Godwin was gone when she woke up, but the bed was still warm. What should she do? She snuggled into the covers and assessed her situation. Her arm still hurt, and it itched now, too. She frowned, knowing it would probably take a few days to fully heal, and knowing she would need to feed again, and not from Godwin, to keep it to just a few days and not a whole week.
Godwin was right, they couldn’t just feed from each other. His blood had been charged with power, but she had given half of it back when they had sex.
Oh, god, she had sex with Godwin! She blushed, glad he wasn’t here to see it, curling up into a gleeful ball under the covers, which still smelled like vanilla and desert and male musk. She giggled, her happiness at the change in their relationship overpowering the pain from her makeshift cast.
Her sex ached, too, she realized, though it wasn’t bad, necessarily. Instead, it was a pleasant reminder of their activities the night before. She had never come like that before, and had never come from someone inside of her ever.
Love welled up in her chest, and everything was great. And then she remembered the night before, with Chip. The memory sobered her.
The sound of her phone chirping from somewhere in the dim room distracted her. She followed the sound, picking it up carefully with her good hand. A spiderweb-shatter covered the whole front of her phone and she frowned in disappointment. She hated getting new phones, moving into them and getting used to them. The call was from Olivia.
Carefully, so as not to cut herself on the glass she slid over to green, but she missed answering it. Holding the phone delicately, she called her back. Olivia picked up on the first ring.
“Shit, Seneca!” her best friend swore harshly. “Where are you? Kennedy is going crazy!”
Seneca sat up, forgetting her broken arm for only a second, but it was long enough for to send a bolt of pain through her entire arm as she put her weight on it. She hissed, trying not to scream out with the pain. How did it still hurt so bad?
“What’s going on?” she replied, trying and failing at not sounding strained.
“What’s going on?!” Olivia barked. “Are you serious? Where are you, Seneca?”
“I’m…out,” she hedged.
“Oh my god, Seneca, where are you? Chip called me and Kennedy like ten times last night! I finally answered because I couldn’t stand it anymore. He said you were, oh, god this is…I think he’s lost his mind, but none of us could find you! You wouldn’t answer your phone, and he was being all crazy.” Olivia sounded a little frantic.
“What did he say?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.
“I think you broke him, for reals. He was going on and on, saying you were kidnapped by the devil,” she told her, the disbelief heavy in her voice. “Where are you? What actually happened last night?”
Seneca sighed heavily. “I’m with a friend…” she hedged. “Last night was kinda crazy…”
“You have other friends than me?” Olivia cried out with faked jealousy.
“Well, maybe not that kind of friend…” Seneca admitted.
“OMJesus! You’re with the dark horse! You spent the night!” Seneca could hear the sounds as Olivia covered her mouth with her hand and excitedly whispered the next part. “Are you in his bed right now?!”
“Why are you covering your mouth on the phone, Liv?” she asked instead of answering.
“You are!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled. “You are, you are! OMJesus, Seneca, you hooked up with the dark horse! What was his name…Goodwin?”
Seneca sighed heavily. “Godwin,” she corrected. “I have to go, Liv. I’ll call you later, I promise.”
“No, no, don’t you dare hang up on me!” she snapped. “You need to talk to Kennedy before the 24 hours is up and she files a missing person report. I think she half believed Chip. She’s absolutely terrified, and nothing, I repeat, nothing I say is going to calm her down. Call your mother, Seneca!”
Seneca sighed heavily. Kennedy…shit, she had to call her. She was probably out of her mind with worry. But first, she needed to know what Chip had told them. “What else did Chip say?” she asked carefully, trying to keep her hatred from her voice.
“Why?” Olivia said, and Seneca could hear her eyes narrow.
“Because he was crazy last night,” she replied. She shifted in bed, sitting up with her back against the warm wooden headrest. The room was comfortable but cool enough that she needed the comforter.
“Tell me, Seneca, what happened last night,” Olivia demanded.
“No, you tell me what he said first. I want to know what he thinks happened,” she insisted firmly.
“You’ve…shit, Sen, something bad did happen. You’re getting all stubborn. Fine,” she relented. “Chip called me, said you were abducted by, don’t laugh, said you were taken by a demon. Wings, horns, tail, all of it. Oh, a naked male demon. That the demon just swooped in grabbed you, then both of you disappeared.”
“A demon?” she tried to sound exasperated. “Did he happen to say why he was with me in the first place?” she asked through her teeth. Something touched her gently on the back of her neck and she nearly jumped out of the bed. Nothing was there, though, as she whipped her head around.
“Ah, something about him trying to get you back. He was real vague about it, and after Kennedy got involved it was hard to get him to talk about anything but the devil that took you straight to hell, probably for breaking his heart or something stupid. He’s such a…I hate him, Seneca. That whole ‘I’m a nice guy, why don’t people love me’ bullshit he pulls. He’s so self entitled…gah! Anyway, spill it, tell me about what actually happened,” Olivia demanded.
“I should call Kennedy first,” Seneca reminded her. “You insisted that I needed to call her as soon as possible.” She felt another touch on the back of her neck, firmer this time, trailing down to her collarbone. Godwin was checking on her, she realized, in his own way. Her hand was over his collar before she could stop herself, and she winced as she moved it. Still, she felt better just touching it. He must be close if she could feel his touch without focusing on it.
“Seneca!” Olivia complained. “Unfair!”
“I’ll meet you and we can chat. I need a drink or ten after last night,” she tried to compromise. “I’d rather tell you in person, as my phone is actively shattering in my hand. I’m not even sure how it’s still working, to tell you the truth.”
“Are you okay?” her friend asked, her tone full of concern.
“I am now, but last night was rough. I promise, I’ll fill you in.”
“When?” she demanded stubbornly.
Seneca sighed, shifting so she could lay back down. Godwin’s spectral touch disappeared and she was a little disappointed. “What time is it?” she asked.
“You dog!” Olivia teased her. “Your dark horse kept you up all night!”
“Not exactly,” she replied wryly. “Like I said, last night was rough. But…maybe a little. What time is it?”
“Ah, eleven thirtyish…no, closer to twelve now. You’d better call Kennedy. Can you meet me for dinner tonight?” Olivia pressed on.
“Not tonight, I’ve gotta get my phone fixed. Unless you wanna drive me around…”
“Sold!” Olivia agreed easily. “What time and where?”
“Ah, I dunno, it’s Saturday, right? So…four-ish? I don’t know. Let me get my shit together first. I need to go home and change first.”
“Yeah…about that…please don’t kill the messenger…” Olivia half begged.
“What?” she demanded, instantly nervous.
“So…ah…” her friend hedged.
“Tell me, Liv!”
“Chip broke into your apartment last night. Looking for you.”
“Liv, you have got to be…are you messing with me? Because I am really not in the mood for that kind of joke,” she warned.
“I’m sorry! I told you not to kill the messenger!” Olivia apologized quickly.
“I never told him where I lived, Liv. What do you mean when you say that he broke into my apartment? Like how?”
“He knew, Seneca, me and Kennedy didn’t tell him. And, he picked your lock. It was crazy, he watched this video online and then he did it, like MacGyver style.”
Seneca felt her temper begin to simmer. “You were there?!”
“I was doing damage control, Seneca!” Olivia said defensively. “I’m sorry! Call Kennedy, then call me later. Seneca?”
She sighed, wishing her arm wasn’t broken as she tried to pinch the bridge of her nose and failed. “What, Olivia?” she asked with resignation.
“I’m glad you weren’t kidnapped by a demon and dragged to hell,” she teased.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, smiling through her worry and anger. “Who knows, maybe I’d like it better than being harassed by Chester Gibson.”
“Sure, whatever,” Olivia agreed placatingly. “Call me later, Seneca!”
She hung up the phone. She had thirty seven missed calls and nineteen texts, all from Chip, Kennedy and Olivia. Well, all of those and two texts from Josh of blue satin ribbons with descriptions of where he saw them.
She smelled something good…Chinese food. Her stomach tightened, reminding her she hadn’t even eat dinner the night before. She was so hungry that she was halfway to the door before she realized she was quite naked. She hurried back to the bed, finding her towel from the night before on the floor. It was dry, thankfully, as she tucked it around her torso.
“Godwin?” she called quietly, leaning out from his doorway into the hall. She realized with a start that she needed a bathroom break, too. She remembered where the bathroom was from the night before and headed that way, sneaking around on cat’s paws.
She nearly ran to the bathroom as her need to pee amped up to kidney destroying levels, then continued to pee for a record length of time. Closing her eyes, she focused on Godwin, trying to feel his general location. He was close by, and he was waiting for her.
As she washed her hands she realized how mangled they were from the night before. Her nails were cracked and broken, with dried blood under them. There were half-healed cuts and scrapes all over her hands. She didn’t recognize them as her own, which brought on an onslaught of fresh tears.
Turning the sink to full blast she cried, letting herself sob fully, the terror and stress of the previous night leaking violently from her face.
When the tears subsided, and after figuring out how to wash up with one good hand and one mangled one, she followed the feeling of him until she found herself in his main room.
Godwin sat on the cushions on the floor, Chinese takeout spread in front of him on the small table. “How is your arm, hansa? Are you hungry?” he asked her cautiously. She could tell he was feeling self conscious.
“Arm hurts but it’s healing. I’m starving!” she exclaimed. “What’s on the menu?”
He smiled at her as she almost ran to the table in just his white towel. “Vegetable fried rice, chicken with broccoli, Buddha’s delight and tofu hot and sour soup. I was unsure which meal you might choose, so I procured an assortment. I hope you can find something to your tastes…”
She dug in without hesitation, putting a little bit of everything on top of fried rice on her plate. He handed her a plastic container of soup and she opened it, breathing deeply.
The room was quiet as she focused fully on eating. Godwin watched her, eating as well, but much more slowly than her. She would have felt bad about it any other time, but she was so hungry she couldn’t be bothered.
As she was refilling her plate, she recalled two things. First, she was sitting in a towel in Godwin’s living room, and second, she had to call Kennedy. Her phone was on Godwin’s bed.
“What troubles you?” Godwin asked, putting down his fork.
“I don’t have any clothes, and I need to call Kennedy, my mother,” she explained between bites. “She’s freaking out that I’m ‘missing’.”
“Are the two connected?” he asked, his slappable grin on his face as he teased her.
“No,” she replied, looking away to hide her blush. “Just…both are urgent.”
“I will never tire of making you blush, hansa. Clothing I have procured for you, so I can remedy that problem immediately. I had planned to bring them to you, but I heard you speaking on the telephone and did not wish to disturb or eavesdrop.” He turned and leaned over the cushions to retrieve a large department store paper bag. He handed it to her and she was surprised at how heavy it felt.
“What’s this?” she asked as she looked inside. Several garments were folded in the bottom of the bag.
“I procured some clothing, I believe I have your measurements correct. I am not entirely sure if the styles will be to your liking, though.”
She scrutinized him. “Where did you get these?”
He snorted. “A department store,” he said simply, opening his soup container and taking a spoonful of the thick, yummy smelling dish.
She wanted to ask him where he got money and if he had a job or if he had stolen these items, but thought better of it. He probably wouldn’t tell her, anyway. Instead, she decided to show her gratitude. “Thank you, Godwin. Shit, I really, really owe you, not just for this, but for everything. I…I don’t even know how to begin to repay you. Maybe when I go…shit, I can’t go home…” she trailed off, biting her cheek at the thought that Chip had broken into her apartment. What if he was still there? She couldn’t risk going back.
Godwin’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why are you unable to return to your home?”
She worried the inside of her lip, feeling like teasing him. “Why, are you kicking me out already?” she asked playfully.
He frowned, flustered. “No, no! Of course not, you are welcome here, and you are free to stay as you wish. I never meant to imply you were a nuisance.”
“I was teasing you, Godwin,” she said with a smile. He looked at her, uncertainty in his eyes. “I want…I’m sorry if I pushed you too far last night. I’m not usually like that…” she trailed off, studying the upholstery on the cushions.
“Hansa, you are safe, and you chose my arms. I regret nothing from last night with the exception that I was unable to attend you sooner,” he insisted passionately.
“Sorry,” she said, feeling guilty for the events with Chip, even though she knew they weren’t her fault, or at least totally her fault. It was just easier if she accepted the blame. She knew how to handle that.
Godwin frowned and she didn’t like how it made his face look, and really didn’t like that she was the reason it was there. “Stop,” he demanded firmly. “The fault is in no way yours.”
She felt like she had to explain. “If I had broken it off with Chip before I met you, or maybe if I had stopped after the first date. I let this get out of hand and now-”
“Seneca,” he cut her off, his voice low and serious. “You are not at fault. In no way are Chester Gibson’s actions any of your responsibility. No,” he stopped her as she prepared to interject, “I see what you are planning to say, and I completely disagree. You are innocent, a victim in this, and you will not convince me otherwise.”
She shifted, uncomfortable at the truth in his words, yet unable to believe them even though they rang true. She realized she was still naked, then grabbed the bag and ran towards his room, using the excuse to escape from his harsh realities.
Her phone stared at her, accusing and broken, and her guilt doubled. She picked it up carefully, still holding the bag of clothing, then juggled both until she realized she could just put the bag down. Her brain wasn’t working right today.
“Seneca, oh my girl, where are you? Are you okay?” Kennedy cried. The phone had only rung once.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I…” she didn’t know what to say.
“Where are you, Seneca?” her mother repeated, her voice full of worry. “Chip insisted you were abducted by a demon. My heart, Seneca, I’m not as young as I used to be. Please, tell me you’re fine. Where are you? I need to see you, need to know you’re okay.”
“Kennedy, I’m fine. I promise. Well, almost fine. Chip broke my arm last night. But I’m okay, everything is-”
“He WHAT?!” Kennedy yelled, the raw emotion in her voice making Seneca shiver. “That son of a bitch broke your arm?! And he had the gall to tell me you were kidnapped! Where are you hiding? Let me come pick you up. How’s your arm? Do you need blood? Is your lust close?”
“You know, I want to clarify something. I was not kidnapped by the demon last night. I was kidnapped by Chip. He tied me up and…I was saved by one, not kidnapped,” she declared. She wasn’t sure if now was a good time to introduce Godwin to her mother, but she knew it would just get harder if she didn’t do it now.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. After a few of her deep breaths, Kennedy finally replied. “There was a demon last night?”
She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. As if he knew they were talking about him, Godwin came into the room, nearly silently. Their eyes locked for a moment. “Hold on Kennedy, just a second,” she said, pulling the phone away from her ear. She could hear Kennedy’s protests for her not to go anywhere but she hit the mute button anyway.
“Hansa?” Godwin asked her, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Can I tell her about you?” she asked him, biting the inside of her cheek. “Chip told them all about you, he saw you last night, Win.” She bit down harder, embarrassed that she had given him a nickname in the spur of the moment, worried that he would hate it.
He smiled at her use of a nickname for him and her heart relaxed. “Win?” he teased.
“I’m sorry!” she apologized quickly. “I-”
“No one has ever given me a nickname. I like it,” he soothed.
“Olivia calls you the dark horse,” she said softly, studying the carpet.
He chuckled. “Does she now? That seems suitably appropriate,” he replied with amusement. “What are you going to tell your mother? And why do you call her Kennedy? Most do not call their mother by name.”
“She’s my adopted mother, and she insisted I never had to call her ‘mom’ if I didn’t want to, you know, because of…ah…” she trailed off, not ready to tell him of her rocky past.
He nodded, seemingly understanding her hesitation. “Very well. You make the call on who to tell of my nature and we will navigate the outcome together. Perhaps you should tell her in person, though”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” she said as she pulled the phone back up. “I mean it, for everything,” she insisted.
Godwin smiled warmly as she returned her attention to the phone. He kneeled on the floor next to the bag, digging around the contents.
Seneca returned her attention to her mother. “Kennedy?” she asked, taking the phone off mute.
“Seneca, my heart! You’re going to give me a heart attack!” she grumped.
“Hey, I’m coming over. I have some stuff to tell you,” she said, ignoring the heart attack comment. “Are you home?”
“No, I’m not, but I can be. How long ‘til you’re there? You’re arm’s broke, how you getting here? I’ll come pick you up. Do you need blood?” Kennedy fretted.
“Too many questions!” she exclaimed. “Yes, arm’s broke, yes I need blood, I’ll take the train.”
“No, let me come get you, Seneca. Give me an address!” Kennedy insisted.
She thought about arguing, but she recognized the tone in Kennedy’s voice. She was not going to relent. “Fine, I’m…” She hit mute again and turned to Godwin, who was laying clothing out on the dresser. “Where should I have her pick me up? She wants to come get me and I’m not gonna be able to convince her otherwise,” she whispered loudly.
He gave her an intersection two blocks from his place. “Tell her to pick you up there,” he insisted.
“I’ll be there in…twenty two minutes. Please, Seneca, wait for me,” Kennedy insisted, her voice thick with worry. “I’ll call Grant, have him meet us at the house. I love you, Seneca.”
“I love you, too, Kennedy. Thank you,” Seneca insisted, emotion welling up in her chest.
She hung up, forcing her tears back. Godwin was leaning heavily against the dresser, favoring his left side. When she looked up at him he perked up, trying to look as if he wasn’t in pain, but she could tell his left side was bothering him.
“Are you okay?” she asked him, moving to stand by him and give him support.
He looked away from her, “I’m fine,” he said gruffly. “I came to assist you in dressing. I would also like to look at your arm again, clean it and re-wrap it.”
“Your leg looks-”
“I’m fine,” he insisted harshly. She cringed, hating that he was closing himself off to her again. “Do you approve of this clothing?” he asked her, changing the subject. He nodded to the garments laid out on the dresser. A simple green sweater, a matching set of black undergarments, and a soft brown full-length cotton skirt were laid out for her scrutiny. All of it looked soft and comfortable, and easy to put on and remove with just one hand. No zippers, buttons or anything else that would require both hands, with the exception of the bra.
“This looks great, really,” she insisted, trying to sound as appreciative as she felt. She placed her phone down and grabbed the underwear, already bending down to pull them on. Godwin had cut all the tags, she noticed. “How much do I owe you for the clothing?” she asked him as she turned away from him, wiggling the panties up her legs.
She could feel his eyes on her backside and wasn’t sure that turning away from him had been as effective as she thought it would. “Nothing,” he responded softly. “These are a gift for you. I find I enjoy the idea of dressing you.”
“No, I have to pay you back. I saw how much clothing you had in that bag! It had to be expensive,” she insisted, only feeling slightly guilty as she tried to suss out if he paid or charmed these clothes from the store.
“Money is not an issue for me,” he said instead of addressing her concerns. “Let me assist with your brassier,” he said. His fingers danced under her towel and it slid down her body before she could catch it.
“Godwin!” she exclaimed, covering herself with her cast.
He chuckled with amusement. “I have seen you already, there is no need to be shy now.”
“Still!” she insisted, curling forward to hide her breasts.
His fingers trailed down her spine and she shivered. “Do not hide your beauty from me,” he murmured into her ear. Her bra slid around her body and he pushed her arm away. “Let me dress you,” he said, a tiny bit of command in his voice. He traced his collar and a traitorous moan escaped her before she could tamper it.
Her face burned but she relented and he slid the bra over her bosom and fastened it in place. He slid the sweater carefully over her broken arm first, then stretched it over her head and other arm. She went to grab the skirt off of the dresser but he snatched it, a ripple of pain crossing his face so fast she almost missed it. Guilt flooded her heart.
“What?” she asked him, looking at the skirt in his hand.
He looked her over, his spectral touch grazing her body where his eyes skated. “I prefer to admire your form for a moment before we make you fully presentable,” he said.
“Why?” she asked. “I’m nothing special. I’m chubby and…frumpy.” She frowned, what little self confidence she had wilting.
“That could never be true, hansa. You are…I can tell you won’t hear any of my compliments now.” He sighed heavily, handed her the skirt. “Let me see your arm.”
Dreadfully Erotic 