Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Marcy's P.O.V

The minute he drops me on his bed, his hands divert to my clothes and he quickly sheds the clothing one by one till I'm butt naked.

I reach up and pull him close, needing the taste of his lips. His tongue invades my mouth and he lets out a groan as bites, teases and pleasures my lips with his kisses.

"More Kyle." I moan and feel his hands on my breasts, squeezing and pinching my nipples, driving me insane as I find myself screaming with passion.

His foreplay is torture. His heated mouth is on my right nipple and he suckles it without pity, almost aggressively while his other hand is on my left nipple.

"Kyle!!" I'm screaming as I feel his fingers on my wetness, teasing and sliding up and down.

Then a finger slips inside me.

"So fucking wet." He groans, moving his finger and his mouth switches to my other nipple.

His finger is moving slow and torturing me out of my senses.

"Just fuck me, Kyle. Please just fuck me." I moan, grabbing handfulls of his sheet and writhing under him.

Then I feel his finger slip out and immediately, his hot tongue comes in contact, torturing me out of my senses. The heat of his expert tongue is everywhere...sucking, licking and teasing

"Oh, God. Yes!!" I scream, unable to control the need within me.

His mouth moves to the top of my crowning wetness and he suckles it.

I can't help screaming as I grab his hair and press him closer, losing control.

"Kyle!" I'm yelling, arching my back as I prepare for a backbreaking release.

I scream his name again as I burst with climax and grab more handfulls of sheets as waves of release keep coming, giving me an experience that is otherwordly.

"Mmmm." I purr as he lies down next to me.

"You're great at playing pretend." I murmur as sleep suddenly makes my eyes too heavy to look at him but I can feel him close.

"Shh. Sleep." He says and I snuggle closer to him.

"Yeah. Sleep." I mutter before finally drifting off.

*****

Too much sun.

Way too much sun.

I groan as I turn the other way, keeping my eyes shut.

How did I forget to close the blinds yesterday?

The space next to me feels warm but when I lean close to it, there's no one there.

Wait a minute.

I suddenly open my eyes as sit up immediately.

My gaze is still fuzzy but I know two things for sure.

I'm naked.

This isn't my room.

I hold the sheets up to cover my breasts as my gaze adjusts to the bright room and my heartbeat multiplies.

Oh no.

Oh no.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

I know this room. And I don't welcome the feeling that comes with the realisation of who has this room.

Mr. Robinson.

I'm in Mr. Robinson's bedroom. Naked. With my jeans and blouse and underwear discarded around his furniture.

I turn to shuffle out when I realise he is sitting on this side of the bed, with his bare back to me and his hands cradling his head.

Like he made a bad decision.

Gee, you think?

"Oh God, no." I let the words escape as I cover my mouth with my hand. His posture confirms it.

"We didn't have sex." He is saying but I'm too busy crying and shuffling backwards, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"Anne." He says and gets up, turning to me.

"I have to get out of here." I'm muttering as I scamper out of his bed and trip over something, falling firm on the chair, all the while clutching his white sheets to me like a life line.

"God, will you calm down? You'll hurt yourself." He says as he rounds the bed to help me up.

"Don't come near me!" I scream and he freezes to the spot.

"We didn't. Have. Sex." He says slowly but I know something happened.

For God's sake I'm naked.

"Then what did we do?!" I demand and his expression turns intense. He looks down.

"What did we do?!" I scream and get up, standing in his front.

"Foreplay! Just fucking foreplay, okay? You want details? That I fingered you? That I gave you head and ate you out till you were squirting?" He demands.

I lash out with all the anger and shock and smack him hard and firm on the face.

He stumbles back and looks at me with shock but I don't care.

"You ASSHOLE! I was drunk!" I yell.

"Oh, you can remember that part?" He retorts and I don't believe what I'm hearing

This can't be happening.

Mr. Robinson is glaring at me,

"Maybe if you hadn't fucking emptied a whole bottle of white wine, you'd have a bit of dignity left."

"Don't you dare talk to me about dignity, you...You..."

"What are you going to call me? Player? Fucktard? Womaniser? Somehow that seems to bruise your dignity not mine."

I slap him again, unable to defend how I look like a careless, desperate and horñy teenager.

I pick up my clothes and start leaving his room.

"Go ahead and run, Anne. You can't hide from this."

"I was vulnerable!" I yell, now turning to face him.

"Why would you get vulnerable in the first place? Why would you drink? You never drink." He says.

"That's my business."

"Its my wine."

"It doesn't give you the fucking right to take advantage of me."

"Take advantage? Please. Sweetheart, you were begging for it. You wanted to play pretend and you literally asked me to fuck you. You called me Kyle the entire time you were grinding on me."

"You're a monster." I say in tears, hating the way I can't stop crying and how shameful I am right now.

"Obviously I didn't know what I was saying and you go ahead and take me to your room like a slut?"

"You don't remember what you were saying doesn't mean you didn't know. When people are drunk, they reveal their thoughts, just like you did last night." He fires back without an atom of feeling.

"How can you say that?! You do this to me and you want to justify your actions by saying I revealed myself? You said no more hurt will come to me and that you will never put me in a position like this again. Well, shame on me for believing you." I say and all look of pride vanishes from his face.

"God, Anne. I....I'm an idiot. I don't mean a single word I've been saying, I'm so sorry." He says but I would rather die than believe him.

"I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that guys like you exist." I say and let go of his sheets as it falls off my body and lands on the floor.

Then I run into my room, clutching my clothes as I slam the door.

"Anne!" he is yelling but I escape into the bathroom where I can't hear him and cry my eyes out.

His insistent banging on my door doesnt stop until I'm done crying and I can hear his retreating footsteps.

I feel dirty. Stupid. Useless. Careless.

An idiot.

How did I turn one glass of wine to one bottle?

Am I really that low? That desperate?

That sad?

And did I really beg him to fuck me?

God, what is happening to me?

How did I let myself end up in this situation?

I feel like an actual slutty stripper and I climb into the shower. Scrubbing my body and washing my hair, over and over, almost as if I could scrub away the humiliation.

The embarassment.

By the time I'm done showering, I don't feel any better and I just hold myself as I stay in a sitting position on my bed.

Me.

Marcella Jensen. After every struggle to put myself in a better and higher position, I end up like this.

Getting drunk and begging my millionaire playboy boss for sex.

I became those ladies.

That seek the lowest of attention and desperate for just about anything to end up in his bed.

The thought awakens more reality that only makes me feel worse.

I have to get out of here.

I need to get out of here.

Hastily, I slip on a jumpsuit and pack my hair into a messy bun. The house is awfully quiet when I step out and I mutter a silent word of thanks.

He is gone.

The kitchen is empty and no sign that Mr. Robinson ate breakfast. Good.

I don't care if he fires me, I hope he starves to death.

'You want details? That I fingered you? That I gave you head and ate you out till you were squirting?'

I feel like slapping myself. I got drunk and practically released all my pent up passionate needs on my boss.

Oh God.

I stare at the well stocked fridge and I don't fancy the nice breakfast options.

The peanut butter cookie dough rolI states back at me and even though it's not chocolate, I grab it anyway.

Without bothering to sit down, I rip it open and shovel a spoonful in my mouth.

Maybe it's time for me to quit.

Any more accidental passionate moments and I'll be pregnant for him.

"Urgh." I mutter at the thought and scoop another spoon full of cookie dough into my mouth.

Suddenly, a hand is on my shoulder and before I can react, I'm being whipped around to face Mr. Robinson's blue eyes.

"I lost it, okay? I admit it. At that moment all I could think of was sex because Holly left literally at the peak of it. And you came out of nowhere with your hair down, rubbing on me and saying all sorts of dirty things--"

I try to push him away. I don't want to hear this part. He holds me back.

"But I shouldn't have done it. No matter how tempting it was, no matter how easy it will be to just say I'm only human and it was your fault. That's a dick move. I'm sorry."

He says and holds my gaze. I want to yell at him and say,

'That's all you ever say. You're sorry, you're sorry, you're sorry. For once prove it.

But his blue eyes hold mine and I watch the glowing white specs in them dance in the sunlight.

Suddenly I want to tell him everything. That I'm mostly angry at myself for so easily giving into alcohol after so many years, after so much experience. After so many regrets.

But instead, all I do is lean in to him just as he is leaning close to me, and I relish in the amazing feeling of his lips on mine.

"God, I can't get enough of you." He mutters as he groans and pulls me closer, kissing me deeper and more demanding.

I let my weakness take over as I surrender to his kissing when he suddenly pulls away, his face a mirror of shock as he observes me.

"What?" I say, trying to catch my breath.

"You had peanut butter." He mutters and by the time it clicks to my head on what is going on, he starts choking for breath.

"Oh, my God! You're allergic, I forgot!" I yell in fearful panic as I race to him. He is already grabbing the edge of the counter for support. Panic won't let me think clearly and I look around for anything when I remember his allergy shot.

I race for the first aid box where it's placed in the wall and yank it out with shaking hands.

The contents spill out and I spot the shot immediately. Without hesitation, I grab it and run to him.

He is on the floor now.

"Okay. Okay, I'm here." Im saying and drop to my knees as aim the shot. He is shaking and choking so much I can't get a perfect aim and I don't want to waste anymore time. I jab him with the shot on his chest and his body goes stiff as he squeezes his eyes shot.

"Mr. Robinson?! Oh, God, I didn't do it right." I say as i get up and run to the living room, grabbing the telephone.

Running out of time...

Running out of time....

I only memorized one emergency number and I dial it immediately. I hold it to my ear and wait for someone to pick when his hand touches my shoulder.

I turn around immediately and look at him. His eyes are a bit tired but he takes the phone away from my hand anyway and hangs it up.

"I'm fine." He says and I thankfully jump on him, hugging him as all the fear in me melts to relief.

I pull away a little to look at him, with my arms still around him.

"I'm so sorry, I forgot I was stuffing my face with peanut butter cookie dough and I was too ignorant to stop you when we...." my voice trails off at the realization of what we were doing.

He is staring at me with a thoughtful expression, observing me as I slowly move out of our hug.

"I...um...I'm sorry. About the peanut butter." I say and try to move past him.

"I'll make breakfast." I say but he pulls me back.

"Its okay. You don't have to."

"But--"

"I know you wanted to leave the house. I would apologise for kissing you but..." he shrugs, "I wanted to. I'm sorry if you regret it. I don't know how to prove I'm sorry about last night without spending money. So if what you want is to leave the house for now, then take the day off."

I'm staring at him, paralyzed with shock.

He wants me to take the day off?

"Mr. Robinson--"

"Go Anne. Take some time off, check on your brother. It's fine." He says and I nod. I grab my car key from where I left it in the kitchen and as I head for the door, Mr. Robinson still has his eyes on me.

I want to ask him again if he is sure but he beats me to it.

"Go." He says softly and I leave the house. The minute I drive outside, I can't help touching my lips and the thoughts swirling in my head about last night.