Healing Melody (10 page)

As I wait for him to knock on my door, I realize what I am doing. I’m letting a complete stranger into my house. What if he’s a serial killer? Fuck, now I decide to worry about this? I’ve already let him through the gate and he’s walking to my door! I quickly run to the safe in my bedroom and punch in the code. I unlock it and take out a small handgun. I’ve never fired it. I purchased it three years ago when I found a deranged-looking thirty-year-old man waiting for me in my kitchen with flowers. He broke into my house. He said his name was James, said he loved me, and wanted us to get married. I talked calmly to James as I texted 911 on my phone. James is now locked up in some psych ward.

My doorbell rings. I quickly slide open my nightstand drawer and place the gun inside. Now, it’s easily accessible if anything crazy happens. I’m about to step out of the bedroom when I realize I don’t have my mask on. I grab it and slip it on, then make sure it’s tightly fastened behind my head so it won’t slip. I check myself in the mirror. This white mask really makes me look like the Phantom of the Opera. I check my outfit. I’m wearing a long burgundy peasant skirt with a black tank top under a chambray shirt. For some strange reason, I hope this guy I’m paying to fuck me likes what I’m wearing. The doorbell rings again. I hurry out of the bedroom and toward the back door. Mingus runs after me the whole way. I realize he might be too much of a distraction, so I scoop him up and lock him in one of the bathrooms with a bowl of food and water.

“This is only temporary, Mingus. I just can’t have you barking while I’m fucking. It’s a mood killer.”

Mingus whimpers a reply as I close the bathroom door. The doorbell rings again.

“I’m coming,” I shout. I scurry toward the back door. I take a deep breath and touch my white plastic mask one last time – just to make sure it hasn’t shifted.
 
I don’t want my scars to scare him away.

Finally, I open the door.

He’s staring straight at me. Those dark, deep eyes set in a chiseled face. I scan his body.
 

Damn, he is fine.

He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt and worn out blue jeans. It’s a simple ensemble but one that highlights his perfect physique. This dude is rock solid: muscular, tattooed arms, strong thighs and legs. And his face: gorgeous – like it’s been chiseled out of marble as some sculptor’s idea of what the perfect man should look like. He has dark hair and full lips. But it’s those damn eyes that really draw me in. They’re so intense, brimming with emotion. Then I notice the surprised look on his face. It’s my mask. I’ve caught him off guard. I didn’t warn him beforehand. I touch the mask gently with my hand. I’m about to comment on it but struggle with what to say.
 

So I say nothing.
 

We stare at each other in silence. I sense he’s trying to figure out what kind of weird shit he signed up for. He gives me a slight nod and tries to smile, but I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to him.

“Sorry, it took me a bit,” he says. “I don’t live anywhere near your neighborhood.”

I hear the sadness in his voice. He’s trying to hide it. But if you listen closely, you can sense it in the few words he just uttered.
 

It’s been so long since I’ve had a man like this in my presence. Scratch that. I’ve never had a man as impressive as him stare at me before. And wearing this mask, I suddenly feel really foolish.
 

This was a mistake. But I’ve already opened the door. I have to let him in now. I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves.
 

“Please come in,” I say as I open the door wider so he can pass through.
 

I inhale as he walks past me. Damn… I’ve missed the scent of a man. And this guy, Kade, smells good, like the outdoors, woodsy but mixed with spice. I feel myself getting woozy from his presence. I convince myself it’s because of him and not the vodka tonics I’ve had throughout the night.
 

He turns around and faces me, his hands in his jean pockets. He gives a quick glance around the place and shrugs.

“Nice place,” he remarks, but I can tell by the way he says it that he doesn’t really care.

“Thanks.”

We stand still, staring at each other again, saying nothing. Those eyes. I see an intense storm brewing in them. He’s on the edge of something. Something deep and sorrowful. His energy might be dark and mysterious but it’s also strangely comforting. My attraction toward him escalates. I can’t explain why.

“I should have warned you,” I say.

“About?”

“The mask.”

He shrugs. “Whatever makes you comfortable is fine with me.”

He keeps staring at me, and I realize if I’m going to go through with this, I should warn him about the scars on my body too.
 

“I had an accident,” I say. “I have scars. All over my body. Including my face. I should have warned you over the phone.” I take another deep breath. “If you want to cancel this meeting, I understand.”

He ponders what I said, and I’m suddenly racked with nerves. I realize I don’t want him to go. In the few seconds he’s been in my home, I’ve felt the air shift around me.
 
His dark, soulful presence is astonishing. It pulls me in, like the force of a magnet. And up close, he looks even hotter than his picture. Even though I’m nervous about it, I know I just have to see what he looks like underneath those clothes. I have to see him naked.
 

But I can’t blame him if he doesn’t want to have sex with my scar-covered body. I really should have mentioned it over the phone when I was talking to him. Now it’s awkward.

“Will it hurt? If I touch you?” he asks. I notice the concerned tone in his voice. I wasn’t expecting it.

I shake my head. Then quickly make sure my mask hasn’t shifted. “No,” I say. “It won’t hurt. But there are scars everywhere.”

He shrugs. “I’m fine with it, if you are?” he says. “I just want to know if I need to be gentle.”

Another long moment of silence. We keep staring at each other. His dark gaze is so intense. It’s mesmerizing.

“Please don’t be gentle,” I confide. “I’m not that type of girl.”

Did I just say that? I guess it’s the vodka talking, but it’s true.

Physical sex – the unbridled, no-holds barred kind – is what I prefer. Tonight will test whether my body can handle it after the accident.

“Good to know,” he replies. After a pause, he admits with a shrug, “I’m not really the slow and romantic type.”

Our eyes meet again and my body begins to tingle. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the excited rush of sexual energy run through my veins.
 

“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No thanks.”

“Are you in training? Your profile said you’re a fighter.”

He nods. “Yeah. I fight underground.”

“What makes it underground?”

“No rules.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Can be,” he says with a shrug.

This Kade isn’t much of a talker, but I don’t care. I didn’t hire him for that. I hired him to fuck me. And I get the impression he knows what he’s doing in that department.
 

“Is this going to be your first time since the accident?” he asks.

I nod slowly.

“Well, I hope I can make it memorable,” he says.
 

I smirk behind the mask. “Trust me, looking the way you do, I don’t think it will be an issue.”

I’m feeling bolder now, more comfortable. My attraction to this guy is growing with each passing second. And my sexual desire is coming back to life.

“Well, I’m here to please you,” he says with another shrug, “Your satisfaction is guaranteed. If you don’t like anything I do, just let me know.” He pauses then says, “And if you want to take off that mask so you’re comfortable –”

I raise my hand, cutting him off.

“You don’t want to see what I look like underneath this thing.” I touch the mask with my fingers. “You’d cringe, and it would ruin an already awkward encounter.”

There’s a pause, then he asks, “Why is this awkward?”
 

“Well, because of this mask,” I confess.

He nods and looks at the ground. He’s pondering what I just said. Then he looks at me. Staring straight into my eyes, he takes a few steps forward. I feel a nervous rush of excitement shoot through me. He begins to echo the words from our phone conversation. “I thought you called me because you wanted to get fucked. Wanted to feel my hands over your skin, my cock deep inside of you. Isn’t that right?”

He moves in closer and my skin grows heated from his presence.

“That’s right,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “Well, that has nothing to do with how you look.” He’s even closer now. His voice turns into a whisper as he stares into me. “That’s about our bodies colliding. The skin is just surface. Everything below it is what matters.”

I inhale deeply; he’s so close. “You smell good.”

I’m hypnotized by his presence; by the way he looks at me. For a brief moment, he’s made me feel like I’m not wearing a mask. I know he’s probably putting on an act – his job is pleasuring people after all – but I appreciate what he just said. I’m happy with my decision. I’ve chosen the perfect man to have sex with since the accident. But before we go any further, I need to make sure of something.

“You won’t tell anyone will you?”

He’s surprised by my question. “What do you mean? About us?”

I nod.

“I don’t even know your name,” he confides with a slight smirk. “Are you famous?”

I slowly nod. “I used to be.”

He shrugs, takes another deep look at me and says, “Nobody will know.”

Although I’ve just met him, I sense that I can trust him.

I lead him toward my bedroom, still surprised by how nervous I feel. Can I really go through with this? Have him see my naked body – the jumbled clutter of scars? Sure, a lot of the damage from the fire has been repaired. But there are still so many imperfections.
 

“Is that a dog?”
 

I turn around. Mingus is whimpering from inside the bathroom we just passed.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to let him out?” he asks.
 

“He’s a puppy,” I respond. “I just got him. I’m worried he might ruin the mood, you know?”

He looks at me a little surprised. “You’re locking your puppy in a bathroom when you live in a house of this size?”

I don’t know what to say. He’s right. Mingus deserves to be treated better. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

I open the bathroom door. Mingus scrambles out and starts circling Kade’s feet. Kade’s face breaks into a grin as he looks at the puppy. He bends down and picks Mingus up. Mingus happily licks his face. Kade smiles – a real big smile, and the first I’ve seen from him. It shatters the somber presence he had earlier. His smile looks so genuine, so sincere. My attraction to him grows tenfold.

 
I really want to fuck this guy.
 

“Hey, little fella,” Kade says to Mingus as the puppy continues licking his face. The tough exterior I saw when I first opened the door has vanished. I’m now staring at a gorgeous, well-built man holding a puppy. Kade’s warmth and friendliness is palpable. “What’s his name?” he asks, turning to me, smiling.

“Mingus,” I reply, still shocked by his change in demeanor.
 

“After the jazz musician?”

I’m surprised he guessed right. Charles Mingus was an old-school jazz musician from the fifties and sixties.

“Yeah,” I say with a nod.

“Cool.” Kade raises Mingus and looks into his puppy eyes. “You’ve got a cool name after a cool dude, buddy.” Mingus returns the compliment by lathering Kade’s face with his tongue. Kade chuckles and lowers Mingus to the floor. When he straightens up, our eyes meet. I feel an electric shock. That’s what his gaze does to me. It’s like sex lightning!
 

I take a deep breath to calm myself and continue walking toward the bedroom; Mingus follows close behind.

It’s been so long since I’ve had a man in my company – since I’ve felt a masculine presence in my home. I miss it. And even if I have to pay for it, I’ll treasure it tonight.
 

When I get to the door, I turn around. “Okay, he can’t follow us into the bedroom.”

Kade looks down at the puppy and shrugs. “Sorry dude, she’s the boss.”

Mingus whimpers as we close the bedroom door on him. Once inside my room, I walk over to the stereo and put on music – to drown Mingus’s whimpers from the hallway.

“
In This Special Place
,” says Kade, recognizing the song.

“One of my favorite albums,” I reply.
 

“Good fucking music, that’s for sure,” he says with an appreciative nod.

As the music fills the room, we stare at each other silently.
 

“So, how should we do this?” I ask, feeling a nervous knot in my stomach start to grow.

He takes a few slow steps forward.
 

“Would you feel more comfortable with the lights turned off?” he asks.