Can I Love Ch 07

I sat up, leaving his side immediately, my hands coming up to cover my breasts. "What do you mean, 'tell me why you're here'?"

He sat up too, bringing his hand up to touch my face. I moved away repeating my question.

"I'm really sorry. Things were never meant to happen this way. It was never supposed to be like this."

"What wasn't supposed to be like this? Tom, look at me. What has happened? How come you are talking like this?" I was beginning to panic.

"If I told you, you would hate me. If I didn't, you would hate me. Things weren't supposed to happen this way..." He spoke softly, almost inaudible. His eyes unfocused, staring through me.

"Tom talk to me, tell me what's going on."

"If I tell you, promise not to hate me." I looked at him, watching his eyes, seeing the pain in them.

"I can't promise anything I'm afraid, let's just hope it's not that bad." I giggled slightly, hoping to lighten the tone.

He looked directly into my eyes. I could see the base of each eye covered with a silky form of liquid. He moved his hand to my face, touching it lightly, before moving it back into his lap, his eyes staring down before talking again, "I only wanted to see my brother grow up."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. "What do you mean? What do you mean your ... your brother?" I stood up quickly, pulling my gown off the bed stand before moving into the lounge, a thousand thoughts filling my mind.

I was angry. I had just done almost everything with this man, he hadn't come for me. He wanted to know my child. The child I lost. Then suddenly it hit me, the only way my child could be his brother was if he was the child of the man that raped me.

A rage brewed inside me and I stormed back into the bedroom where Tom was desperately trying to get his boxers back on. "Get out," I screamed, "Get out, Get out, GET OUT!!!" I pushed him towards the bedroom door, picking up his jeans and chucking them at him.

"Get ... The ... Fuck out of my fucking house!" I emphasised each swear word as it was unusual for me.

"Hey babe, let me explain, please don't do this to me. We had fun right?" He asked, his words making me even madder.

"Fun, you call this fun? You stalk me, seduce me and then dump this shit on my back. I'll give you fun." I pushed him again at the door, more force behind it this time. He held onto me, balancing himself, I mistook this for an attempt to try to speak to me. I slapped him. Hard.

His eyes fixed on mine, staring down at me, before turning on his heel and leaving. "It wasn't my fault I fell in love with you." He said as he left, slamming the bedroom door, then the front door behind him. His words of love flew past me. I was angry.

I stayed in my room, feeling the emotions rolling through me. I sat on the bed and cried. I knew it was too good to be true, why would someone like me, just because they liked me? Everything had complications. I was just glad that I hadn't slept with him. The thought that Tom and his father, who had raped me, both having there way with me, it was just too awful to think about.

I cried and I cried. I felt the tears welling up inside long before they dribbled down my cheeks. Every part of my body was up for crying, my shoulders heaved; my head felt heavy; my eyes were sore. Everything felt sad, lonely and hurt.

Now the rape had been brought back up, I tried to remember. I wanted to remember everything. Tom had come along, telling me it was his Dad that did it, now I could hand him over, tell the police. I could get him screwed over the same way he screwed me.

I thought back to that night, leaving the car and then that man, Toms Dad. Thinking about it, I could remember his age more, in my original statements I had said between 30 – 40, now I could see him more late 40's.

His hair had thinned, leaving it a light brown, and his eyes, the same eyes as a pair I had so accustomed with, but his touch, it was not the same. His touch was different to Toms. This man had been rough and aggressive, desperate to pleasure himself despite my actions to fight him off. Yet Toms had been so warm, gentle and caring.

My sleep that night was horrible, I dreamed of Tom's Dad coming to get me. I dreamt that he had tried to make that rape. Tom had held me, protecting me. He would kiss me, placing his hands on me, pleasuring me. When I would look up at him, he would be his Dad, evil and staring. His warm touch would turn cold. Then I would feel Tom on me, helping his father grab my body. I woke up covered in a sweat, afraid.

That morning I tried to call the police, ready to convict Tom's Dad. But when I picked up the phone, I couldn't go through with it. Something inside of me was stopping me from going through with it. My feelings for Tom wouldn't let me go through with it.

As I placed the phone down, it rang instantly. Answering I heard a male voice pleading with me. Hanging up, I turned and took my phone off the hook, not wanting to be disturbed by anyone. I wanted time to myself. Time to do my own thing, live life the way I should. At 20, I was way too young to be tied down.

He turned up on my door a few times, flowers in hand, 'sorry' plastered on his face. Nothing could let me forgive him. I carried on with my life, ignoring the calls, forgetting about Tom and his Dad. I couldn't ring the police. All I could do was move on and forget.

Moving on was easy. I got back into work, a nurse at the local vet, keeping in touch with my friends, forgetting everything that happened. Almost.

There had been no word from Tom for over a month. No phone calls, no surprise visits, nothing. Forgetting was going to be simple. Forgetting would have been simple, if I hadn't seen him.

Walking home one evening after work I spotted him, he looked gorgeous. The whites of his eyes and teeth glowing in the dimming light. I stood for a moment, watching him standing there. His posture stood upright. I could see a few worry lines on his forehead as he squinted, searching around him. Then he saw me.

Our eyes locked, neither one looking away. I held his stare for what seemed like an eternity. I noticed him moving, lifting himself, walking towards me. Suddenly I dropped the gaze, walking away in the opposite direction hearing my name whistling in the wind.

I walked away fast, my heart thudding in my chest. The feelings stirring inside of me, the attraction being brought back up, it was still there between us. That feeling inside of me, the longing, the searching, it was still there.

Reaching my apartment, I entered slowly still feeling his stare still with me. Entering, I had visions of the two of us running around the room, playing tag, tickling each other, the fun I had with him. I sat down, remembering our talks on the sofa, how nice he had been.

Moving into the bedroom, I was startled by what I saw. There was a woman led on her back, a figure leant between her legs. I could see as his tongue moved up and down her wet slit, licking up and around her precious jewel, her body writhing with ecstasy. I saw a finger wriggle up, pressing at her love hole before slowly penetrating, moving it in and out as he continued to lick her clit. I could feel her orgasm, could see it brewing through her.

When her orgasm subsided, she moved her head looking down at the man between her legs, that's when I noticed who it was. It was me. I could see the flush running up my neck, my breasts wobbling from the activity. I watched as the person between her legs stood up, stripping himself of his jeans, flaunting his pride and joy, ready to penetrate her.

I remembered this situation. It was Tom. I watched as I leant forward to take him in my mouth. I closed my eyes, reliving the situation, remembering the feel of his cock in my mouth, remembering his spunk as it shot down my throat, load after load.

When I opened my eyes the images were gone. My bed was still made, not a crease on the cover. Although the images were gone, the wetness between my legs had not. The images of what we had done, watching myself from the outside, had made me incredibly hot. I have no idea how the images were so clear, watching, seeing every movement made. There was no blurriness.

I was clear on what I had seen. I was clear on what I felt. I was clear on what I wanted.

I sat upright. Could it have been a dream? What I had just seen was clear in my mind. I could still smell the musky scent of my bedroom, yet I hadn't moved anywhere since coming into the apartment. It meant nothing, it was just a dream I told myself over and over, still trying to ignore the damp feeling between my legs.

As I rose I heard a slight knock on the door. I went to the door, pulling it open. Tom stood there, his hands shaking, holding a letter.

"Hi," he spoke softly. "You don't have to say anything to me, I understand that you're mad, just please, please read this. You may think I'm still a jerk, but after reading my side of the story, you may feel differently. I'm sorry how things happened the other day. It wasn't supposed to happen like that. If you want to talk to me, I will be at the same place I was today, every night. Please just give me a chance."

With that he pushed the envelope into my hands, kissing me lightly on the cheek, before walking briskly away from the room. I looked down at the envelope in my hands reading the front, 'whatever happens, don't forget, I love you.'

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