Annihilate Me (17 page)

It
appeared that he also did.
 
No one
knew who we really were but ourselves, especially if we denied whom that
evolving person was because it was simply easier to do so.
 
But I hoped that one day he would take
the leap inward to figure out who Alex Wenn was without his parents’ abuse and
without the devastating loss of his wife, because a good deal of that person no
longer existed.
 

I
kept my voice light when I spoke again, the ugliness of my former life now cast
to the breeze.
 
I wasn’t going to
let it ruin my day.

“It’s
all about the tomatoes,” I said, taking another bite.
 
“And the cheese.”
 
I shrugged my shoulders as he
chewed.
 
“Oh, hell, and actually the
bread.”

“I’m
glad you’re satisfied.”

“I
am.
 
I hope you are.”

“I
don’t think you realize how satisfied I am,” he said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When
we left the farm stand, it was with three paper sacks filled with vegetables,
two bunches of sunflowers, cheeses, breads and salads, all of which somehow fit
into the Mercedes’ tiny trunk.
 

While
I was putting the bags inside in such a way that it would minimize the risk of
everything rolling around on our trip home, I spotted Alex speaking again with
one of the guards.
 
He was
gesticulating with his hands, and I saw him show the guard his cell phone,
which the guard looked at before Alex addressed him again.

Something’s going on.
 
But how far do I press it?
 
If it had to do with business, he wouldn’t
consult with his security.
 
He’d
consult with his board.
 
Or maybe
with me.
 
So what is it?

When
he came back to the car, he looked tense until he saw me, and then his face
brightened.
 
But that happened a bit
too quickly—it was like a switch going on—and my suspicions
deepened.
 
We each got into the car.

“Is
something wrong, Alex?”

“Just
the usual shit.”

“What’s
the usual shit?”

“People,”
he said.
 
“When I first met you when
you interviewed for me, I told you that I wouldn’t mind leaving Manhattan behind
and just living in Maine.
 
But I
can’t do that now, so I have to put up with distractions.
 
All the time.
 
Generally, I just deal with it, but I
have no time for it here when I’m with you.
 
Sorry if I sound agitated.”

“Don’t
worry about it.
 
Can you elaborate?”

“I’d
rather not talk about it.
 
It’s
being taken care of.
 
I’m not trying
to shut you out, Jennifer—that’s not my intent.
 
In fact, what I’m trying to do is just
the opposite.
 
I want to let them
deal with whatever it is they need to deal with so I can let you in.
 
Let them work through the bullshit.”

What bullshit?
 
“OK.
 
But if you need to talk, I’m here to
listen.”

He
started the car.
 
“I appreciate
that.
 
And thanks for letting me
vent and deal with it on my own.
 
I
came here to chill out and maximize my time with you.
 
I plan to do that.
 
They’ll handle the rest.”

The rest of what?

*
 
*
 
*
 

When
we got back to his place, we pulled beneath the shade of an elm tree and
unpacked the trunk.
 
One of the
guards wanted to talk to Alex, but he instructed the man to talk to the other
guard, who just now was parking up the street in his Range Rover.
 

“Scott
just briefed me,” he said.
 
“Jennifer and I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day
unless it’s critical.
 
Understood?
 
Critical.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Thank
you, Ben.”

What could be critical?

Bags
in hand, we went inside the house.
 
While Alex unloaded the groceries into the already packed refrigerator,
I stood over the sink and clipped the ends of the sunflowers with a pair of
scissors I found in a drawer.

“Do
you have a large vase?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

He
left the kitchen, came back with one, and kissed me on the back of my
neck.
 
I arranged the flowers,
filled the vase with water, and then admired the bouquet on the sideboard
before I brought it to the dining room and placed it in the center of the long,
rectangular table.

Alex
came up behind me and put his arms around my waist.
 
“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“I
love sunflowers.”

“Would
you like to take a walk with me on the beach?”

“I’d
love to.”

We
walked down the wooden stairs that led to the shoreline, and started off to the
right.
 
Even with the breeze coming
off the ocean, it was still early enough in September to be comfortable in
shorts and a light shirt.
 
I looked
well ahead of us, and noticed for the first time that there seemed to be no
other houses after Alex’s.
 

“How
much of the beachfront is yours?” I asked.

“Pretty
much as far as you can see.”

I
turned to him.
 
“You own all of
this?”

“My
parents did, so I guess now I do.”

I
wanted to ask him how his parents died, but I also wanted to keep the mood
light after the earlier tension.
 
I’d wait for him to tell me himself.
 
I knew I could Google it, but that felt
invasive to me.
 
He’d tell me when
he was ready.
 

I
reached for his hand, he grasped it tightly in his own, and he pulled me close
to him.
 
I wasn’t sure what I felt
when his fingers closed over mine—a needing, a wanting—but it was
meaningful.
 
Something was happening
to him now that he didn’t want to discuss with me.
 
I needed to respect his privacy, just as
I would expect him to respect mine if there was something I didn’t want to talk
about.
 
But at his level, our
problems were worlds apart.
 
I
couldn’t imagine what it might be, but it was significant.
 
I hadn’t seen him like this before.
 
This was different from the tension
brought on by too much work.
 
This
was something else.

We
walked for about ten minutes before nature eventually did its thing.
 
Gradually, I felt him begin to
relax.
 
His hand didn’t hold so
tightly onto mine; instead, it softened against mine.
 
I heard him take a deep, cleansing
breath, and then it was just the two of us with the ocean lapping against the
shore or crashing into rocks in the background.
 
Seagulls sailed overhead with a
cacophony of calls.
 
I let go of his
hand, reached behind me, released my ponytail, and shook out my hair.
 
It immediately picked up the breeze and
it felt wonderful.
 
He watched me as
I did it, and I could sense a shift in him.

He
stopped and turned to me.
 
“I’m
sorry about today.”

“I
know you’re under some kind of pressure.
 
When you want to tell me, tell me.
 
There’s no need to apologize.”

“Thank
you for that.

“There’s
no need to thank me.”

“It’s
just that sometimes things in my life can go to shit in an instant.
 
I have no control over it.
 
I’ll say it again because it bears
repeating.
 
The only thing I want
during this week is to be with you and to have some normalcy with you.”
 
He bent down, took my face in his hands,
and kissed me hard on the lips.
 
“And I want to make love to you, Jennifer.
 
Now.”

I
wished he wouldn’t use the word ‘love’, but there was no stopping him.
 
Until I knew that what we had was real,
and that it was indeed love that was growing between us, I prefered that he
just say he wanted to be with me.
 
That
was better.
 
That made my own demons
happier.
 
Otherwise, it was
confusing to me and to them.
 
My
trust issues kicked in, and my barriers went up.
 

But
I wasn’t going to let them get the best of me.
 
Not now.
 
Not after last night, and not after that
confession.

“You
want to do it here?” I asked.

“Why
not?”

“Because
we’re out in the open.”

“And
that doesn’t interest you?”

There
was a dare in his voice that I instantly responded to.
 
I rarely passed on a dare.
 
I looked around us.
 
There didn’t appear to be a soul in
sight, but that didn’t mean that one of his guards wasn’t lurking within the
tree line.
 
“What if somebody sees
us?”

“What
if they do?”

“We
could be arrested.”

“This
is private property.
 
Come over
here.
 
It’s dry.
 
No hard rocks, just fine gravel and some
sand.
 
Come.”

Today
had been such a mixed bag of weirdness.
 
I had expected this to come later, not so early in the afternoon.
 
And certainly not here.
 
But I wanted it.
 
I wanted it to be like it was last night
when we were connected and before I knew that something was troubling him, and
that men were guarding him and his property for some reason unknown to me.
 
I wanted to get us back on course.
 
So I followed him away from the ocean
toward the edge of the trees.
 
I sat
down and looked up at him.
 
The sun
shone against his back, and cast his features in deep shadow.

“Take
off your shirt,” he said.

“Take
off your pants.”

“Shirt
first.”

“We
do this together, or not at all,” I said.

“So,
we’re always going to be on equal ground?”

“Maybe
not always—it’ll likely fluctuate—but right now we are.”

“Fine.
 
Then, shirt for shirt.”

“I’m
up for that.”
 
I’m
so not up for this.

I
pulled my shirt over my head, and he did the same.
 
He laid his shirt down just to the left
of me, and then took my shirt and laid it just below his, making a blanket of
sorts.

“Stand
up,” he said.

I
did.

“Turn
around.”

I
did what I was told.

He
brushed the sand off my ass and then asked me to sit on our shirts.
 
“No sand that way.
 
You won’t want any of that when I enter
you.”

My
lips parted at that, but I said nothing.

“To
be fair, you need to take off your bra.
 
Then we’ll be even.”

I
hesitated, but then I removed it, and I couldn’t help but feel a chill of
anticipation mixed with the unexpected thrill of exposure.
 
How did he know exactly what to do to me
to make me feel that thrill?
 
Was I
so easily read?
 
Was I that
obvious?
 
I never thought I was, but
he clearly knew what he was doing with me, and how far he could go with
me.
 
He pushed right up against my
self-imposed line of ‘don’t go any further.’
 
Then he pressed it to the edge, and took
it a bit further so I was just outside of my comfort zone, but not so far out
of it that I became uncomfortable.
 
He was wickedly evil that way, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a turn
on.
 
Alex took me to the point where
I was nervous as hell, but not in such a way that I felt compelled to
flee.
 
It was a balancing act that
he’d mastered.

And
I was his servant.

He
took off his shorts, and I saw that he was wearing no underwear, which
surprised me.
 
His cock, long and
flaccid, hung beautifully between his legs.
 
I thought it was perfect, and now, in
the daylight and despite him being in shadow, I certainly had a better view of
it than I did last night.
 
Seeing it
was enough to inflame me with desire.
 
I wanted to reach out and touch it, but I knew he’d have none of that
until I was completely naked.

“Now,
your
shorts,” he said roughly.

I
removed them and saw the look of disbelief that crossed his face when he
noticed that I wasn’t wearing panties.
 
Feeling brazen, I spread my legs for him and leaned back, bracing myself
with my arms on his shirt.
 
I was
already wet.
 
I knew he could tell,
and his face darkened as he took in the length of my body.