me.
A s I slide into the town car, it was all I could do to not turn around and look back at the Detective. I could feel his eyes on me, and it bothers me that it doesn’t bother me. The same eyes I felt on me the second I was walked into the station. I give men a wide berth, I don’t date, and I certainly don’t have sex. I’m too fucked up. Afraid. I’m not even ashamed to admit it. My short stint the hospital after the attack proved two things, one I wasn’t given any diseases thank fuck and two when and if I decided to ever be intimate with someone he would have to have the patience of a saint and balls of steel. Ten years have passed and though I have urges like any other woman, fear kept me from finding a man and taking that next step. That’s what vibrators are for right? Plus, I need the control. Deep down though, that fear took a back seat tonight and something else took its place…fucking confusion.
That Detective made me feel things I have no business feeling. Vulnerable, desired, and protected. I can’t even reconcile myself to this madness right now, and all over holding onto him like my life depended on it, the fact that it felt right. God, I wanted to crawl onto his lap when the man never even said one word. It was his eyes, though. For a man who doesn’t say much, his eyes say everything his mouth doesn’t. I can tell he’s as fucked up as I am on some level. This man appeals to me on every fucked up level I’ve got.
He’s probably younger than he looks, but at 6’4”, 275 lbs, shaved head, beard, tattoos, built like a tank. He isn’t muscular, he’s one big muscle, and he’s the ultimate alpha male. If I had to guess, I would say he doesn’t smile much, but if he did, I’d throw my panties at his feet and beg for his cock. Which, for me, is fucking scary shit. Being raped changed me, hardened me. Mostly because I didn’t have my mom and dad to help me through it. I’m not against sex or intimacy, I’ve just never found someone I can trust to see me through that, either. Seeing him standing there, then him holding onto me, I saw it in his eyes and I felt it. I could trust him; I could trust everything with him if I wanted to. And, yeah, I wanted to.
Women as a whole would consider him ugly. In fact, I’m certain most would take one look at him and run, but the second he filled that room, he was the only thing I saw and felt. The most brutal thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I have to be a part of his life, the biggest part. If I didn’t know better, I would swear our breathing was in sync, that’s how I know he’s what I’ve waited for. My mom’s voice drifts through me, and I fight for my breath while unshed tears burn. It was like she just said it yesterday at dinner but like any kid, I didn’t listen, I didn’t get it then.
Before Maddy was born, Mom and I did everything together, and my mom loved to talk about everything, too. She was so sweet and wise, always seeing the good. Every year, we went to the orchard and she asked me to find the biggest, scariest, most out of place pumpkin to buy. I asked her why. She told me because it was the unique ones that made the sweetest pie.
Every year, we went to pick out our Christmas tree, she told me to pick out the saddest, most damaged and loneliest tree to buy. I asked her why. She told me that all trees started out the same. They were each a seed that took root, depending on who cared for them. Some grew to be huge trees that held more ornaments than we would ever have, then were those that hardly grew at all because they were forgotten. It was those trees that needed love. We always picked that tree, we always made it beautiful, and we loved that tree all season. She was right, she was always right. Since I was a kid, I’ve always looked for the pumpkin and the tree in the crowd, and it only took twenty seven years for me to find mine.
That’s him; the detective. At first glance, you would want to
A s I slide into the town car, it was all I could do to not turn around and look back at the Detective. I could feel his eyes on me, and it bothers me that it doesn’t bother me. The same eyes I felt on me the second I was walked into the station. I give men a wide berth, I don’t date, and I certainly don’t have sex. I’m too fucked up. Afraid. I’m not even ashamed to admit it. My short stint the hospital after the attack proved two things, one I wasn’t given any diseases thank fuck and two when and if I decided to ever be intimate with someone he would have to have the patience of a saint and balls of steel. Ten years have passed and though I have urges like any other woman, fear kept me from finding a man and taking that next step. That’s what vibrators are for right? Plus, I need the control. Deep down though, that fear took a back seat tonight and something else took its place…fucking confusion.
That Detective made me feel things I have no business feeling. Vulnerable, desired, and protected. I can’t even reconcile myself to this madness right now, and all over holding onto him like my life depended on it, the fact that it felt right. God, I wanted to crawl onto his lap when the man never even said one word. It was his eyes, though. For a man who doesn’t say much, his eyes say everything his mouth doesn’t. I can tell he’s as fucked up as I am on some level. This man appeals to me on every fucked up level I’ve got.
He’s probably younger than he looks, but at 6’4”, 275 lbs, shaved head, beard, tattoos, built like a tank. He isn’t muscular, he’s one big muscle, and he’s the ultimate alpha male. If I had to guess, I would say he doesn’t smile much, but if he did, I’d throw my panties at his feet and beg for his cock. Which, for me, is fucking scary shit. Being raped changed me, hardened me. Mostly because I didn’t have my mom and dad to help me through it. I’m not against sex or intimacy, I’ve just never found someone I can trust to see me through that, either. Seeing him standing there, then him holding onto me, I saw it in his eyes and I felt it. I could trust him; I could trust everything with him if I wanted to. And, yeah, I wanted to.
Women as a whole would consider him ugly. In fact, I’m certain most would take one look at him and run, but the second he filled that room, he was the only thing I saw and felt. The most brutal thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I have to be a part of his life, the biggest part. If I didn’t know better, I would swear our breathing was in sync, that’s how I know he’s what I’ve waited for. My mom’s voice drifts through me, and I fight for my breath while unshed tears burn. It was like she just said it yesterday at dinner but like any kid, I didn’t listen, I didn’t get it then.
Before Maddy was born, Mom and I did everything together, and my mom loved to talk about everything, too. She was so sweet and wise, always seeing the good. Every year, we went to the orchard and she asked me to find the biggest, scariest, most out of place pumpkin to buy. I asked her why. She told me because it was the unique ones that made the sweetest pie.
Every year, we went to pick out our Christmas tree, she told me to pick out the saddest, most damaged and loneliest tree to buy. I asked her why. She told me that all trees started out the same. They were each a seed that took root, depending on who cared for them. Some grew to be huge trees that held more ornaments than we would ever have, then were those that hardly grew at all because they were forgotten. It was those trees that needed love. We always picked that tree, we always made it beautiful, and we loved that tree all season. She was right, she was always right. Since I was a kid, I’ve always looked for the pumpkin and the tree in the crowd, and it only took twenty seven years for me to find mine.
That’s him; the detective. At first glance, you would want to
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