Notes from the author:
Hello all. Well you wanted longer chapters with more substance, and I think I delivered on both. But of course I had to throw some naughty in with the nice. It's just my way. Warning: If you were squeamish during certain scenes in chapter 10, brace yourself. Let me know what y'all think. Loves, J.
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Chapter 14
The sun drew me out of my slumber. I had crashed hard after Joe had taken me in the middle of the night. He had ravaged me for the umpteenth time, and showed no sign of stopping. And I loved it. I needed it again and again. Joe knew what I needed, and as shameful as it was, I was starting to slowly accept it. Accept him.
It was hard for me to say whether I had feelings for him as a result of conditioning, or if this was a one-in-a-million love at first sight kind of deal. I wanted to believe the latter, but I wasn't that naïve. I was past caring. My body wanted Joe. That was it. And with all the tenderness he had displayed in the past 24 hours, I had to wonder, did he really want me? Truly, to keep? It could be a mind fuck. God knew he was a master of manipulation. Only time would tell, and it was driving me crazy. As if I needed any help with that. This entire cruise had been one batshit crazy moment after another.
Shaking my head, I turned my attention to Joe, and was startled to find him staring at me, his eyes unreadable.
"What are you thinking Darling?"
What was I thinking? That was the million-dollar question, but I couldn't possibly share my current thoughts with him. It would freak him out and he would get rid of me with the utmost efficiency I had no doubt.
"Nothing," was my dumb answer.
Joe raised an eyebrow. He wasn't buying it and I couldn't blame him. I was the shittiest liar in the world.
"Alright Kate, I'm going to pretend you didn't just lie to me, and move on to another question. Are you hungry? I can order breakfast for us, maybe a bearclaw for my baby?"
My mind raced. I was his "baby" now? Not just "baby". MY baby. The tone with which he spoke the words was tender, but possessive. Like he had staked his claim and would cut off the head of anyone else who called me "baby". I loved it. I loved the thought of him staking his claim, bundling me into a wagon and dragging me home with him. It was a long harbored fantasy that had worlds to do with my current predicament.
"That sounds good," I mumbled, still groggy from sleep. I struggled to find anything cleverer to say, what with all the unrealistic hopes and fantasies running through my head that I couldn't share with Joe.
"Good. I'll make us some coffee while we wait," Joe added, turning to exit the bed.
Coffee. Coffee. Why did it feel like I was forgetting something?
I gasped aloud suddenly, causing Joe to whirl around, concern in his eyes.
"What is it Kate?" Joe demanded in a deep voice.
"Michael! I forgot my date with Michael!" I cried.
Suddenly, Joe stormed back to the bed, pinning me with his harsh stare.
"Kate, who the fuck is Michael?" he asked in a tone that reminded me of distant thunder.
"Michael! He's my friend. I told you about him remember?"
Clearly he did not. Of course. When I had briefly mentioned Michael, Joe's eyes were on the prize. I didn't recall him demanding any details then.
"Friend?" Joe repeated, clearly confused.
"Joe, he's gay! Not that it's any of your business!" I admonished. "Michael and I agreed to meet for breakfast the other day, and apparently I completely forgot about him yesterday morning. You had me a bit distracted. I need to go see him and tell him I'm okay."
I looked pleadingly at Joe, who had an intense look of suspicion on his face. He did not like the idea of me leaving. And while I knew I shouldn't need to ask his permission, I wanted to appease him.
"Your going to meet another man is not something I take lightly," Joe stated firmly. "Even if he has no romantic interest in you, he could easily be a pawn in your plan to escape me."
His expression was rife with suspicion and malice. How quickly Joe could go from tender and affectionate to harsh and controlling.
"Joe, I am not trying to escape you!" I declared, exasperated.
And then I paused, replaying my words in my head. I had spoken my mind, and very adamantly stated that I wasn't trying to get away from him. Ergo, that I wanted to be with him. I knew that Joe would be connecting the dots in his head, just as I was.
At least he appeared a bit more relaxed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But he still had not given me his approval. Not that I needed it, I reminded myself.
"You are to be back here in two hours," Joe dictated. "If you are not, and you make me come find you again, you will be sorry."
I should have been angry with him. I should have told him to go fuck himself, and that I could leave and return whenever and if ever I damn well pleased. But the look of conflict, of vulnerability in his eyes gave me pause.
He was scared. Scared of me running, of losing me. Perhaps it was my own wishful thinking, a childish sentiment that Joe cared for me in the way a prince should pine for a princess. My instinct told me Joe did care, and that he was about more than ruthless domination. More than an arrogant insane bastard who raped me. Whether or not either of us intended it, perhaps we both were falling for each other. Could it be possible? I couldn't help but wonder, in the back of my mind, if this actually was a thing between us. A legitimate bond, beyond sex and domination.
"Okay," I conceded.
Joe's mouth formed a firm line, and it was obvious that he wanted to say more, but was trusting me to keep my word. I knew that for a man like Joe, it had to be very difficult to let go of control. He had no way to know if I would return. He was letting his guard down, however reluctantly, and I found myself grateful, actually grateful, to Joe. This whole thing was nuts.
"I should get ready," I whispered, my eyes falling down to stare at the sheets. I couldn't bear his look of defeat any longer. It did not become him, at all.
Naturally, Joe's finger lifted my eyes to meet his again. He leaned in, and kissed me softly. There was something about his kiss that conveyed utter vulnerability, and resignation.
"Yes you should, Darling," Joe whispered before rising from the bed. "I'll leave you to it then."
I blinked in surprise. Joe was obviously trying to give me the benefit of the doubt. It felt so strange. I rose quietly, and proceeded to the bathroom alone.
Taking a minute to relieve myself, I stared at the doorway, waiting, dreading, hoping, for Joe to emerge. My tummy had butterflies at the thought of Joe once again witnessing me on the toilet. I recalled the look of absolute domination in his eyes as he watched me...the torturous feeling of embarrassment when he forced me, or commanded me rather, to look him in the eyes as my stream hit the water below. It was mortifying. But to be so dominated, so controlled, so owned...it was an experience I had coveted my entire adult life.
Joe was denying himself at this very moment I knew, and as shocking as it was, I myself felt denied. It was ludicrous. Denied of what? Humiliation, degradation, and ruthless domination?
Shaking myself out of it, I flushed the toilet and started up the shower. As the water began to warm, I stared at the door frame, expecting at any moment for Joe to appear, but he did not. He was really going to let me leave? He was. For two hours. I felt something akin to relief at the thought that Joe wanted me here. He wanted me enough to put a limit on how long I was allowed to be gone.
There was something flattering, endearing even, about the order Joe had issued. All I could focus on was that he wanted me back. He wanted me back. It was romantic and possessive all at once. Or maybe it was just a selfish bastard trying to control a naïve young woman. Whatever.
I sighed, and entered the shower for a quick shampoo and scrub down. I had been perfumed with essence of Joe. Literally. And I had a brief feeling of remorse as I lathered myself free of his addicting musk. It seemed that all I could ever think of when I was in the shower now was Joe. It was maddening and sinfully erotic at the same time. And the more I was with him, the less I wanted to fight those feelings. He was breaking down my barriers, as I had known he would. I knew, and he knew, that it was just a matter of time.
Shutting off the shower, I stepped timidly out of the tub, and quickly wrapped myself in a towel. Despite Joe's obvious desire for me, I was still self-conscious about my body. Perhaps I always would be. I was very tempted to shut the door and assure myself privacy while I dried myself, but I resisted. I had promised Joe I wouldn't close the door. He had resisted this long, why would he come in now? Satisfied that I wouldn't be interrupted, I rubbed myself down.
I had just finished drying my hair and putting some light makeup on when Joe appeared in the doorway. I shrunk back from him, still completely naked and vulnerable as ever. I would need to get past him to get to my clothes. God, what clothes? What did I have to wear that wasn't outright whorish? Never mind the fact that I'd be going commando.
As if he'd read my thoughts, Joe produced a soft pink sundress, and held it out to me.
"I figured you could use something a touch more conservative," Joe explained. "Especially since I won't be there to protect you."
Protect me? From whom? Sexual predators? Crazy assholes with giant egos? Joe was a walking contradiction. As was I, I supposed.
"Thanks," I whispered as I accepted the dress from him. It was the one he had picked up at the gift shop yesterday, along with all his fucking Joe-Approved scarves. It was admittedly more conservative, but still pretty lightweight. Well at least it wasn't skin tight. I'd just have to be careful that the ocean breeze didn't betray me.
Joe sighed, "Kate, I..."
He trailed off, and I waited for him to finish. That look of conflict seemed etched on his face, and it was terribly unsettling.
Shaking his head, Joe leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.
"Better get dressed Darling. Don't want to keep your friend waiting."
And before I could respond, Joe had exited the bathroom, leaving me confused and wondering what the hell had happened. Was this a mind fuck? Was he trying to manipulate me into staying by using whatever imaginary guilt I could conjure up?
It was my turn to shake my head, and I quickly pulled the dress on. It was cute. It had pink flowers on it. Like the first scarf I bought on this cruise. Giggling softly, I realized that that very scarf was probably still on the floor of my suite. My sorely under-utilized suite.
After applying some light lip-gloss, I hurried to find the sandals Joe had purchased, and slipping them on, proceeded to the door.
I should have just left, but I felt the need to turn and acknowledge Joe. I wasn't quite prepared for the look on his face. His expression was grim, a mask of indifference. But his eyes betrayed what seemed to be a mixture of pain, resignation, and fear. It took my breath away.
"Thank you Joe. I'll be back soon," I assured him.
Joe was silent, but managed a half smile. The sadness never left his eyes. He didn't approach me or try to touch me, and I was infinitely grateful. Had he touched me, I would likely have fallen back under his spell, and never made it to Michael.
I quickly exited the suite, not wanting to give myself the chance to chicken out and succumb to Joe. I was proud just to have made it through the door, and rushed with heavy feet to the elevator. I felt so alone. Everything seemed so quiet, so dead. Like I was leaving my world behind.
