The Mistress Mistake (10 page)

As far as being abandoned in a place for a
few months, the place had just about everything a person could
want. In addition to the pool and spa area, it had an on-site gym,
a car wash, and a clubhouse that contained a flat-screen
television, a pool table, and a shelf filled with DVDs, magazines
and paperback books.

She'd popped her head in the clubhouse three
or four times now and each time, she'd found it empty. She didn't
have a television in her apartment, so having access to one here
was convenient if she ever wanted to watch anything. But right now,
she chose a couple of books and a magazine and strolled back out to
the swimming pool area. It was completely deserted also, so she
chose the lounger that was closest to the courtyard of her
apartment, and she settled down into it.

She'd been out there tanning and reading for
maybe an hour when two guys walked down a flight of stairs opposite
to where her apartment was located. She was surprised to realize
she recognized one of them. She didn't know him, had never spoken
to him, but she had seen him around campus several times. Why
hadn't it occurred to her that the apartment building would house
students, since it was located this close to campus?

The guy she had never seen before dove into
the deep end, and the other one spoke to her. "Hey."

"Hey," she returned.

"I didn't know you lived here," he said as he
dropped a towel and a bottle of sunscreen on the table a few feet
away from her.

"I just moved in. I've been living on campus
for two years."

He grinned. "Ah, freedom. You're going to
like this much better."

"You think?"

"Sure. The place is crawling with
upperclassmen. Parties all the time. No worries about alcohol and
getting busted by the campus police."

"Sounds fun."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Jessica."

"I'm Eric. You're Geology, right?"

She was surprised he knew that. "Yeah.
You?"

"Pre-med, baby," he returned cockily.

"Impressive."

He laughed. "I try to be." He continued to
look her over and his brows drew into a frown that she couldn't
interpret. He didn't seem angry, just contemplative. "You live
alone?"

"Yes," she answered slowly.

"Just a one-bedroom?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Ever thought about a roommate?"

Okay. That question took her totally by
surprise. "No, truthfully, I haven't thought about it one way or
the other."

"I might know of someone needing to
share."

"Who?"

"My cousin, Lydia. She's been accepted and is
enrolled for the fall, but she's on a wait list for the dorms."

Jessica began thinking of rent split in half.
"She's an incoming freshman?"

"Yeah."

"She's not on scholarship?" All the students
on academic scholarship were at the top of the list for
housing.

"Nah. She missed it by a good half mile.
She's pretty smart, though. A serious student. She wouldn't cause
you any heartache."

"I'm not sure about a roommate, I haven't
given it much thought. But I'll keep it in mind."

"Can I get your number, in case?"

"Sure." He pulled out his phone and she
rattled off her number. He keyed it in, and almost immediately her
phone made the pinging sound indicating that she had a text
message.

"Now you have mine, as well."

"Thanks." She smiled and returned her eyes to
her book as he began peeling his shirt off. A few seconds later,
she felt a shadow come over her. She glanced up, and he hung over
her, extending the bottle of sunscreen towards her. "You're burning
already."

"Thanks." She took it and squeezed out a nice
sized dollop as he stood and waited.

She began rubbing it on her arms. "You need
help?"

She laughed nervously. He was looking at her
as if he wouldn't at all mind helping her, and she knew she didn't
have the luxury of being able to start something up with him. She
couldn't even encourage him. "No thanks, I've got it."

He took the tube back from her. "Which unit
is yours?"

She pointed at her gated courtyard that was
enclosed with a black-wrought iron fence just as all the other
lower units were. "You've got a ground floor? Lucky you."

"Yeah."

"Give me a shout if you need anymore
sunscreen, pretty."

Startled at the casual endearment, she
glanced up at him and found his eyes hot on hers.

She managed to give him a smile of both
thanks and dismissal, and he turned and dove into the pool.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Any
other time in her life, she could have smiled back at him and
flirted just like any other college student. But suddenly and
decisively, she wasn't just another college student.

Nope, she was a young woman who belonged
sexually
to another man, and a man who she suddenly
realized, would flip a switch if he even knew about the simple
conversation she had just had.

****

That night it was tacos; she could smell them
from the bedroom when Connor walked in. Jessica was still upset
from his disparaging question from the night before, and she'd
decided that the best way to handle him was to get rid of him as
quickly as possible.

She'd long since washed the new set of sheets
and put them on the bed, and when Connor came in that evening, she
was already in the bed, naked from the waist down as seemed to be
his preference, but completely covered with the top sheet.

In her hand was the paperback book she was
almost finished reading.

As he walked into the bedroom, she schooled
her expression to keep all emotion from her features. He stood
still and alert in the bedroom doorway and watched her quizzically,
and Jessica knew he was puzzled because she was acting out of the
ordinary. She'd never before made a move toward the bed until he
motioned for her to get there.

As usual for him, he said not a word and so
as casually as possible, she set the book down on the bedside table
and turned over on her stomach and waited, while she clutched the
pillow under her head.

He made no move for long moments, and then
when he did, he was very slow and leisurely as he undressed. She
could feel his eyes on her the entire time, her heart beating
loudly in her eardrums. It was around seven in the evening, his
usual time, and night had yet to begin falling. When he moved
behind her and pushed the sheet down to the foot of the bed, she
felt the slight chill on her naked buttocks at the same time she
heard him suck in his breath. "What the hell did you do?"

Unnerved by both the question and his tone,
she lifted herself onto her elbows and looked behind her. "What do
you mean?"

He was staring at her ass and legs, and
although she'd known she'd gotten a lot of sun, she hadn't realized
it was quite that much. She had always tanned fairly easily, and
the slight pinkness of her skin didn't hurt, at least not yet. At
his continued silence, she answered his question. "I sat out by the
pool today and read a book. I guess I got too much sun."

He pulled his eyes from her butt and they
landed on her face. "You think,
maybe?"

She shrugged her shoulders. His brow was
pulled into a hardened line, and as he continued to look at her
lower half, his mouth flattened into a line of disapproval. As
quickly as a snake striking, he flipped her to her back and pulled
off the t-shirt that covered her torso. She had nothing on
underneath it, and now she leaned back on her elbows in a
semi-reclining position, breathing hard, panicked at the ferocious
look on his face as he held her shirt in his fist and inspected her
brand new tan lines.

"This?" He motioned to the faint outline of
her bikini with his hand. "This is the kind of swimsuit you were
wearing out by the pool?"

For the space of a few seconds, she'd thought
he was angry because she'd gotten too pink, that maybe, just maybe,
he was concerned about her. But no, that wasn't it at all. He was
pissed because she'd had on, by his estimation, too little
clothing.

In a move just as swift as the one he'd used
on her, she pulled her bunched up t-shirt from his hand and wiggled
out from underneath him, taking him by surprise, and landed on her
feet by the side of the bed.

For some insane reason, she needed to get the
shirt over her head. As she struggled into it, she knew the reason
why. She felt completely and utterly naked without her shirt on,
which she was, but the feeling wasn't a physical nakedness; it was
an emotional one. She was emotionally naked without the shirt. He'd
used her lower half so frequently and ruthlessly, that she was
becoming immune to it. But not her breasts. Her breasts and
shoulders were still hers, he'd yet to touch them, not even on that
first night, and she wanted them covered up from him,
like right
now.

With the t-shirt firmly in place, she crossed
her arms over her chest and stood against the far wall of the room,
delayed shock running like cold water through her veins. He knelt
on the bed, completely naked, his perfect biceps bulging and his
erection jutting out from his body in a testament to both his need
and his supreme manhood.

The sight of his perfect body, poised in
ultimate arrogance and the very epitome of dominant male, pissed
her off. "It's called a two-piece. And since when is it any of your
business what the hell type of bathing suit I choose to wear?"

"You've just got to be fucking kidding me,
right?" He slid off the bed and began advancing on her. "I own your
little body, and you need to start understanding that and then you
need to fucking remember it,"
he roared.

She sidestepped him with a darting move under
his arm he wasn't expecting and ran around to the other side of the
bed, feeling more comfortable with a large piece of furniture
between them. "Bullshit. You have no right to tell me what kind of
swimsuit to wear."

Stopping suddenly, he leaned against the
wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a move designed
to appear to be lazy, unconcerned, but Jessica wasn't fooled in the
least. She knew that behind his cool facade he was ferociously
angry. And with his biceps in bold prominence, his erection pushing
up into the air looking angry and threatening, she began to
hyperventilate. His eyes ran down her length, and lowered to the
vee between her legs that was on full display in her short t-shirt,
and stared steadily at it. Slowly, she slid one hand down and
covered herself there.

He shifted his gaze to hers, raised one
eyebrow and began shaking his head. A slither of trepidation
settled in her belly. She hated when he did that! She hated when he
shook his head, tilted his head, and gave her non-verbal commands
that she was supposed to jump at. She ignored the silent demand and
continued to cover herself as she stood completely still.

"Get on the bed," he snapped.

She hesitated, and his expression became
menacing.

"Are you refusing me, Jessica?"

Apprehension shooting through her, she shook
her head jerkily, and keeping him in her line of sight, she put one
knee on the bed and began to climb on.

"Take the shirt off."

Panicked at the new demand, she froze and
turned fully to look at him. He was moving toward her, climbing on
the bed behind her so she ignored his last command and flipped to
her stomach, in the position she thought he wanted her in.

He came behind her.
"I told you to take
off the shirt."

She closed her eyes, relieved he couldn't see
her do it, and began to shake her head frantically.

"Why?" he asked calmly, almost too
calmly.

"You can't have my breasts." The low answer
slipped from her trembling lips.

"What the fuck?" Anger, swift and strong,
bled from his tone.

"No!
You promised you wouldn't make me
do anything that I don't want to do, and I don't want to take off
my shirt." She kept her eyes shut and her face down.

He growled deep from his throat, his hands
landed on her hips and he flipped her to her back before she even
had a moment to react. Her eyes flew open in panic when she found
him between her spread thighs, the head of his erection already
touching her unprotected opening. "I want you to take off the
fucking shirt."

"No!"

"Are you refusing to have sex with me?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, but to
her horror, she felt a tear slide from the corner of her eye and
drip down into her hairline.

With a low growl, he picked up her thighs and
wrapped them around his hips, and then sank his hand into her
scalp. He lifted her head a few inches from the pillow and shocking
her silly, he dropped his mouth to hers. The pressure of his mouth
on hers forced her lips open and his tongue plunged deeply into the
recesses of her mouth.

It was the first time he'd kissed her since
the very first night when he'd taken her virginity, and there
wasn't anything she could do to stop him.

He groaned deeply, and at the sound she
stiffened in his arms, expecting to experience the stab of his
penis at any moment. She tried to breathe through the punishing
kiss, she tried to loosen her muscles to prevent impending pain,
but it was useless as her nerves were stretched too tight and all
she could do was hang on to her sanity while she waited for the
storm she knew was coming.

But it never came.

As the seconds ticked by, she slowly came to
realize that she was crying beneath his kiss. She felt the dampness
of her tears, heard the ragged sounds of her whimpering and the
harsh panting of his breath coming roughly from in and out of his
lungs.

She still felt the immediate threat, the
strength of his erection at her opening, and knew she wasn't safe
yet. She tried to get her tears under control as she managed to
somehow breathe, even though his mouth still hovered over hers. It
wasn't so much a kiss anymore, as simply a connection he wasn't
allowing her to break.