When Karma Comes To Call (9 page)

***

Karma

I roll out of bed and ease away from Arsen. Waking up with him in my bed makes me happier than it should.
This can’t last, don’t get attached.
I’ve been let down enough to know, investing in things is asking to be hurt. I slip on an oversized T-shirt and head to the back to collect his clothing. The sex was mind blowing, but I expected that. Our chemistry is off the charts.
I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, and keep my feelings to myself.
Arsen gets to me. When he tells me I’m his and gets possessive, I want to beg him to keep me forever. I spent a lifetime feeling like I wasn’t important or good enough, and this man offers me a place at his side and makes me feel like I belong.
Maybe I could.

Angry with myself for going there, I step outside and let the heat melt away my thoughts. Collecting his clothes, I fold them neatly, and place them on top of my dresser. In need of distraction, I start breakfast.

“Not that I’ll ever turn down your cooking, but I want you in the bed when I wake up,” Arsen says.

“One night and you’ve gotten damn comfortable.” 

“Did you not understand how this was going to go?” he asks.

I flip the omelet and turn to him. “What are you talking about?”

When he stalks over I can’t help but feel like prey. He presses our hips together, reaches around me, and turns off the heat. Lifting me up, he places me on the counter. “Spread your legs.” I keep my legs closed out of spite. He grips my knees and pries them apart. “I’ve already been inside, baby. I’m not going to let you freeze me out now. You think last night was a one-time thing?”

I bite my bottom lip and refuse to answer.

“Look at me.” His raspy tone demands to be answered.

“I don’t know what I think,” I say lamely.

“Well let me tell you my intentions, so there’s no confusion. You’re mine and eventually I want everyone to know it. That means one day I’ll put my vest on your back and my mark on your body.”

“Why?”

“I want anyone who comes into contact with you to understand you have a man who’ll fuck them up if they come at you wrong.”

“This sounds serious,” I say lowering my voice.

“It is. It’s our version of a wedding ring, only this shit has no easy way out,” he says.

“Don’t you think it’s soon?” My voice is still pitched low.

“We don’t need to go pick out tattoos today, but I need to know you’re ready to get there. I know what I want and you’re not the type of woman I can ease into anything with ’cause it’ll get someone killed.”

I snicker.

“You see me smiling, babe? I’ll trial run this with you, because once you’re wearing my mark, I won’t give a shit if you change your mind. You’ll be mine for good.”

I love the idea. I want to tell him yes, and latch on to him, but I can’t bring myself to trust him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to resist and shut him down.
Hurt them before they hurt you.
But the smallest part of me that still holds on to hope, won’t let me.

“Can we try it?” I ask.

“I’ll give you a month to ride this out. Then it’s a yes or a no.”

“Fair enough,” I say.

“What are you worried about?” he asks.

“You changing your mind.” The words are out before I can stop them.

“That’s never going to happen. If you knew …” He shakes his head.

“What?”

“You still have your secrets and I have mine. Maybe this month we should decide if we’re willing to share them. It’s all or nothing with an old lady. We both know you’re not the type for nothing.”

Thirty days and I’d have to make up my mind.

“Deal,” I say.

He studies me through the narrow slits of his eyes. He has an uncanny ability to see through me. It makes me uncomfortable. I’m accustomed to hiding behind a mask of indifference. I’m many things with Arsen, but unaffected will never be one of them.

“Fuck breakfast.”

“What?” I blink owlishly.

He sinks to his knees beside me and spreads my leg. I grip his shoulders to keep from falling. “This is the only thing I want to eat right now.” His hot breath on my skin makes me shudder. I’m wet and tongue tied as he pushes aside my panties and licks my slit. “So fucking sweet and wet for me.” He flicks my clit and I bury my fingers in his hair. “That’s right, girl, hold on.” I can’t think. His tongue is talented, and the hungry noises have me weak in the knees. I lean back against the stove for support as he owns my pussy. He pauses and I whimper. “Whose pussy is this, Karma?”

“Yours,” I rasp.

He flicks my swollen bundle of nerves.

My thighs jerk. I gasp. “Arsen.”

“Say it louder.” His gravelly growl has me ready to complete any task he hands over.

“Yours, Slayer. It’s all yours.”

“Damn straight it is.” He thrust two fingers inside of me and sucks on my clit. I tilt my head back and scream as my orgasm crashes over me. No man has been able to bring me this much pleasure. He’s an observant bastard. He studied me like a subject over the past month, and now all his research is paying off. He knows my body as well as I do. Still spinning, I scream when he crooks his fingers and hits that spot that makes me see stars. My body quakes, and I release a fresh gush of liquid that he laps up greedily. I never knew I could squirt until this man. He undoes me so thoroughly, I know even if I walk, I’ll never be complete again without him. The realization and his clever finger work send me sailing over the edge fast on the heels of my last release. The world recedes and I hang on to him for dear life.

“I got you, girl,” his raspy voice murmurs. I feel my body lifted into strong arms. Can you have an orgasm hangover?

He laughs. I can hear the smugness. I’d roll my eyes if I had the energy. I pry my heavy lids open and find us moving into the bathroom. He places me on the toilet seat and moves to start the shower.

“I got you dirty, so it’s only fair I clean you off.”

His aftercare is another nail in the coffin that houses my resistance. I never expected this from him.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

He glances at me and raises an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“Being sweet.”

He laughs. “That what you think this is? I’m taking care of you. There’s more than blowing the top of your head off with orgasms.”

I look away, embarrassed.

“You been fucking with the wrong men, but that’s okay. It’ll make it easier to forget them.”

His words make my heart race. If only he could take away the pain of everything before him.

“Stand up.”

I do as I’m told and help him strip me down. There’s something almost poetic in the revealing. He’s peeling back my layers and forcing me to show the damaged woman inside.

“Tell me something no one knows,” I say quietly.

He turns to me and pauses. A thoughtful expression appears on his face. “I like watching Saturday morning cartoons.”

I laugh. “What?”

“I like to watch Saturday morning cartoons with a big bowl of cereal.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” I tease.

“Hell no! No matter how old I get, that shit’s still hilarious.” He grins and it changes his harsh features into something breathtaking. I hadn’t even noticed he had a dimple before. Suddenly, he slaps my ass and I moan.

“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Only with you.” 

He growls. “Get in the shower before I end up inside of you again.”

The images he conjures make me whimper.

He chuckles. “Get your fine ass in the shower.” I step inside and tilt my head down, enjoying the warm spray. This man is an enigma. Buried deep beneath his rough exterior is a man I could easily love. He steps in and begins to soap me up with a gentle touch most wouldn’t believe him capable of. We step out of the shower and I know our foundation has shifted.

***

I slip from the bed, wiggling to escape Arsen’s steely grip. I’ve got the familiar brain itch. I pause at the end of my bed to grab the oversized shirt, and inhale deeply. I love the way Arsen smells. Something inside of me softens further, and I know I’m already in over my head. No one’s gotten to me like this in years. I hold the neckline over my nose and pad out of the room to the small room I have set up. Entering the room, I turn on the light and let the peace of the space wash over me. With its Robin Egg blue walls, inspirational posters, and an assortment of small instruments, it’s a haven. The scent of roses drifts up and wraps around me like a hug from my mentor. Billie always smelled like roses, and so I’ve adopted the scent as a constant reminder. I believe people live on through us in our memories, and our hearts. Their footprints on the world don’t disappear simply because they’ve moved on to the next level of consciousness.

I run my fingers over the keyboard and hum notes to a tune rapidly forming in my head. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this inspired. For me it’s been an uphill struggle. Not to stay clean, but to face the core issues that made me turn toward the drugs in the first place. No one likes to hold their flaws up to the light and examine them. My coping mechanism was to keep busy. If you never stop running, the past can’t catch you—but no one can be in constant motion, and when it gets you it engulfs you like Jaws. You’re caught up and sliced by jagged teeth, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself bleeding out. I glance down at my wrist and trace vertically down the vein. At my lowest, I remember contemplating taking my life, if only to not end up like my mother. I loved her, but she was so weak. After years of being manipulated, abused, and dehumanized, I could understand why. It still didn’t stop my anger. Emotions are illogical things that will fuck your world up if you let them.

For the millionth time I wonder what first drew my mother to my father. Did they start off happy? Or was she too scared to do anything other than go along with him? He was an imposing man, large, with a booming voice, and a personality that made the most brash take a step back.
Like Arsen.
The hateful voice in my mind makes me cringe. The two couldn’t be more different. There was no love lost between my father and anyone I’d ever met. While Arsen didn’t deliver flowery speeches, he showed he cared with his actions, and not just to me.
I bet she explained it away at first, too.
I shake my head, clearing it, and refocus on the fluttering happening in my belly as I think of the man sleeping in my bed. This may go south. We might crash and burn or grow sick of one another someday. It’s a risk you take when you commit. But I can’t see him not being worth it.

I grab the black earphones with skulls, place them over my ears, and plug into the keyboard. Closing my eyes I play chords, rearranging and testing combinations until I find one that feels right. I sing softly to myself. The words spill from my lips and some of the ever present anger dissipates from the pit of my belly where it likes to lurk. My eyes burn and I close my eyes against the tears. I’ve never written a piece like this before. It’s almost too personal. I’m baring my battered soul. I want to stop, but the catalyst that set things into motion overrules me. I need this and I’m going to let it happen. ’Cause when I block things up, eventually I explode. By the time I finish, I have a tribute to my mother and a little more peace. I swipe my eyes with the back of my hand and take a shaky breath. My face feels like it’s on fire, along with my eyes and my heart is battering against my bones. The hairs on my arm and the back of my neck are standing on end. Whatever just occurred was more than a writing session. I glance up and find Arsen leaning in the doorway.

“You all right?” he asks.

I nod, unable to speak.

He frowns. “Is this one of those woman things? You cry when you’re happy?”

I laugh and clear my throat. “Yeah, something like that.” The notebook I’ve scribbled on is littered in tear drops.

“You got something to tell me?” 

“No, this wasn’t about you,” I say, meeting his penetrating gaze. “Just thinking about my mom. I’m good now. Got a song out of it. At least my childhood gave me something.“

He snorts. “Know the feeling. What I tell you about waking up alone?” 

“Had to get it out.” I tap the pen to the notebook paper. “If I wait I’ll lose it and then I can’t make you money.”

“That shit’s for the club. I take care of you, not the other way around.”

The fire in his eyes makes me wet. I never thought I’d be the type to get weak in the knees over traditional gender roles, but damn do I like how passionate and masculine he is.

“Is that right?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

“You need me to remind you?”

“Maybe,” I tease.

He steps forward and I spread my legs to allow him to stand closer. He grips the back of my hair and my neck tilts as I peer up at him. His eyes are intense. “I take care of it.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Arsen.”

“Yes you do, babe.” He smirks.

“I was doing just fine before you.”