As he’d been busy working on the numbers for his spreadsheet presentation for Tuesday, I had received a call from my mother. It was strange that she had nothing to say about the fact that Dom was nine years older than me. She only wanted to know if he was safe in terms of protection.
She thought that I was having sex with him.
She thought that he was good-looking and she hoped that we were happy together. My father was as grumpy as usual and I knew that he wasn’t going to call me simply because he did not communicate at all when it came to things that he disapproved of. But I was glad to have that all out of the way.
And then my mind strayed to other things.
I wondered if I would have fit into his world had I desired to.
Even though I had chosen to keep my virginity to myself, I was still somewhat sideways of what anyone would believe a good girl to be like. I had enjoyed making out with both Kay and Flo and I wondered seriously if I was into both men and women.
That would be the most likely scenario, right?
I sighed to myself, unable to think beyond that break in my thoughts.
But that was a lie.
My mind took me to interesting places and I wished that I had my Fantasy Journal with me.
I was thinking about what Dom had said, particularly the part where he’d said that Flo would allow him to be with other women in her presence.
And that’s what I was thinking about.
I imagined all three of us in his office, on that desk.
I imagined his lips and her lips and their hands and me being the center of their attention.
I shook my head.
That escalated really quickly!
I shook my head again and removed myself from my own idle company.
I strolled into the small library and sat on the table there, gazing around at the shelves.
Business, philosophy, engineering, travel, arts and crafts, current affairs and politics, nature, cookery, fiction and non-fiction and poetry.
He had just about everything in here. I wondered what he did with the other books…
The novels ranged from old classics to tales told about a futuristic existence. I found that he read not just broader than I did, but complex, speculative fiction as well.
I was taken back to my admiration of Tolkien, still wondering how he was able to create such a realistic story of Middle Earth.
I wished I could have been that bold and brave.
I had never actually read any of his work, but now that I saw that Dom had some, I would be sure to engage.
Lots and lots of crime fiction. The covers alone suggested that there was a thrill here of the horror variety.
I wondered then, if we had never met and I was published one day, would he have read my work?
He’d read my poetry before, but it was a whole separate mindset, my poetry.
Maybe I would give him a manuscript, but which one?
And then I feared the criticism that would follow.
That was part of the point, wasn’t it?
To be molded and perfected in the skill?
And I would never be able to please everybody anyway.
It was a serious discussion with myself, thinking about what to let him read. My earliest works were so embarrassing that I found myself wanting to burn them.
And now that I knew where he’d been, I immediately discarded any romantic stories.
They were all the same, weren’t they? One person met another and they fell in love. There was some struggling of some kind and then they lived happily ever after.
Then that left nothing.
I had nothing to show him.
That was humiliating.
I slid off the tabletop and I was just exiting the room when I heard sounds coming from the kitchen. I stood in the hallway, looking toward the room in question.
I felt my pulse leap at the knowledge that he was near.
And seeing him didn’t help matters much.
He walked up to me, in his lovely suit and with his free hand, he pulled me close. I pressed my head to his chest, wrapping my arms around him.
I loved listening to the sound of his heartbeat, a slow and steady thud.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I smiled to myself.
“I’m gonna go rest a while,” he said.
“Alright,” I said, hearing the tiredness in his voice.
“I’ll come check on you later.”
He let go of me and I held on a beat longer before I let him go. I watched him walk up the stairs seeing how his shoulders seemed to slump.
It had only been three hours since we saw each other and I wondered what could have happened that could drain him this much.
It seemed like more than a physical thing.
But I could not wait for later.
I found the door ajar when I approached his room half an hour later. He was in a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling evenly. He hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes.
He was facing away from the door, lying on his back.
He looked young, very young.
And even though he was resting, he still looked tired.
I just wanted to hold him until he was fully rested.
His eyes snapped open and I immediately regretted waking him up.
I didn’t even know how to phrase what I wanted to say.
Why was I here?
I moved closer and helped him into a seated position.
If he had ever been drunk, I thought he’d look like this.
I loosened his tie and removed it completely.
He tried to speak but I shushed him, dropping to my knees so I could pull his socks off. Together, we unbuttoned his shirt and I helped him take that off.
But this was where I stopped. I planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and he in turn dropped kisses on my knuckles.
I left the room, my ears picking up the sound of his zipper, knowing that he’d taken his pants off. I left the door ajar and headed back down to the library and picked up the copy of The Lord of The Rings that I’d seen earlier.
I then went to the guest room and huddled down in the bed.
And as I started the book, the door opened and there Dom stood. He was in sweat pants and a shirt, looking as mundane as ever.
I smiled ruefully at him as I shuffled further into the bed, answering his silent plea. He walked over to the bed, dragging his feet and pulled the covers back as he settled into the bed. He snatched the book from me to see what i was reading and I chuckled. He handed it back to me before he flopped down again.
I noted how he didn’t really cover himself and I didn’t try to alter that.
He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
For a moment, I pretended to read, watching his eyes flutter closed in the periphery of my vision.
Finally, he dosed off and I felt my heart warm, a smile coming to my lips.
I liked this.
Volumes, spoken in near total silence.