Chapter 3 Ripples Of Pleasure

hapter 3

Freda

This is why I didn't want to come to this party.

Ken Forester stood before me, his chest heaving and his hands still bunched up into tight fists as he stared at Drake's limp body on the ground.

He offered me his hand kindly, and only then did I realize that I was still lying crumpled in his garden. I also realised he had seen me get viciously slapped. Tears of embarrassment rose to my eyes without permission. I gritted my teeth together and stood up without taking his hand.

"Thank you," I said mutedly. What was I thanking him for? Taking care of the situation because I wasn't able to do it? I wondered.

"He should be the one to thank me," Ken said. "I knocked him out before you could murder him."

I let out a short laugh, but chose not to respond. Would I ever have hurt Drake in return? I had never done that before. I wasn't a violent person, and I had always seen it as something beneath me.

But watching Ken punch Drake in the face had been strangely cathartic. Has it been that easy all along? One punch and he would shut up? Had I been wasting my time and energy trying to be civil?

"Hey, are you okay?" Ken asked me.

I couldn't see his eyes. My heart was weighed heavily by an ugly combination of guilt, disgust, and self-hate. My legs itched to run to my house and hide until tomorrow came.

"I'm gonna go home..." I said, staring at Drake's unmoving figure. Was I just going to leave him here?

"You can leave him here," Ken said to me. "I'll have someone put him in my old room."

"TELL THEM TO WATCH out for him. He's violent."

"

An unerring silence settled between us. My thoughts felt all in disarray, and I felt the familiar blanket of anxiety wrap me in its arms. I had made all the wrong decisions and wasted years of my life on a useless piece of shit. Drake was beginning to stir a little bit, and I couldn't handle that. I spun on my heel and began to walk toward the exit.

"Bye, Ken . I'll see you later," I called as I rushed out. "Thanks for helping out."

He jogged after me. "Hey, hang on, hang on."

I huffed, reluctantly coming to a stop. Why couldn't he see that I wanted – that I needed to be alone?

"Yes?" I asked him politely.

"Are you sure you're good to go home alone?" he asked me.

"Yes, Ken -"

"'Cause I gotta say, you got crazy eyes."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He seemed to stammer a bit, "Your-uh, eyes. They look like you're feeling kind of crazy." I blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Look," he began, pulling his hands close together, "that was really upsetting, what just happened. You shouldn't be alone right now."

I crossed my arms before me. "And, why not?"

He blinked as if he were wondering if it was a rhetorical question. When I stared at him mutedly, he said, "Well it's 1 am, which is pretty late and the street dogs chase you at night. Also you're emotionally distraught and I... Well, I wouldn't leave a friend alone that way."

I laughed bitterly, my tears finally leaking onto my cheeks. "A friend! I don't deserve that from you. I really don't. I watched you go through this shit for – what – ten years, and I never lifted a finger. I did nothing!"

"You protested sometimes-"

"Oh! I protested sometimes. Did that help you when Drake crapped on your life every single day?"

"No, but I saw enough to know you weren't a bitch," He said sharply.

I shook my head at him, letting out a hollow laugh. "You just struck him down... It was always that easy. I could never do it. I never did it. That makes me as much of a bitch as he is... No, that makes me a fucking wuss!"

"Jesus, you were not a wuss, you were just a normal human kid in love!" He threw his hands in the air. I had no idea why this now strange man was here, trying so hard to comfort me. I wiped the tears glazing my cheeks. "People do dumb shit when they're in love! Drake is the asshole who wants everyone to behave exactly how he wants it or he gets violent, and the dumbest thing you could do is to go charging alone into the night over someone as worthless as him."

I shrugged. "Well, I already gave him years of my life. I guess I am dumb."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Look, Ken , I'm really, so amazed at how kind you are. It's almost unbelievable. I thought Drake wrecked you for good-"

"Pfft, he can try."

"But I've already taken enough of your night to have you walk me all the way home. I'll just ruin your evening further."

He sighed, resting his hands on his waist. "Come on, you'll be doing me a favor. I can't go back to that party."

"Why don't you wanna stay at your party?" I asked him.

"Same reason you don't."

"Avoiding people and confrontation?"

"Yep," he said without skipping a beat.

"Alright," I said, warily giving in. "Come on."

I swung the gate open and stepped out, my dress trailing behind me. The night was cool and crisp, a light breeze filtering through the shaded lanes. Ken fell in step beside me with ease. I threw him a glance, noticing he really had grown taller.

"There are a lot more trees here than before," he commented.

I cleared my throat. "Your mother started a green initiative thing with the city council two years ago."

He glanced at me with surprise. "She did?"

"Yeah. The council spent a chunk of money getting these saplings into the city." I gently touched a nearby branch. The leaves shone with the subtle sheen of silver moonlight. "She led the charge really well."

"Yeah, she can be fierce."

"She's...formidable," I breathed. I had watched Lyla Forester take on the slowest, sleaziest players of the city council to get what she wanted. She was ruthless. Relentless.

"She's a pain in the ass," I heard Ken mutter. I turned to look at his expression. Even under the shadowy blanket of the night, I could see his brows turned down into a rather defensive frown.

"I thought she was inspiring," I said honestly. He rolled his eyes.

"The relentless, tunnel-visioned activist is only tolerable from a distance. It doesn't work when her switch never turns off, even when she's home."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing to someone who hasn't experienced it."

I gave him a look. Just because I hadn't lived through something, didn't mean I couldn't practice basic empathy. "Try me," I insisted.

He gave me the side-eye. "Were we planning on a long walk where we discuss our feelings?"

I gave him a small smile. "I don't know. Were we?"

He huffed, his pace increasing marginally. I recognized the Pizza Hut six blocks away from home.

"I don't know how I feel about discussing family troubles with...well, a stranger," he said, giving me a crooked grin.

"I think I'd like it," I told him. "You became an unwilling participant in a very private moment in my life. Maybe I'm just trying to even out the playing field."

He chuckled, "That's fair, I'll give you that."

I sidestepped a late night jogger and fell in step beside Ken . It seemed very strange to look at his face – someone I had known for so long, and at the same time, someone I knew so little.

"How did you...do all this?" I asked him.

"All what?" His eyes met mine as we walked.

"Your company, all the money, all that success..." I said. "It must have been hard."

"Not really." He paused thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, it took some really long nights. But it was an easy venture because I was fulfilling a need society has. Every new technology has to do that, or it withers away. You can't really go wrong with a product that's vital."

I listened to him with rapture, remembering the early days of Drake and I living together, back when he worked for a startup and did things he was actually excited about. We'd sit together every evening, drinking tea and smoking a thin joint to relax and let loose.

The memory made me sad, and I wrapped my coat around myself, huddling within and trying to shield myself from the devastated feeling everyone has to suffer through after a break up. The fact that Drake and I lived together made the whole situation even more complicated.

"Fuck," I mumbled.

"What?" Ken asked.

"I gotta start packing when I get home," I said more to myself than to him. I pulled out my cell phone. "Maybe I'll stay with Trench for a while."

"You and Drake live together?"

"Yeah, we do," I said, punching a quick text to Trench . "I don't want to discuss the apartment with Drake right now, and I don't want to see him alone. I'd rather run, quite honestly."

Ken threw me an uncomfortable glance, as if debating something in his head. The expression was arresting, his eyebrows were pulled together slightly and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"What are you looking at me for?" I asked him.

"I was just wondering...has he hit you before?"

I felt my jaw lock up as I glanced away ahead, straight into the empty streets.

"I didn't mean to be intrusive, but-"

"But, you are. You keep demanding answers from me, while you want to say nothing about yourself," I said simply.

"You're right," he admitted, to my great surprise. "I did that."

"Thank you for admitting it."

"Let's level the playing field, then." He turned around to walk backwards and gave me a sly grin. "Ask me anything."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Anything?" I confirmed.

"Yeah."

"Ummm..." I bit my lip. This was an unexpected opportunity. What did I want to know about Ken Forester's life?

"Okay," I began, lifting a finger, "I have a ready one. Why do you hate your mother?"

He laughed. "You're not letting that go, huh?"

"It's just a different side of her I'm hearing about. I'm curious."

He sighed, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. "She expects perfection in all forms, at all times, from everyone. Obsessively so. It gets exhausting, that's all."

I nodded without offering a response or a deeper question. I didn't really understand the situation, and I didn't want to push it since he seemed to harden up a bit every time I mentioned her.

"She makes me feel trapped," he finished.

That, I understood. The suffocating blanket that tries to drown you in its throes was an old, familiar friend of mine. You can only spend so long imagining it doesn't exist. It demands your attention, forcing your actions into a sluggish haze where you don't really feel like you're making decisions in your life anymore. You're just floating.

Until tonight. No, tonight was different. Tonight, I took action. I told Drake, for the last fucking time, no. I would not be a slave to his impulses. It was not my job to fix him. The future was really uncertain now. I had known so little of life outside Drake. But it would be better. It had to be.

I smiled at Ken . "I'm glad you left the party, then. Who has time for that suffocating shit, right?"

He grinned at me, the crinkles around his green eyes deepening. "That's right. Felix is gonna kill me, though."

"Felix?" I asked.

"Felix Baker? He went to our school?" he said. I shook my head at him. "You really don't remember?"

"No, I was kind of a bitch in high school," I told him truthfully.

He laughed out loud. It was a pleasant, jovial sound that made me smile, as well. His hair flipped back with a lazy abandon. Damn, he's pretty, I thought.

"I thought you were alright." He gave me a weird, knowing smile.

His tone made me giggle. "What? What is that smile?"

"What smile?"

"Your face!" I said, pointing at him. He was grinning from ear to ear, a single dimple I'd never noticed before punctuating his right cheek.

"What about it?"

"Tell me what you're all smiley about!" I insisted, skipping a little.

"Well..." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets again. I noticed he tended to do that when he was discussing something he was nervous about. "I never exactly told you before, but I had a crush on you in school."

I nodded, smiling. "Oh yeah, you told me I was pretty once."

"Yeah, well, that was the first day we met. I liked you for like, three years or something after that."

My mouth fell open. "You what?"

He looked taken aback. "You really couldn't tell?"

"I had no idea!"

"You'd have to be dumb not to see it. I was so fucking obvious, it was pathetic."

"Oh wow," I said, going over the already hazy memories of school in my mind. Ken had been on the edges of my life, a few polite conversations here and there, and that was that. I was surprised, and what was more surprising was that it was a pleasant surprise. "I really never knew. Drake always told me that you were," I made finger quotes, "'hot for me,' but I just thought he was lying."

"Why do you think he started kicking my ass extra hard in 8th grade?" he asked, giving me a smile that was somehow cocky and self-deprecating at the same time.

"Well you can't expect me to be a mind-reader," I told him. "You never really said anything to me."

He shrugged. "That's true."

"Chicken." I was accused.

"I was too chicken 'cause I thought your boyfriend would murder me."

"Ex-boyfriend," I clarified.

"You guys are really done, then?" he asked me, his eyes twinkling.

I let out a short laugh, matching his gaze. "Maybe I'm wrong, but you look kind of happy."

He matched my grin. "Maybe I think you deserve better."

"You're a smooth talker," I said, suddenly realizing we weren't walking anymore. We were standing quite still, our bodies inches apart from each other, leaning in. I took a deep breath. Ken smelled incredible. I felt as though his entire body was radiating heat.

Who is this guy? I wondered, trying to reconcile the nervous blond boy I remembered with this dark-haired wisecracker before me.

His breath brushed across my face as he opened his mouth. "We're at your house."

I blinked. "What?"

"Your house. This is your house right?" He pointed to the familiar brick building behind me.

"Oh, yes." I nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets again and glanced at me from under his lashes, and I had to smile.

He's freaking adorable.

"Do you..." I trailed off. Was I really considering this?

I glanced at Ken 's face and felt that unusual feeling that had been recurring all night. We were strangers who weren't strangers. Old friends who were meeting for the first time. I didn't want him to leave. I wasn't sure what I really wanted to do...but I wanted him to stay.

"Want to come help me pack?" I finished. "There's a lot of stuff, and I'm not sure I can get it done in time."

He blinked at me, his poker face slipping for a moment. How cute. "Sure, I'd love to help."

I WAS NERVOUS. I COULD clearly remember the last time I had sex. It was five months ago, right before a party celebrating Tessy getting into law school. I didn't want to go to the party, and I certainly did not want to go with Drake. It had begun to embarrass me to be around him when he lost his temper, or got hammered or both. I had begun to avoid public events and parties at all costs. I remembered staring at my reflection in the mirror while talking to him sometimes and feeling as though the person in the reflection was nothing like me anymore. Not a smidge.

However, that was a big night for Tessy. I had to be there for her, and honestly I was a little excited, too. I had, somehow, managed to convince Drake not to drink at the party. It had been a long, tiring conversation.

"You look marvellous," he'd said as I walked out of the bathroom in my attire for the night.

I smiled at him. "Thanks, babe. Are you ready?"

He walked over to me with a smile, "Now wait a minute, how can we just leave when you look so damn good."

I had to giggle as he wrapped his arms around me, rubbing me up and down. I felt the acrid smell of whiskey reaching my nose. I pushed Drake back with full force, boring my eyes into his.

They were unfocused. Red.

"Have you been drinking?" I asked him.

He tilted his head. "You know I don't like it when you ask me that. I'm not some kind of an addict."

"I didn't mean it that way. I just thought we had an agreement that we weren't drinking tonight-"

"Shhh." He quieted me down, grabbing my ass in his massive palms. "You never said anything about drinking before the party."

"Drake, that's-"

"And, I thought about it, and it sounds stupid. It'll be weird if I don't drink at the party. Your friends will think I'm not mingling."

"That is not what they will think."

He ran his hands up my sides and cupped around my neck. I felt as though he would strangle me for a second. "Then what will they think?"

I stared at him, trying not to show any fear, or God forbid, disgust.

He tangled his fingers in my hair. "Don't worry about it already, you're totally ruining my life."

I think that's the whiskey, asshole.

That was the very last time Drake and I had sex. Thankfully, he never pushed me beyond a certain point for sex – that was one line he never crossed.

I tucked my hair behind my ears and looked into the bathroom mirror. Ken Forrester was in my house, right now. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror and being an epitome of indecisiveness was not going to help me out.

Donning my best poker face, I stepped out into the living room. Ken was seated on the couch, slumping lazily on the back. He had this almost boyish way about him. I went over to him and asked, "Drink?"

He blinked at me and fished out something long and thin from his pocket. "Joint?"

I grinned at him. "Hell yeah."

"Can I light up inside?"

"Please, go ahead," I said, sitting down on the couch.

He stood up. "I don't mind some wine, actually."

"Oh, alright," I said, standing up.

He raised his hands to stop me. "Please, I got it. Tell me where it is?"

"In the fridge," I responded, following him to the kitchen anyway. "Top shelf."

He found the wine while I pulled two glasses out of the cupboard. I felt as though I were performing a charade, my eyes flitting over and over to the smooth lines of Ken 's back under his navy blue shirt. I wanted to spread my fingers across his chest. His eyes met mine, and he fumbled with the bottle, spilling wine all down the front of his shirt.

"Ah, shit!" he exclaimed, pulling his shirt away from his skin. Wine ran down his chest in tiny rivulets, dripping onto the floor. I turned around to grab a few paper towels for him and turned to hand them over.

I froze. He had taken off his soaked shirt, revealing his finely-chiseled chest underneath. His chest heaved as he breathed, and I tried to keep my hormones under control as I stared at the way he patted himself down with a thin paper towel. I imagined biting the taut skin on his shoulder.

"Here, let me," I said as he glanced around for more towels. I pressed one napkin against his chest, slowly running it down to soak up the wine. His abdomen was hard, his breathing quickening infinitesimally as my skin grazed his. When my eyes rose to meet his, he was looking right at me, his green eyes dark with desire, twinkling lusciously, as a small smile dotted the corners of his lips. They look so perfect and soft, I just wanted to crush them against mine and let myself melt into oblivion. It was like they were drawing me in, pulling at me, unyielding...telling me that this was the moment to give in.

In that instant, all my indecisiveness vanished in a puff of smoke. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips against his, my fingers tracing his jawline. He kissed me back, slow and smooth at first, and then his fingers dug themselves into my hair, pulling me closer to him so that every inch of my body was pressed up against his.

Ken 's tongue dipped in and out of my mouth as I kissed him back, ripples of pleasure running down my back as he did so. He moved his mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking on the underside of my ear as I wrapped my right leg around him, arching my back. The hair on my arms stood on their end – the phenomenon seemed to follow wherever his hands touched me.

My hands tangled themselves in his hair, tracing every muscle on his shoulders as hell kissed his way around my neck. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and it made me wet as I slowly ground myself against him, all previous shyness forgotten. His hand reached under my legs and lifted me up so he was carrying me in his arms.