Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Kota: Are you busy this evening?

The message came one random Friday evening. Coincidentally, I wasn’t scheduled to work the following day.

Me: No, I’m just chilling.

Kota: What are you currently doing?

Me: Just catching up on my favourite show with a bottle of jammy red, why?

I locked my phone and placed it screen down on my thigh. I picked up the wine glass from the side table beside my usual seat on the sofa, then I sipped the glass. I hummed at the taste, the sweet flavour of fruit bursting on my tongue.

I wanted to get drunk, but downing red wine was a bad idea. It was a recipe for me ending the night throwing up. It was also the only drink I had in my house of an alcoholic nature, so I gave in to the idea that it was going to be a very long night.

I half expected there to be no further responses from Kota. Sometimes he did that, asked what I was up to, then he would never respond once I gave him the answer. It was almost as if he wanted me to be doing something—with someone else.

I felt my phone vibrate on my thigh, pleasantly surprised at seeing his face once I unlocked the screen. I clicked his notification once his message met my eyes.

Kota: How about I finally come over. We can test out how obedient you can be once and for all.

My lips parted, my fingers tightening on the stem of my wine glass in my other hand. I let out a small breath I hadn’t realised I was holding before I chewed the inside of my lip as I typed out a response.

Me: You want to come over?

Kota: That’s what I just said isn’t it.

I looked at my TV screen for several long seconds, debating with myself in my head. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to invite the man over, but at the same time I was a single and young woman. There was no harm in me inviting a man to my house for some fun.

But I had never had a man inside my house that had also been given the opportunity to go to my bedroom. The few times I invited men over, all we did was hang out in the living room and watch some movies or whatever show I put on. I had never asked a man to come upstairs, and I had never had a man inside my bed.

The thought remained daunting, but I really wanted him over. I wanted to feel his skin under my fingertips and hear his voice whisper filthy commands into my ears. It was a new thing for me, to invite a man to my house for sex. But I had to remove the stigma I was allowing myself to believe in.

Humans were sexual beings, and there was only so much a vibrator could do to ease my need. I was pretty positive a man could fix all my sexual frustrations. And we were both overworked and stressed. The perfect cure for stress was sex, or so that was what Stefan and Peyton had both drunkenly told me over a few cocktails one time.

I looked back at my phone and prayed he hadn’t left his phone to be discarded at my delayed response .

Me: Sure, come over.

Me: *maps attachment sent*

His reply was instantaneous, and it made me smile despite the butterflies angrily fighting within my ribcage.

Kota: I’m on the way.

I knew he lived on the other side of the mountain from me, but there was no direct road and the route to get to mine would take him half an hour. So I did was any self respecting woman would. I decided to doll myself up in the time I had left until he was to come over.

I threw my glass of wine down, not bothering to check if any spilled over. Thankfully I had spent an hour every day after work cleaning in an attempt to late-Spring-clean my house, so there was next to no mess for me to clean up.

I breezed my way to the bathroom and turned the shower on, then my speaker as I began to play some music which would put me in the mood. I picked up my waterproof shower cap, then slipped my hair inside as I secured it around my head. I had washed my hair the night before, so it was still in good condition and I didn’t want wet hair to ruin the mood.

I stepped into the shower and let the water soak my skin before I picked up my favourite scent, one that was a typical scent for me but with a sexier edge to it.

I placed a large dollop of the soap onto my loofa, then I turned the water off so I could rub every inch of my skin without the water washing the suds away. I leant down, starting with scrubbing my feet. My hand moved up my calves, one at a time. I scrubbed as hard as I could, hoping the redness would be gone by the time he arrived.

My hand travelled from one leg to the other, then made it’s way up to my thighs. My hands scrubbed the skin, and I tried my best not to let my mind wandered to thoughts of him . I had to focus on cleaning as fast as I could, then dying off quickly before applying any moisturiser to make sure my skin wasn’t dried out from the abuse I was submitting it to.

My hand moved to between my legs, rubbing the parts which needed cleaning. The most sensitive of parts needed no soap, I wasn’t about to fuck up my pH balance, there was no need to.

My hand then snaked around my hips to my arse, and I scrubbed the skin to ensure any butt acne was gone to the best of my abilities. Then I moved my hand to scrubs as high up my back as I could. My hand snaked around my body, rubbing along my stomach and between my chest before I ensured my armpits were clean and body odour free.

Once I was sure every inch of my skin smelt like the body wash and not of my natural scent, I stepped out of the shower. I picked up the towel folded on top of the toilet seat, then rubbed it along my skin to dry every bit of water off I could save for my legs. I only gently patted the skin to ensure they were still slightly wet before I picked up my body oil.

I did an ‘everything shower’ at least once a week, but I was making so much effort for a man that I had never done before. I never even made half as much effort for Owen, and I felt mildly guilty for that. But then wasn’t the time to let my mind wander to such thoughts, I cursed myself.

I rubbed my slightly minty body oil over the skin of my legs, then on my arms just to make sure they looked a little more shiny and hydrated. Then I placed the spray bottle back on it’s place in the bathroom window before I picked up my pot of cocoa body lotion.

I twisted off the lid, a hard feat with my hands slightly oiled up. Then I dipped my fingers into the liquidly white, almost glittery, lotion. I scooped up a good amount between slightly cupped fingers, then I rubbed the product between my hands before I rubbed them along the lengths of my legs. I kept rubbing until I felt any slick disappear and I was sure my skin was absorbing the product nicely. Then I followed the same with my arms .

My mind began to wander back to Dakota, and that time I let it. My mind wandered to how it would feel to have his hands drag over my skin. Would he appreciate how soft my skin felt? Would he care that I had made so much effort for him?

I walked to my sink where the mirror sat, fogged up. I reached a hand out and rubbed it over the glass to remove the fog, then I was met with my reflection. I reached up and pulled my shower cap off my head before I washed my hands in the sink to rid myself of the slimy feeling from the oil and lotion.

I then picked up the tub of mascara I had left discarded on my sink from a few mornings earlier and opened it, applying a generous layer to ensure my eyelashes looked extended and made my eyes look prettier. Then I closed the tub and deemed myself in working order.

I picked up a sweet scented body spray, coconut and white chocolate, and sprayed some over my skin before I turned my speaker off. I picked my phone from it’s place on top of the radiator, then I made my way to the door that left to my utility room.

I opened the door to the tumble dryer and picked out a night dress, pale pink with tiny bits of lace around the top and bottom—where the dress met mid thigh. The dress was held up with two tiny white straps, easy for Dakota to take off to gain access to my body.

I sucked in a deep breath once I was home on the sofa again, and picked up my wine to take a long sip of it. I swallowed, then I considered if I had made a mistake. I wondered if I should brush my teeth, what if he hated the taste of wine?

But then I reminded myself he was likely not caring half as much about myself and how I would feel about him/what we were about to be doing. He wasn’t likely worrying his skin was dry or that I would taste what he had been drinking on his tongue.

I let out a sigh, and just as I tried to calm my mind into reminding myself he was just another man who I was likely going to fuck to get out of my system then never talk to again, my phone vibrated to reveal I had a new message.

I almost didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want to see if it was him. But I couldn’t just air him now that we were actually doing what we had been talking about for months.

I picked up my phone, and sure enough, it was him confirming he had arrived. So I picked up my wine glass, took a long sip of the glass once again until barely a dribble was left at the bottom of the glass, then I made my way to the front door.

I unlocked the door and opened it to find his white car in my driveway, an unfamiliar sight but one I almost hoped became a regular occurrence.

I pushed the thought from my mind and watched as he climbed out of the driver’s door. His hair had grown slightly from the last time I had seen him, but it still wasn’t quite long enough to style yet. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander, moving down to asses the outfit he had chosen to wear.

He wore light grey joggers and some football t-shirt—which team he wore or supported, I had no clue. I assumed England, but which county? Or city? No clue. But it joined the bucket list of things I had to find out about hm—what sports teams he followed.

I chewed the inside of my lower lip as I watched him saunter his way to me. He walked as if he owned the land, as if he owned me . The way he kept his head high and shoulders relaxed seemed as if he had been here a million times before.

I sucked in a small breath as he got but a few steps away. I watched as his green eyes snaked down my body, but his face remained expressionless. He then snapped his eyes back up to mine, a slight twinkle in them as he smirked one corner of his lips. “I’ve never seen you in those pyjamas before.” He referenced out texting endeavours, where I had sent photos of me in pyjamas, and further pictures of me undressing from them at his command .

He was trying to ease the mood firstly before we got into the nitty gritty, I realised. And I silently thanked him for it. Maybe he could sense my anxiety from a mile away—I wondered if my anticipation was that obvious.

I smiled and stepped out of the way for him, throwing my arm up behind me. “Come in,” I spoke, my voice sounding rather calm compared to how I actually felt inside.

He smiled and nodded his head before he stepped inside and made a few further paces into the hallway before he turned to me. He slipped his shoes off without me asking him to do so, and then crouched to push them against the wall neatly—beside the line of some of my own shoes.

I closed the front door behind me, then I watched as he stood back to his height. He was taller than me, and while I was of average height, his 6 foot 3 inches felt so much more intimidating in the cramped hallway of my home.

He stood, just staring at me. I tried my best to look back at him, right into his eyes, but I couldn’t I could barely handle staring at him for a few seconds before I looked away. He was intimidating, and without even lifting a finger, he held all the power in his hands. I wasn’t sure if he knew that, but it was a fact I was unhappy to admit.

“Are we just going to stand here all night, or…” He spoke up, his voice loud in the quiet of my home. I looked back at him and let out a small nervous laugh in response before I took a few steps towards him.

“Do you want to chill out first, or just go upstairs?” I asked, unsure what the appropriate action for us would be.

“Let’s just chill upstairs first, yeah?” He sounded as if he was giving me a choice to say no in the matter, but a part of me knew there was no debate to be had. He probably wanted to get the quick fuck out of his system, then leave. For all I knew, he had more ‘meet ups’ to go to that night.

So I nodded and made my way past him. It wasn’t a tight squeeze to walk past him, but the scent of his perfume felt like it was choking me when I manoeuvred around him. Once I was free around him, I felt all the air rush back to my lungs.

I turned to check he was following me, and I found him closer than I expected him to be. His walk had been silent. He must have noticed he surprised me, as when I began to ascend up the stairs, it seemed as if he made extra effort to make noise so I knew he was a few steps behind me.

I got to the top stair, then I debated if I wanted him to come into my room or if we should use the spare room. My thought process was that I could sleep in my bed without memories of it being tainted, and so that I wouldn’t need to change the bedding before I went to bed when I had only changed it three nights ago.

Kota got to the top step and stood so close to me I could feel the heat of his chest radiating through his clothes . He leant down, his breath lightly tickling my neck as he spoke in a barely-there whisper, “Are we going to fuck in the hallway?”

I let out a small and nervous laugh before I moved my feet to my bedroom. They felt heavy, and the reality of the situation was beginning to hit me more and more with every step I took.

“You don’t have many decorations on your walls,” I heard Kota note from a few steps behind me.

I entered my bedroom, then turned to face him. I watched as he walked through the door frame with grace, and his eyes scanned the room as if he was trying to take in every bit of information about me from the way it was styled. “Yeah, I never had many decorations on the walls when I was growing up. I like canvas paintings, so I need to find a place that sells ones that suit my style.”

He hummed in response with a lazy nod before he moved further into my room—before he moved closer to me . I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes now daring to find courage as I started right into his. But his eyes were locked in on my lips.

“You look pretty right now, but you didn’t need to make so much effort. I would have fucked you even if you were in the ugliest of pyjamas,” He smiled slightly, to which I rolled my eyes.

“Of course you would have,” My voice sounded more bitter than I intended. But then I tried my best to focus on the fact he had noticed I had put a lot of effort in, and he seemed to appreciate it.

We fell back into silence as his hand moved up to my jaw, his thumb daring to ghost along my bottom lip. I had to resist the urge from biting it.

“Ever since our first kiss,” He began, his voice whispered. It was as if he wanted to make sure I was the only person in the world to hear what he has to say, and it made my lower stomach churn with a feeling I wasn’t sure another man had ever stirred up in me before. “I haven’t stopped thinking about feeling your lips on me again. God, I need to get you out of my fucking system.”

Swearing sounded harsher on his tongue, as if it wasn’t supposed to be part of his vocabulary. But then my mind registered his words. I sucked in a breath and turned my head slightly so my eyes could assess the window.

I watched the clouds flying around at a rather brisk speed, as welcome distraction as I let my lips speak what my mind was thinking. “So this is just a one time hook up so you can get me out of your system?”

He gently pulled my face back to face his. His eyes flickered from my lips to my eyes for a brief second. “We’ll see.”

I let out a mild scoff at his words, but before I could fester in my sour mood, he leant down and pressed his gentle lips to mine. As he did so, a burst of synthetic watermelon hit my tongue. I had to laugh a little into the kiss to which he pulled back just enough to ask, “What?”

“You put watermelon lip balm on?” I asked between giggles to which I barely heard him urge me to shut up before he pressed his lips to mine, but I felt a smile against the kiss from him.

His free hand moved to wrap around my waist, and he began to lead me backwards. It was hard not to trip, but for some reason I trusted him enough to lead me. He commanded the room as if eh had been there a million times before, and as if he would be there a million times more.

The backs of my legs hit my bed, and I allowed him to gently lie me down. He came to kneel one leg beside my hip as his lips pulled away from my own to read my face, to make sure I was still into this as much as he was.

My hands moved to gently rest on his shoulders as I leant up to press a gentle kiss to his lips before I pulled back to lie back down, but my hands remained in their place. He accepted my challenge, his arm from my waist moving to grip my hip over my nightdress as he leant down to pepper kissed from the corner of my lip to my jaw, then down my neck.

I let out a soft gasp at the feeling, enjoying the effect his lips had on my skin. I tilted my head to the side to give him better access, and I had to stop myself from letting another gasp slip as I felt his teeth and tongue brush against my skin. But not once did he try to leave a mark. It was as if he was taunting me, as if he was trying to see if I would stop him if he did decide to mark me up as a way of showing the world I was his.

He pulled back once again. He kept his knee on the bed, but the rest of his body moved upright as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He then threw it somewhere on the floor behind him, and I made no effort to even bother seeing where it went. It was something we would have to find later.

I tried my best to keep my eyes from wandering and managed to close my eyes as I awaited further instruction. But as I lay there for a few seconds, nothing came. I opened my eyes again, only to find him staring down at me with a faint smile on his lips.

I raised an eyebrow, daring to lean up on my elbows slightly. “What are you doing, hurry up.”

He let out a small laugh, then his hand came to caress my cheek as his thumb rubbed along my cheekbone. “While I would love to sink into you right this seconds, we need to warm you up a bit first.”

“Warm me…” I began, muttering more so to myself. But as his hand disappeared from my face and reappeared on the inside of my left thigh, I realised what he meant and let out a small gasp in response at the new contact.

I lay back down and tried my best to focus on the feeling. His fingers, gentle on pressure but the skin rough from years of abusing his hands in ways I had yet to learn. It was a feeling I thought I could quite easy get addicted to.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Kota’s voice was barley there, and I half believed I had imagined it at first until I fluttered my eyes open to look into his. I was met by his vivid green eyes, and I was reminded of their vibrance. I was beyond confused as to why I had ever believed them to be grey.

As if his eyes put me into a trance, I heard my voice speak on it’s own volition. “I want to feel you… between my legs. I want you inside me.”

The room fell into silence for several long seconds, and I felt as if my lungs were beginning to be deprived oxygen. His aura was intimidating, and commanded a room without much effort from him.

“Well,” He began, his voice low and deadly as his eyes stared at me— through me. “What a shame you’re only here to please me. Are you ready to do as you’re told like a good girl?” His words hit the dark depraved pit in my chest.

“What is it that you want me to do?” I asked in the smallest voice I could manage, as if the room was full of spectators ready to judge me at any given second.

He hummed lowly and leant down, but his lips refused to kiss me. They brushed against my own, but as I tried to chase him for contact, he only pulled back. “You don’t get to be greedy, got it?” His words were harsh, and I knew that it was just the beginning to his degradation.

“Understood,” I nodded my head slightly.

He seemed not to like my response, however, as he sucked in a breath through his nose. “Understood, what?” He finally asked once he realised I had nothing further to say.

“What?” I asked confused for a second, then I remembered the way we sexted and felt my face flush. “You actually want me to call you that?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never once leaving mine.

In response, one I knew he would hate as I felt a giggle bubble within my chest. In tried my best not to let it escape my lips, but the noise still filled the room which only caused an eye roll from him, and his lips turned up at the corners into the faintest of smiles.

“I’ll allow it this one time, got it? Next time you laugh at me though, you’re getting punished,” He began, then his eyes sparkled as if he needed to test his own dominance over me. “Understood?”

I felt mild shame fill me, so I looked away from him to my vanity where my eyes watched the perfume bottles sat atop of it. “Understood…” My voice became quieter, barely there, even I almost couldn’t hear myself. “Daddy.”