Love Becomes Her. Donna Hill
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wanted to spend the rest of the day jumping for joy, spinning around naked in her room, reveling in her newfound sexuality. But the practicality of life took root. She’d just made love to a man-child. It felt damn good, there was no doubt about it, and she wanted more and more. That was her fear. So when Michael asked to stay with her for the rest of the day and night, she said no. And then told him on his way out the line that most men give women, “I’ll call you.”
So here she was, still tingling from the afterglow, sitting in her best girlfriend’s house, whose life was in a shambles and she didn’t have the heart to spill her own tale all over Elizabeth’s perfectly polished kitchen table.
Chapter 9
Stephanie listened to the phone ring and checked the number on the caller ID. Conrad. Her heart began to race.
Things had gone too far. Conrad was out of control. She pressed her fist to her mouth as she listened to his voice on the answering machine.
“Steph, if you’re there pick up. We need to talk. Stephanie, pick up. I know you’re home. Your car is parked out front.”
She ran to the window and peeked out from between the slats in the blinds five stories below. Conrad’s silver Lexus was in front of her door.
“Open the door or I’m using my key.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. In a stupid moment of lust she’d given him her spare key so that he could “slip between her and her sheets whenever he wanted.” She would have to get the locks changed and pronto.
She finger fluffed her short do, smoothed her lemon yellow fitted sweater top over her tight jeans and picked up the phone. “I’m here,” she murmured and felt ill.
“I’ll be right up.”
Stephanie sat in the armchair facing the door as she heard the locks release and watched the knob turn. She slid her hand down between the cushion and felt the security of cold metal brush her fingers. She’d shoot him if she had to. Simple as that.
Conrad walked in, all smiles, and when she looked at him, for a moment she forgot everything she’d promised herself to remember; that he was using her, that he’d physically hurt her, that he was never going to leave his wife and that she wasn’t getting any more promotions if she wasn’t putting out any more of her body. He’d made that clear the other night.
Instead, she thought about how he made her feel, how he’d awakened the dormant sexuality in her that had spun out of control, how he’d been the first man in her life to help her experience a real orgasm. That had never happened to her before, until she’d met Conrad. He made her do things that she’d only imagined, and she enjoyed it. And he’d become more demanding as the months progressed. As much as he’d begun to disgust her, he still thrilled her, and that was worse than anything else.
“Hey, baby.” He crossed the room, leaned down and kissed her long and slow.
“Hi,” she whispered when he stepped back.
He looked down at her. “You look tired. Long night?”
That tone was in his voice, the cajoling, demanding tone that preceded the innuendos and accusations.
“Not really.” She shrugged. “Just an evening with the girls.”
“Hmm.” He took his jacket off and tossed it on the couch. “The girls, huh? You sure about that?” His dark eyes grew hard, the line between his brow deepened.
Her breath tightened in her chest. “Of course I’m sure.” She stood. He pushed her back down in the chair then leaned over her, locking her in place with his hands on either side of the chair’s arms.
“Sure there were no guys there?”
“No,” she croaked.
“I don’t believe you.” He pulled her up by the wrist and up to his chest. His arm wrapped around her body. He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled her scent. “Show me what you did,” he said in an urgent whisper.
“I…didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t believe you.” He bit down on her neck and sucked it gently, then with more urgency. “Show me.” His free hand slid up her sweater. She trembled at his touch.
“Conrad…please…”
“Yes, I know, baby…”
He lowered her to the floor and as much as she hated what he was doing to her body, she couldn’t find the will to resist. Her cries were as much in ecstasy as they were ones for help.
Conrad looked down at her huddled on the floor as he zipped his pants. He smiled as if he truly cared about her. “We have a major new client coming in on Monday. I want you to run the program. You’re the best, and if anyone can land this big fish you can.”
She turned her head away and tried to cover her shame with her discarded sweater, even as her body still throbbed with pleasure.
“And I promise you, Steph, if you get the account, your bonus will be your biggest ever.” He knelt down beside her and with a tenderness that made her heart constrict, he stroked her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, you know that.” His eyes ran over her face. He took his fingertip, placed it beneath her chin and turned her to face him. “Beautiful,” he said again. “And talented…on many levels. That’s why I love you, why I want you at my side.” He lowered his head and kissed her, then abruptly stood.
“I have to go. Son has a basketball game this afternoon.” He adjusted his clothes then picked up his jacket from the couch. “I’ll probably be back tonight. Late. Wait up for me.”
She nodded. He turned to leave. If she could find the strength, she could reach into the chair cushion, take out the gun and shoot him where he stood. Then it would be over. Finally.
The door closed behind him and he was gone.
The sun was beginning to set when Stephanie came to herself and looked around. She’d stayed there curled in a knot on the floor like discarded laundry for hours. She’d lost track of time. Willing herself to move, she pushed up on her hands and knees and slowly stood.
She glanced down at her nude body, the angry red bruises on her stomach and stickiness between her thighs quick and painful reminders. She shivered and not from a chill. She reached for her clothes on the floor, nearly falling over as her head spun. Holding on to the furniture and the walls, she finally made it to the bathroom. She sat down on the lid of the commode and turned on the tub. At least the hot water would wash away the remnants from the outside, but she didn’t think anything could cleanse her battered spirit.
How could she have allowed her life to get so ugly, so out of control? She didn’t know what to do, how to fix it. Too many people relied on her and she couldn’t let them down. There was no way out. If she quit, she knew that Conrad would blacklist her. She’d never be able to work in New York or any other major city again. If she went to the board, no one would believe her, not to mention how humiliated she would feel, having to confess the extent to which she’d participated over the past year.
She was trapped. Trapped by need, trapped by responsibility and trapped by her body. Conrad knew it and pushed all her hot buttons.
But it had gone too far now and she was afraid. She needed a way out, but she didn’t see any open doors in her future.
Her phone rang in the distance. She didn’t have the energy or the desire to get up and get it. She turned off the water to listen to the voice coming through the answering machine.
“Steph, it’s us, me Barbara and us,” she giggled, obviously excited. “We’re waiting for you at my house. Hurry up. And bring your laptop.”
Stephanie frowned in concentration. Waiting for her? What the hell for? Slowly the pieces began to fall into place and a glimmer of hope settled in her gut. Maybe a door was opening after all.