Love for Leona

All characters are over 18 years.

***

'Mornin' babe,' Mike Follett yawned, placing a hand on her thigh as they lay in bed. The sheets were a crumpled mess, hanging partly off the bed. 'God, it's late,' he said.

On Sunday morning Leona hadn't really looked at Mike Follett as yet. She could feel his length beside her but she hadn't really looked at him. And she couldn't exactly remember what he looked like. His arm was tossed casually over her body and was now like a dead weight.

She sat up in bed. His face was the face of a stranger. She smiled at him through gritted teeth. 'Would you like teas or coffee?' she asked. 'I'm making some toast.'

'Not hungry,' Mike said, sliding out of bed. 'Gotta flight at ten. Gotta get going.'

This time she did look at him because she couldn't help it. She hadn't seen a back that taut or a backside that firm in a long while. She had met Mike the night before at Matilda's bar in Sydney Road. She had been sitting on one of the stools uncrossing her legs and he had been looking to see how high her skirt would ride up.

She had been depressed all that afternoon; loneliness had settled on her like a cold wet day.

His eyes raked her up and down assessing. She smiled when he offered to buy her a drink.

'On holiday?' she asked.

'Yes - until tomorrow.'

He was tall and rugged with pitch black hair and huge brown eyes, a little disconcerting in a man. He wore faded blue jeans and a grey T-shirt.

She could not feel that he was dominating her in any way, because she did everything willingly.

'You'll let me drive you home?' he had asked late that night.

'I don't mind,' - laughing softly. Wild emotions attacked her heart. She was gnawed with restless desire. 'I want to do whatever you want me to do.' He could feel her hot breath on his neck.

It has been a rainy night in mid-November and he had driven her home. She couldn't face being alone that night. And her flesh had been stronger than her will.

Inside her bedroom Mike's mouth was roaming over her face. He was nudging her thighs apart with his knee; she stroking the wide, hard planes of his shoulders, fingers moving slowly over his smooth skin. His mouth forcing her mouth open, tongue sliding between her lips.

She found herself edged ever closer to the abyss.

He had pressed against her and she felt he wanted the aggressive role, which was fine with her. He pushed her back against the bed. Her body shifted beneath his. She arched to meet him.

Now in the early morning following their night together, she looked away as he turned his body towards her, her thoughts directed inwards, thinking there's no meaning in it; he's going back to Adelaide on the ten o'clock plane.

As he pulled on his trousers, she felt more than a touch of sadness; she would never see him again, she was sure. She felt a strong sense of déjà vu; this had happened before to her with other men she had picked up; she was repeating her pattern, she knew.

'Hey, give me a hug,' - not quite begging.

Mike came to her, snaked his hand around her back.

'Don't go breaking any hearts in Adelaide, will you?' she whispered in his ear as his mouth caressed her face.

He resisted the impulse to embrace her again, moving his body away from her.

'Well, I guess I should go,' - after a pause.

'You'll call me once you reach Adelaide, okay. She smiled but her voice was fractured.

'Yeah,' he replied. 'You know, it was a fun night. Wish we lived in the same city.'

She shrugged. But his words stuck like a knife. She'd heard that line before.

He made his way to the door, blew her a kiss. Outside the rain was beating down and a wind had sprung up.

She went into the kitchen, grabbed a can of beer, and poured herself a glass.

She'd done it again, she thought. She hadn't planned it that way, but she had repeated her pattern, just as her therapist said. Was she becoming a cut-price call girl? She steadied herself, trying not to fall apart.

She sighed, fighting the tears. Mike Follett was just another womanizer, probably married, and had used her for the night. Well, never again, she promised herself savagely.

She shuddered, recalling the pact she had made with herself, to refrain from picking men for one night stands. I can't believe this is happening to me, she thought bitterly.

She had to get her life back into her own control.

She realized she was fighting against it - fighting against something that was fast becoming stronger than herself.

I'm not going to be the passive victim of my emotions any longer, she said to herself. She remade her decision, and this time, she swore, nothing ... nothing was going to shift her from it.

She was alone, she knew, alone in a far more desperate way than she had ever known before. Perhaps it's better this way, she thought. Alone, not depending on anyone. Nobody to hurt. Nobody to hurt me. She was almost at the end of her tether, she knew.

Leona drained the last of her beer, recalling the feel of Mike's skin, the firm thrust of his body into hers.