The Mistress Mistake (9 page)

She'd made up her mind to try to survive on
the least amount of money possible, so she could save every penny
of excess money he gave her for school and the future. She never
wanted to have to do anything like this again in her life. So last
night, she'd frozen most of the pizza right away so it wouldn't
ruin. She planned to do the same with any other food he might
bring. She could survive on very little, and with the food he'd
supplied so far and the supplies he'd just put away, she could last
for a while without having to go shopping. Going shopping for just
one or two things always led to buying more, because without a
vehicle, she was always concerned about when she could get to the
store again. And then, before she knew it, all her savings would be
gone. So she really wanted to stay out of all stores for as long as
she possibly could.

He finished in the bathroom and moved back
into the bedroom and pulled out an oversized box of condoms that he
dropped on the bedside table. Her stomach tightened with nerves.
The last thing in the sack looked like a tube of lubricant, and as
he put that next to the condoms before tossing the empty sack in
the corner of the room, she acknowledged the distress coiling in
her stomach.

The third and final sack contained a set of
sheets in a solid tan color. He made no move to take them out of
the packaging; he just tossed them in the corner as well.

Turning to face her, he slowly and
methodically began unbuttoning his shirt while his eyes landed on
her and locked her within his stare. Her heartbeat increased, a
sliver of both fear and arousal slid down and landed in a heated
pool between her legs.

He tossed his shirt away and motioned with a
tilt of his head toward the bed, exactly as he had the night
before. On legs that felt like jelly, she crawled up to sit on the
middle of the mattress. Exactly as the night before, she found her
arms wrapping around her knees in self-protection.

"Take your shorts and underwear off." His
shoes and socks were off now as well as his shirt, and he turned to
the nightstand again and began unwrapping the supplies he'd placed
there only moments before. She took off the clothes that left her
lower body bare, and pulled the pillow in front of her and clutched
it to her front, hiding herself from him.

He unsnapped his fly and as he put a single
condom within reaching distance, he began to slide his jeans from
his hips. He glanced over at her sitting in the middle of the bed,
and with one finger made a twirling motion that told her
unequivocally that he wanted her to roll over on her stomach
again.

She shut her eyes tightly, closing them
against him and everything they were doing as she uncurled her legs
and rolled to her stomach.

"Don't do that," he hissed, as she felt his
weight on the bed. "Don't act all hurt and pouty like this is my
goddamned fault." She felt his arm wrap around underneath her
belly, and once again, he lifted her onto her knees and spread her
legs until he was between them. She heard a tube pop open, and she
felt a sudden cold chill between her thighs as he spread the
lubricant on her.

Within moments, he was pushing inside her
from behind. Her muscles tensed up, but there was no pain. Only a
slow, unrelenting pressure, but no pain. The lubricant was doing
its job.

"Am I hurting you?"

Jessica knew all at once that if she answered
him, he'd be able to tell she was crying again. She hadn't even
realized it herself until she was faced with having to speak.

He pulled back out and took another smooth
stroke. "Answer me."

She shook her head and managed, "No."

No more words were spoken between them. He
continued to pound into her, taking even, forceful strokes that
decimated her completely and held her pinned to the bed. From far,
far away, down in the furthest recesses of her body, a tiny heat
began to glow that under any other circumstances she might have
allowed to break free. But not now, and not like this. He'd bought
her body, but he couldn't buy her response. Not that he seemed to
want it. And it was too late anyway.

He growled low in his throat as if he were a
rabid animal attacking, and he pummeled her body as if he were out
of control until he jerked against her, his fingers sinking into
the flesh of her hips and holding himself locked tightly within
her.

She let out a relieved breath, and took some
more sustaining oxygen into her lungs. He pulled out immediately
and vacated the bed, closeting himself in the bathroom, where she
heard the shower begin to run.

She scrambled off the bed, put her clothes
back on, and left the bedroom altogether. She didn't really know
what he was going to expect when he finished his shower. He'd been
here only twenty minutes so far, but she was hungry and glad of it.
She needed to reconcile herself to the way her life was now, and
she needed to be able to eat and hold down food.

As she heard the water turn off and him
moving around the bedroom, she opened the containers he'd put on
the table and began displaying the food, preparing to serve it.

He walked into the small living room, dining
room combination and saw what she was doing. His eyes narrowed, and
he looked up from the table and into her eyes. "Are you all
right?"

Her muscles tensed but she managed to answer
him. "Yes."

Giving her a short nod, he walked to the
door. "Tomorrow."

And he was gone.

Jessica stared at the door and her appetite
fled just as quickly as it had come. All at once, her eyes filled
with tears and she fell into a dinette chair. It hit her what she'd
just done, two nights in a row and anguish consumed her.
She was
going to get a grip. She really was.
But for right now, she put
her head in her hands and cried.

****

Connor stood outside the apartment door and
leaned against the wall as he listened to the muffled sounds of
Jessica's tears. A hard shaft of guilt pierced him, and the
knowledge that she was crying because of him, because of what they
were doing together unbalanced him.

For a moment, he wanted to go back in there
and hold her. But he couldn't; they didn't have that sort of
relationship.
He didn't want that sort of relationship.

But he didn't care for the sound of her
tears, not a damn bit. When he'd put the lubricant on her his only
thought had been to ease her pain, to get his rocks off as quickly
as he could, to make it easier on her.

And maybe it had helped with the physical
side of things. But not the emotional, that was for sure. Hearing
her tears, feeling the trembling of her body, only underlined her
wholesome purity to him. She was sweetness personified, and if he
wasn't careful, things were going to move in a direction that he
hadn't planned for, and bite him in the ass. Getting too close to
her would have repercussions he didn't want. He absolutely couldn't
let her softness tantalize him. If that happened, the need he
already felt for her would turn into a craving he couldn't
control.

And he couldn't let that happen.

But he didn't care for her tears.
No, not
a damn bit.

After seven more evenings of the exact same
thing, Jessica knew Connor had established a pattern in their
'relationship.' He brought food every night, enough to feed two
people, but he never ate with her. He never stayed for longer than
half an hour, and he put her in the same position, face down, every
time.

He never kissed her, or touched her breasts;
he never requested she be completely nude. He never again tried to
arouse her as he had that first night. He continued to use the
lubricant on her.

It was a clinical fucking exactly as he'd
spelled it out to her in the beginning. She was the vessel he had
described, the female body he used to relieve his sexual needs.

Without consciously realizing it, she began
to think of her lower torso and limbs as belonging to him, but
everything above her waist as still being hers and safe from his
touch.

And she supposed, if Connor wasn't the way he
was, it could have been much, much worse. Although not gentle, he
wasn't rough. He always started out slowly, and she knew he did it
so he wouldn't hurt her. At least she had that much to be thankful
for. She knew he really didn't want to hurt her. He hadn't demanded
anything of her, and if she could ever reconcile herself to what
they were doing together, maybe her conscience would let up a
bit.

Every night before he left, he asked her if
she was all right. His eyes would search hers, and she knew that he
was truly concerned. Maybe it was because he didn't want to lose
his convenient piece of ass, but that wasn't
all
it was. He
never expected anything from her, and she knew that he could easily
get for free what he was paying her a small fortune for.

She hadn't had to learn any sexual moves; she
hadn't had to do anything but open her legs for him. To put it
bluntly, she was just a vagina to him. If she let herself think
about what she was doing, she'd throw-up. So she tried her best not
to think of it.

But, she decided what she was doing with him
wasn't prostitution. What she was, even though they'd never
discussed it, was his mistress. There was just no other correct
terminology that she could come up with. He paid for her apartment;
he paid all of her expenses. In return, she accommodated him
sexually.

Well, that was better than prostitution,
right?

It definitely was a lot safer, and a whole
lot cleaner. Even if it still made her want to vomit.

****

On the tenth night of their 'arrangement', as
she opened the containers of food and waited for him to walk from
the bedroom and leave, Jessica realized that her brain and body
were becoming desensitized to what she and Connor were doing.

He never hurt her, it was always the same,
and her fear, at least, had completely receded. She always knew
what to expect from him.

Until he shot that theory to hell by asking
her something extraordinary. As he stood by the front door
preparing to leave, he put his hand on the doorknob but didn't open
the door. He turned to her, and ran his eyes up and down her
length, just as he'd done many, many times. But then he opened his
mouth and asked her something that was way, way beyond ordinary.
"Didn't it occur to you that with your looks you could have sold
your virginity for so much goddamned money that you'd never have to
work again?"

Jessica's heart lurched in pain and she
dropped the serving spoon in her hand. It clattered to the table
and her eyes shot to his before cutting away again.
That's what
he thought of her? That's the kind of thing he thought she was
capable of? And he thought she was looking for the easy way out,
never to have to work? Jesus Christ, sell her virginity? It was
sick. Of course, she'd never thought of it.

He stood waiting for an answer, and she knew
it wasn't part of their deal that she become angry at him. But
that's exactly what she did. And maybe anger was an easier emotion,
she'd much rather him know she was angry than hurt. Clearly her
mistress theory was
so
wrong, because she was absolutely
nothing but a prostitute in his mind. "No," she answered him softly
as she picked the spoon up again and forced a steel rod down her
spine.

"But you would have done it, right? If you'd
thought of it?"

She struggled to come up with a suitable
answer. She wanted to be capable of throwing out the truth, which
was a denial, or even a lie and tell him,
'sure'.

But she couldn't do either. She set the spoon
back down and began closing the containers as her appetite fled.
"Can you please go now?"

His jaw clenched and his gaze became pointed.
"You're telling me to leave?"

Her body temperature escalated. "If you don't
mind."

"I do mind."

"You've never minded before."

"I do what I want to do, Jessica.
Always."

"So it seems." She held herself perfectly
still as she attempted to keep all emotion from her tone, wanting
only to see how this would play out and then wanting it all to
disappear. She had no idea why the obscene idea had occurred to him
now, but she really just wanted to be left alone to lick her
wounds. It occurred to her in a flash that if she raised her voice
or demanded he leave again, that he'd do just the opposite. She
waited for what seemed an eternity but was probably only mere
seconds, and at his silence she couldn't stand it anymore and gave
him an answer. She kept her voice soft and non-combative and got it
over with. "I never thought of it. And if I had, I wouldn't have
done it. At least not for gain." She let out a dispirited laugh.
"But then again, I guess we know now that sometimes people are
forced to do things they'd never have ever considered only mere
days or weeks before. Life happens, not always the way we imagine
it, doesn't it?"

He peered at her intently, and just as if the
strange, hurtful, confusing conversation had never taken place, he
nodded his head thoughtfully and said, "Tomorrow."

And she was able to start breathing again as
he walked out the door.

****

The next day Jessica woke up and decided that
she'd spend the day differently than she had the previous ones. The
only thing she'd done other than organize and clean was to take a
few walks outside around the common grounds of the apartment
complex. She was going stir-crazy, and if she hadn't known for sure
that Connor would go ape-shit crazy, pitch a fit and end their
deal, she might have taken Anthony up on his offer and called him
to come get her so they could do something.

The day was sunny and warm, and after eating
leftovers for breakfast, she put on her bathing suit underneath her
shorts and t-shirt and went exploring.