It Was Him Pt. 03

Chapter 4

I was sitting in my bed, with my oversized t-shirt, and panties, waiting for him. I looked up when his hand traced the contours of my face. His thumb traced my lips, his presence was intoxicating, invigorating. He pushed his thumb between my lips, I used my tongue to trace the tip of his thumb as if it were the tip of his cock. His other hand grasped my neck, not to the point that I was struggling for breath, but enough to feel the blood constricted to my brain. He used this hand to pull my face toward his. His lips pushed to mine, his tongue delving into my mouth joining my tongue in a dance. I pulled his lower lip into mine and sucked on it. His hand around my neck tightened, ensuring I knew who was dominant. I moaned into his mouth, aching for more.

BBBBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZ

My alarm buzzes incessantly to the point of falling off my nightstand. I scramble to get it. My brain was so foggy, my heart rate elevated, my head still in my dream begging to be his. I got up, showered, threw some things in the toaster and poured my coffee. If I did not screw my head on straight and soon, I would be late to work, and I had never been late, it was a thing.

I ate my toaster pastry on the way, spreading crumbs all over my shirt, and also spilled my coffee on the way to work. I walked in just in time to clock in on time. I brushed past everyone not really noticing WHO everyone actually was. I stashed my bag, and grabbed my apron, favorite pen and order book.

"All aboard!" Emily, my closest friend at word said with a laughing smile.

"All aboard? What does that mean?" I was confused.

"You, you are the conductor of the struggle bus, well, I guess you would be the driver, conductors drive trains, not buses. Do bus drivers say all aboard too?" Emily always talked like her lines were written by Amy Sherman Pallidino.

"Em, I love you to the moon and back, but what the hell are you talking about?" I was getting frustrated both with my lack of ability to get my head on straight, and now Emily speaking in riddles.

She sighed, had a very Mrs. Weasley, exasperated smile on her face, "Babe, your covered in crumbs, you have a coffee stain on your shirt, and..." she narrowed her eyes at me, "on closer investigation, your shirt is inside out, and backwards..." her voice trailed off as her eyes saw my expression. "What is wrong babe? Something is making your face do that!"

She pulled me into the employee bathroom. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, my breath, I could not control my breathing. "Last night..." I began. I couldn't get more out.

"Last night...what? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Hurt yourself? What is it babe? Whose ass do I need to beat?" Em was always so protective of me. One time we were walking at the gym and a guy slapped both of our asses. She turned, gave him the most threatening look, and began to raise her double walled bottle. I grabbed the bottle and her arm and hurried to another section. All this did not stop her from tracking his movement throughout the whole gym. He did not come within 50 yards of us, it was impressive. "Oh my god. Was it Tim?"

How the hell did she always know? I nodded. "He tried, nothing really...well not NOTHING, but nothing major...well.." my voice trailed off. "I am okay, I didn't give in, I think it just scared...I don't know, I can't talk about it now. I just need to get on, and move and do my thing." The more I talked, the more my head screwed on. I peeled my shirt off, inspected the coffee stain. Once I turned my shirt right side in and forward, no one would really notice it, and I brushed the pastry flakes off.

"You are good?" Em asked, holding out the pinky of her right hand. I took it with my pinky and shook.

"I am good...enough. No, screw that, I am great, amazing, fantastic," I said, expressing the confidence that I prayed would come and soon. She smiled and we went back to the floor.

The day went by fast, I put on my best waitress, 'how can I help you' face and kicked some ass. Around the time we have a daily lull, between lunch and dinner, Parker stopped by, talked to one of the kitchen guys and Tim. He popped over to my station before leaving. He put one hand on my mid back, sending that lovely butterfly sensation through my entire abdominal region.

"I took care of the kitchen closer situation, Andy will be closing. He is pretty efficient so I doubt you will have to wait for him. If you need anything, you can always call me, can I have your phone real quick?" he asked then just looked at me, I am sure waiting for my answer. However my brain seemed to have gotten dislodged. Every brain cell was focused on his hand. How would it feel if it wrapped around my body, pulling me closer, or sliding a bit lower, grabbing my ass? "Regan, are you there?" he asked so patiently with a hint of concern.

I blinked, shook my head, "I am so sorry, this morning has been quite the boondoggle. What was the question?" I asked, making it a point to not look into his eyes this time and focus on his words and their meanings.

He repeated himself with an almost smile across his beautiful lips. I unlocked and handed him my phone. He typed away then handed it back to me. "THere, I just put my number in your phone, so if you need anything, you have a direct line to me. Please," he paused and caught my gaze again, "when I say anything, I mean it. One call and I will be right here."

I smiled and nodded, clutching my phone. "Thank you so much Parker, both for this," I held out my phone, "and for last night, you don't know what it meant to me."

He squeezed the hand I was holding my phone with and smiled, "Believe me, it was my pleasure." It was such a simple sentence, yet it set those damn butterflies atwitter.

Chapter 5

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, I closed, Andy closed the kitchen, no one pinned me against a counter or sink threatening to make me his. I was still flying high from the conversation with Parker. His eyes just seemed to stare into my soul in the sweetest, sexiest way. I was so busy thinking about him, his beautiful, dreamy eyes and his soft (I am assuming) lips and his smile that I did not notice someone leaning up against the trunk of my car. I didn't even see him come behind me while I unlocked my door, but then he made his presence unmistakably known.

He pushed his body against mine, wrapped a hand over my mouth, his other hand on my hip squaring my body against my car. "Little one, did you really think that you could escape me by pulling that little stunt? Did you really think that was my ONLY opportunity, that I wouldn't take you wherever, whenever I wanted?" His mouth was right against my ear. My breathing became erratic, I tried screaming but his hand muffled any noise coming out of my mouth.

"Oh little one, you don't need to be scared, I know you crave, what I crave. You crave being my little toy. You need to breathe little one, breathe." His voice was so calm, how could he be so calm? He moved his hand to the front of my pants, unbuttoning my pants. My protests began to drop, I was truly in disbelief, was this really happening? Did I really hate it? There was a growing part of me that liked it, that craved domination.

"I am going to move my hand, you are not going to make a sound," It was not a question, he was telling me. He was having trouble moving my jeans down over my ass with one hand. I stayed quiet, a gesture he took as agreement. This is my opportunity, he tentatively moved his hand, but just slightly, I made not a peep. He chuckled, "Such a good little one," his voice sounding triumphant.

He moved his hand to my hip, continuing his endeavor to pull down my jeans. I used this as my opportunity. I pushed my whole body against his, we both went tumbling, my body falling on his. As soon as we hit the ground I began to scream for help and scramble up as fast as I could. I got about a foot and a half away from him when I felt his hand around my ankle. He could not pull me back, but he used it as an opportunity to pull himself onto me. He managed to make it between my legs, hiding them up on his hips. He leaned down, holding my hands down, his mouth next to my ear again.

"You are one clever little girl, but you need to be a bit quicker. You will be mine whether you like it or not," his voice was venom in my ear. I screamed out again and his hand went to my throat. This was not the kind of grab that just constricted blood flow, he was pressing on my windpipe. "If you do that again, there will be very real consequences." Fear flooded my eyes, and victory flooded his.

He took my shirt that was a polo, gripped it from the top of the shirt and pulled. As if it were made of newspaper, it ripped down the middle. He pulled my breasts from the cups of my bra, and pulled and pinched my nipples. Usually this would have prompted a moan, but I was distracted. I heard the sound of tires on gravel and then the sound of brakes. Luckily for me, Tim was too occupied enjoying his conquest.

The next thing I know Tim was pushed, no, he was thrown off me, thrown to the ground by a large, animalistic force. It took me a quick minute to figure out what caused Tim, a substantial sized person to be thrown to the ground like a pillow off the bed. I sat up, pulled my bra back into place and witnessed the most horrible, amazing, awe-inspiring spectacle I had ever seen. Someone had tackled Tim and was now completely entangled in a wrestling match with him. The man seemed bigger than Tim, taller, maybe a bit rounder and full of rage. Who was he? What if he decided to take me instead and was really just fighting with Tim over who gets to have me and my body instead of fighting Tim over the fact that he was breaking basic moral and ethical values?

Whatever his motivation, it was strong, and seemed to allow him the extra advantage because pretty soon he was kneeling over Tim, saying something I couldn't hear, then stood up. He looked in my direction, I panicked a bit, pulled the two sides of my once whole shirt together in a feeble attempt to cover my body. He started to move towards me. I could not make out any details, but there was something about his walk, the slight sway of his hips. Could it be? I started scooching back, still on the ground, one hang holding my shirt together. I scooted until I was under one of the parking lot lights. It was, it was him.