See Through Me

Notes from the author:

Thanks to everyone for their ongoing support. It has been a struggle with transitions in the story (I never realized how hard it was till now), but I finally completed the most critical transition. The "good stuff" is very shortly to follow. It's a longer chapter than those prior, thankfully. I worked hard to make it so, being that I am such an impatient woman. I am eager for the next chapter, and if you choose to stick with me, I will make it worth your while! Do enjoy. ;)

*****

I had managed to walk away without breaking down in hysterics. Did he honestly expect me to go to him willingly?

This guy had to be nuts. No normal person would inflict such pain and emotional terror on someone else, and expect them to react positively. Then again, no normal girl would have experienced such intense pleasure as a result.

Were Joe and I so different? Had he recognized the desires deep within me...seen through me...as I had always feared? Or was he just an arrogant asshole who took whatever he wanted, whenever, and from whomever he wanted? I was inclined to believe the latter. The fact that I had taken pleasure from his...actions...was inconsequential.

Joe was a domineering prick, and I would not bend to him so easily. I couldn't. I wasn't a whore.

"Kate?"

Ugh. I was beginning to loathe the sound of my own name.

"Katie! Oh my God, is that you?"

It was Michael, thank God.

I turned toward him with a weak smile, and was confused by what I saw. He had a look I had never seen on his face before. A look that bordered on...lust?

"Wow Kate! When I suggested you get out and rock your sexy body, I didn't expect you to actually do it. You look like Marilyn Monroe!"

Ah. I had forgotten about my bombshell ensemble. Doing my best to conceal the lingering shock from my encounter with Joe, I struck a subtle pose and smiled.

"Thanks Michael! I was almost too chicken to go out in this getup. It's totally outside the norm for me, obviously. But I think I may have pulled it off!" I said, turning from side to side.

"Well I'm sure a lot of guys on this ship will soon be pulling it off, thanks to you!" Michael teased.

"Umm, ewww?" I replied, rolling my eyes.

"What, ewww? You look hot!" Michael insisted.

"So what have you been up to?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, I checked out the karaoke bar, and the sushi bar, and the taco bar. A bit burnt out on bars, I have to say. Glad I ran into you, cuz I'm starting to get seriously bored. I can't wait till we reach port tomorrow and I can finally see some sights! Much as I love the buffets, I gotta have something to do between courses," he said, chuckling.

"I know. I'm getting a little sick of being stuck on this ship myself," I replied truthfully.

"Totally. So, my little shiksa hottie, have you gotten anything in that tiny belly of yours yet?" Michael joked.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I have not had lunch yet. Is the lunch buffet still open?" I asked. I wasn't that hungry, but I knew I should get something in my stomach.

"Yep. I was over there earlier. They have a great pizza and pasta station!"

"That sounds good. Will you join me?" I asked hopefully.

"Well, I've been a bad boy already today, but I did have my eye on that sundae bar. You just gave me an excuse!" Michael winked.

"Sorry about that!" I laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Let's go sexy!" Michael linked arms with me, and we walked to the Lido deck, where the ship featured its enormous award-winning (per Michael) buffet. It was impressive, I had to admit.

"Wow," I said, as Michael tugged me over to the buffet line.

"So over here are your salads and soups, over there are your carbs, and at the end are the proteins. The dessert buffet is over there in the corner," Michael said, matter-of-factly.

"Cool," I said, a bit overwhelmed.

"Get yourself some grub, and I'll meet you on the balcony," Michael pointed to a cluster of tables on the starboard side of the ship.

With that, he marched off towards the sundae bar. I felt like I had just been given orders by a superior officer. I giggled at his sudden display of dominance, and got to work.

I hardly knew where to begin, but I figured something light would be best. I built a salad with mixed greens, diced grilled chicken, strawberries with poppy seed dressing, and after much debate, went for a helping of the Penne Primavera. Everything was so appetizing, I actually I felt my tummy rumble. Thank God.

Topping off my tray with a glass of strawberry lemonade, I went to go find Michael.

He was well into an impressively artistic sundae, and I couldn't help but smile.

"That's a very creative sundae you've made, Michael," I teased.

"And that's a very dainty plate you've made Katie," he jabbed playfully.

"Eat missy. I don't got all day."

"Oh, do you have a pressing engagement?" I teased, through a mouthful of salad.

"Actually no. Not a damned thing," he whined. "I've been trying to figure out what the hell to do. Hhhmmm."

He frowned in thought.

"Ooooh, you know what would be awesome?" Michael gushed, suddenly excited. "A massage! And my feet are looking a bit pathetic in these sandals. I could definitely use a pedicure. You up for a trip to the spa after this?" he asked.

"I noticed that there was a spa onboard, but aren't they kinda expensive?"

"Oh don't worry, I'll buy," Michael replied, leaving no room for argument.

Michael was in the marketing department and definitely did better than I when it came to salary.

"That's sweet Michael, thank you!"

"No problem babes," he winked. Leaning back in his seat to stretch, he half asked, half yawned, "So, did your little debut on the sun deck today lead to any dinner invitations?"

I blushed, and looked away shyly. "Yes, actually," I admitted.

"Oooh, It wasn't your mystery neighbor was it?" Michael asked, leaning forward excitedly.

I looked downwards again, and replied, "No, not my mystery neighbor. His name is Scott. We met last night in the bar, before the banquet. He's really cute," I babbled, trying to get off the topic of my mystery neighbor as quickly as possible.

"That's fabulous! What time are you meeting him?" Michael pressed.

"Eight o'clock, at that steakhouse, La Rouge."

Michael whistled low. "Nice. You wanna talk expensive? I hope he's buying."

"I'm sure he is," I replied. At least I hoped so.

"Well, we should head over to the spa then, and get you all prettied up for your date. We can do a mani-pedi, and take a rain check on the massage, kay?"

I smiled. "Okay, that sounds good."

"And, ahem, speaking of rain checks..." Michael whispered, leaning in, "If for some crazy reason you don't make it to our breakfast date tomorrow, I will understand." He wiggled his eyebrows again, and I laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"I don't think it will come to that, but thank you. We'll see."

"Mmmhhhhmmmm," Michael smirked. "Come on sexy, let's get this show on the road."

---

I had to admit, the ladies at the spa had done a terrific job on my nails. There is something about having your nails done professionally that gives you an extra feeling of class. Perhaps it is knowing that every inch of you has been tended to, that you have literally been waited on, hand and foot. Like royalty.

Even though Scott was probably not my prince charming, I felt compelled to look good for him. He had treated me with respect, but also made clear that he found me attractive and desirable. Not to mention he was pretty desirable himself, with those shoulders, and those abs. I would have happily rubbed sunscreen all over him today, if I weren't such a prude.

On my way back to the suite, I stopped at the gift shop to have another look at their scarves. Thanks to...him...I only had one nice dress left to wear on this damned cruise. My favorite cocktail dress had been ripped to shreds only hours ago, as Joe prepared to ravage me.

My only other dress suitable enough for a high-end restaurant did not go well at all with my new pink scarf. I needed something darker, and more formal.

Browsing through the rack, I found a beaded one with a rich plum hue. The dressed I planned to wear was burgundy velvet. It would have to do. I doubted Scott would give a rat's ass about the color of my scarf anyway.

I paid, and headed back to my room, taking the stairs naturally.

I cursed as I rushed through the door to my suite, my heart pounding. I was still so afraid of Joe catching me, confronting me with those penetrating eyes.

I had done my best to tell him off today, but had barely gotten through my speech without falling to my knees and sobbing. He exuded power, cutting through my defenses just by being near me. I couldn't explain it. And it didn't help that he knew my secret. My deepest, darkest, secret.

Last night had been my wildest fantasy, and yet it seemed as if it barely scratched the surface for Joe.

I could not become involved with him again. I had no concept of what he might do. He said he wanted to punish me, but somehow I doubted he would be waiting for me with a feather and pink paddle he bought off EBay. If last night had been his version of "fucking," then "punishment" would surely be more than I could bear. So why were my panties soaked?

Shaking myself out of it, I reminded myself that I was the victim. I had nothing to apologize for, and his assumption that I would show up willingly to "receive my punishment," was utterly ludicrous. He was a piece of work. I could almost pity him.

Shaking my head, I abandoned my bikini, rinsing it out in the sink a bit before turning on the shower. As I waited for the water to warm up, I removed my bandage.

Seeing my reflection in the mirror, I winced. Joe's bite mark was still glaring, though not nearly as bad as this morning. One thing was certain though. I would not be able to hide it completely with foundation. It still needed some time to heal.

Scott would definitely notice my big bandage if we were intimate tonight, which was bothersome, but there was no way I was taking it off. The mark still had very obvious tooth indentations, from a man, and I could not bear Scott's reaction if he found out.

So what would I say when he inevitably removed my scarf?

Stepping into the shower, I pondered a number of different excuses. What were some good reasons for someone having a big bandage on their neck? A scratch? Incision from a recent surgery? Hair stylist got sloppy?

I decided that when it came to formulating a lie, less was more.

My cat scratched me, I decided.

I didn't own a cat. I actually hated cats, but at the moment, they provided a very convenient and plausible excuse for my bandaged neck. And in the interim, my plum scarf would serve as an attractive disguise.

Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, I washed and conditioned my hair, did a full body scrub with my peach bodywash, and a final touch up on my bikini line before grabbing a fresh towel off the rack.

It was nice to know whom I was getting ready for, and what the plan was. With Scott, I knew what the routine would be. Nice dinner leads to nice sex. And if the sex turned out a little naughty, well, all the better.

I would happily endure even mediocre sex. At least it would offer some sense of normalcy. "Decent" sex with a man who cared was far more appealing than being raped by a lunatic, wasn't it?

I dried myself off thoroughly before starting on my hair. My long wavy hair was a pain sometimes, but when I had the time to work on it, it could look really beautiful. This was the first time in my life, it seemed, that I actually needed to kill time. So I went all out.

Within a couple hours, I looked spectacular. Scott was going to go nuts on me, I was sure.

Making sure to pack essentials, including a few condoms in my purse, I took one last look in the mirror. My new scarf was still covering the fresh bandage.

Satisfied, I snuck as quietly as I could out the door. It was 7:45, and arrogant asshole that he was, Joe was probably waiting intently for me in his suite.

Scurrying to the stairs, I did not draw breath until I was certain that I was out of earshot. Once again, that bastard had my heart racing. I was scared, breathless, and my pussy was dripping.

I had gone to great lengths to look fabulous, and here I was, panting like a nervous idiot. Very ladylike.

I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and took a few minutes to breathe.

He would not overpower me. He was a flawed man, like many flawed men. He would get the picture when I did not show tonight, and even if he didn't, fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

It was like a new mantra. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

Each repetition made Joe smaller, in my mind. A smaller man, a smaller threat. He just kept shrinking until he was the size of my thumb. He was so tiny it was laughable. I could squash him with my foot.

The idea of squashing Joe with my foot actually made me smile. And suddenly, I was free.

Resolved that my evening with Scott would erase all others in my memory of this cruise, I proceeded to the restaurant, calm, cool, and collected.

---

"Kate, is anything wrong? You've been so quiet," Scott inquired.

"Sorry, I'm fine, just a little tired. I guess I spent too much time in the sun today," I replied weakly. It was a lame answer and I knew it. What was there to say?

"I'm sorry. Will you make it through dinner?" Scott asked, showing concern.

I didn't know if he was concerned for my health, or for his plans, but it was a legitimate and very thoughtful question, so I indulged him.

"Don't worry about me. I am sure I will feel much better once they bring our food. Maybe I'll just have some bread for now," I smiled, reaching for the bread basket.

In my peripheral, I saw a figure headed to our table, and somehow I knew it was not the waiter. I just prayed it was not the man who had haunted my thoughts for the past twenty-four hours. But my heart knew, and it pounded with fear.

"Hello Kate. Who's the lucky man tonight?"

Joe stood at our table, his eyes unreadable. I just stared at him, my jaw dropped slightly. I couldn't believe he would go to such lengths.

"Umm, hello, I'm Scott. And you are?" Scott looked bewildered, like he was suspicious of something, but didn't understand why. He caught my glance questioningly before looking up at Joe again, awaiting an answer.

"I'm Joe. Sorry to interrupt, I was just checking in on my girl. Having a nice time darling?" he asked, a playful smirk on his face.

I sat frozen, staring up at Joe in disbelief. I didn't know what to say.

"Darling? Kate, who is this guy?" Scott questioned me, becoming agitated.

"Oh, you didn't tell him, darling? Scott, I'm the one who gave her a good hard fucking last night." Turning to me, Joe dared, "Tell him all about how you moaned for me Kate. Tell him what a little slut you are." Joe locked eyes with me, challenging me to object.

"Okay buddy, I think you'd best be moving on. We're on a date here, and I think you may have had a few too many. Get lost old man," Scott reprimanded.

Joe just smiled, like he had been dealt a winning hand.

Silently reaching into his pocket, he withdrew something small, and dropped it right in the center of the table.

I stared, horrified.

On the table, between our two glasses of wine, lay my sheer panties from last night.

Scott frowned, realization dawning on his face as he recognized that it was a set of used panties. He looked straight at me with suspicion in his eyes. "What the hell? Kate, do you know this man? Are those...yours?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but I had no words. They were my panties, and I obviously knew Joe, but to admit that openly to Scott would surely paint me as a whore. I couldn't say it aloud, but I couldn't lie. My eyes filled with tears, all I could manage was a slight nod.

"I think it is you who had best be moving on, kid. Leave now, or pay up. My whores don't work for free," said Joe, his voice laced with venom.

If there was ever a look of death, Joe had it down.

I looked pleadingly at Scott, begging him silently not to leave me, but he had an oddly vacant expression. Suddenly, warm, flirty, and funny Scott was gone. And the stranger sitting across from me seemed entirely indifferent to my plight. I felt sick. Could it be that I had been used by not one, but two men in two days?

"Apologies man," Scott grumbled, rising from his seat. "She's all yours."

Scott took one last irritated look at me, and coldly walked away.

I was dumbstruck. How could Scott not see that I was a victim? If he really cared about me, wouldn't he have defended me?

If I was honest with myself, Scott hadn't known me long enough to truly respect me and care about my welfare. Instinctively, I knew that he wanted what all men wanted. Joe had treated me so brutally last night, that today Scott had appeared a knight in shining armor. Yet again, I had proven how stupid and naïve I could be.

Scott was really just the lesser of two evils. Or was he?

At least Joe had been direct about what he wanted. He had told me he was going to take me, and he did. It was clear from the moment he shoved me against that door that he was not interested in romance, or anything other than a carnal relationship.

Scott had probably planned to keep up his charade of chivalry right up until he entered me. He would have had his fun with me, and discarded me in the way I had always feared.

I felt used, cheap, and worst of all, alone. No one was coming to my rescue tonight. I was at Joe's mercy again, and God only knew what he had in store for me now that I had "disobeyed" him, twice.

I knew I had done nothing wrong. But that didn't matter. Joe was going to make me pay.

Taking a deep breath, and smoothing his features as though my date with Scott had been a minor inconvenience, Joe sat down in Scott's recently vacated chair.

As if by design, the waiter arrived a split second later with the entrees Scott and I had ordered. He looked a bit puzzled upon seeing Joe, but quickly returned his focus to the task at hand.

"Would you like any ground pepper or fresh parmesan?" Alfonso asked politely.

"Kate?" Joe prompted.

I was still in shock, humiliated and stunned at the turn of events. But I managed to shake my head.

"We're fine, Alfonso. Thank you so much," Joe replied with a charming grin.

With a quick bow, Alfonso retreated.

"Whoa, this looks fantastic!" Joe said, excitedly digging into Scott's rib-eye steak. With a half-mouthful he remarked, "Scott has excellent taste!"

My eyes drifted downward, and I observed my mushroom tortellini. It did look delicious, but I had all but lost my appetite by now. I needed to calm down.

Reaching for my wine, I realized with horror that my panties were still sitting on the table, in plain sight. Quickly, I reached for them, determined to preserve whatever dignity I had left, when a deep voice warned, "Leave them."

"Joe, no! Please!" I whispered across the table. He couldn't possibly expect me to leave my panties laying out for anyone and everyone to see.

"Leave. Them." he repeated, his eyes suddenly void of all emotion. Joe kept his voice down, but his gruff threatening tone gave me chills. His expression brooked no refusal.

"Eat now, while I still allow it." Joe directed in a stern voice.

After searching his face for any trace of sarcasm, and finding none, I turned my attention to my plate. I had no doubt that Joe would deny me food later, if he deemed appropriate. Even though I had all but lost my appetite, I would need all the sustenance I could get, if last night was any indication.

I had no choice.

Acquiescent for the moment, I picked at my tortellini.