Twisted Addiction Page 2

  While his other hand stroked her hair, he whispered, “I’ve been waiting for this from the moment I first saw you. Let’s get out of here. Come with me.” And she could do nothing but nod. Holding his hand out to hers, they went out to the street where a taxicab stopped for them even before they’d had time to hail for one, as though it had been waiting only for them since the beginning of time.

  To her great relief, he did not ask for her address, but gave the driver the address of a hotel. During the short trip his hand continued to stroke her thighs, a promise of things to come later in the evening. When they entered the lobby, it became clear to her that it was not a room only for the night, it was where he lived.

  Was the client paying for his stay? She mumbled the question while he leaned over her on the bed, whispering softly, “We will have plenty of time for talking. I promise.” He peeled off her dress slowly, deliberately, stirring her senses into a whirlwind. He went on caressing, drawing circles around her bra, her nipples hard under the see-through lace. Choking a sigh, she stroked his strong, muscular back, feeling how her fingers sent shivers of passion through his body, which quivered against her. Suddenly, he stood up for a moment, his eyes pinned on hers, then touched the switch and dimmed the light. He reached over her and without taking his gaze off her, turned on the night light by the bed. He pushed her back lightly and she sprawled comfortably over the silky sheets that smelled of intoxicating cleanliness. Holding the straps of her dress, he pulled on them inch by inch, his eyes fixed on hers, never letting go. Feeling a hypnotizing intensity, she was willing to give herself to him without a second thought.

  “Will you allow me to take it off?” he asked, before undoing her bra. Unable to speak, she just nodded. The bra was gently removed, revealing pink nipples erect from arousal. “And this?” his hands slowly dragged the fabric of her panties down her thighs. She continued to nod. “And is this OK?” he asked, rubbing his erect organ on the downy pubic hair. She moaned as he entered her, slowly and at length, far into her depths.

  ***

  The days that followed that stormy evening flew by and Dalia took to her new situation completely naturally, as if her former life had been only about waiting for a reality that had finally arrived. At the end of each endlessly uneventful workday, she would drop by her apartment, pick up clothes and personal items, and then head for the hotel, where Thomas waited for another night of sensual inebriation. The Thomas of the casual encounters in the hallways of E.G.G. and embarrassed conversations was a fading memory, the short and insignificant introduction chapter in history, as opposed to the very present now. They both lived in a constant state of arousal, their faces glowing with pleasure.

  Thomas kept his promise of dinner and conversation, and she discovered he was brighter than she had thought—and they wished for similar things. She enjoyed the long talks, discussing the view they shared that routine did not allow for the abstract freedom they both longed for.

  “People are so in love with the illusion of control they have over their lives,” Thomas said, “they think they are free. However, they are far from it. They tie themselves up in stupid, mediocre conventions, and so they keep themselves from reaching what they really wish for.” Dalia agreed with him completely. She liked the perspectives of her new boyfriend. It seemed to her he echoed everything she had always felt, including things she had not been able to describe to herself. The bleakness, the feeling of the shell that kept her from hatching: Thomas pronounced the magic words and it disintegrated.

  “Real life doesn’t happen here,” he said to her, “not the real meaning, not the real money, and surely not the real relationships. All this show we put on, people who come to the office in the morning and do nothing there in exchange for a ridiculous salary. All this is only the setting. But you, you are real. Maybe I came here just to meet you.” Once the conversation had moved to her, there was always sex, so she could not know what it was exactly that excited her, the consensus or the anticipation. Either way, she felt more alive than ever. The thrill of those brief moments with Thomas were incomparable to the general lethargy she had experienced with Noah. If the week before Thomas’s kiss had become a pale memory, the last five years of Noah’s courtship had instantly become so insignificant that it didn’t even need to be filed away in the Things-that-Happened folder. She felt Thomas understood her. That perhaps he was the twin soul she had always been searching for. The perfect sexual compatibility between them was proof that they were meant to be together. Advice in women’s magazines and blogs written by relationship therapists, to whose updates Dalia had been subscribed until recently, had warned her more than once against trying to look for the perfect match and soulmate, but rather encouraged investing more in imperfect relationships. She once considered this advice wise. Now she realized that those pearls of wisdom probably came from people who were just unlucky.

  Despite the high standards he was used to, and drawing Dalia into, he never flaunted his money or lived an overly ostentatious lifestyle. She sometimes wondered how a job that did not interest him and seemed like a compulsory nuisance, for a salary that was merely acceptable, even at the higher executive levels, allowed him to afford such lavish comforts. She did not ask again who was paying for his stay at the hotel, a question she perceived as impolite. She assumed it was either the company or the client whose account he managed. That still did not explain the clothes, restaurants, taxis and the rest of the treats adorning his daily routine, apparently devoid of financial worries. On the other hand, it was so easy getting used to, she decided it was none of her business.

  What was her business, and was plaguing her thoughts, was the fact that Thomas had arrived at the advertising agency she worked for, and in the city in general, for a limited period of only two months. What was going to happen after that? Nelly and Katya voiced their own thoughts at the kitchen meetings.

  “So what are you going to do when Thomas goes back home?” Nelly asked.

  Dalia, for whom trivial conversation and office life had become unwanted breaks from the place she truly wanted to be (in bed with Thomas), sent her friend a dreamy look and replied, “We’ll see.”

  “Haven’t you talked about it?” Katya insisted.

  Dalia smiled quietly, prompting Nelly to jump in excitedly, “Yes, you have!”

  They had discussed it.

  A few evenings earlier, lying naked on the soft linen at the hotel, relaxing cozily, Thomas said, “You know that my project is supposed to end a month from now.” She reached her arm to him as though instinctively staking ownership. Thomas sighed. He was silent for a moment before he proposed, “Maybe you’ll come with me?” She ran her fingers in a spider-like motion over his thigh, something he had taught her, and now caused him to moan again. “Nothing is holding you back here,” he continued. “Let’s get away from here together. I’ll help you achieve the life you truly wish for. The office will manage. Katya and Nelly will manage.” Turning on his side, he began to nibble on her ear, whispering once more, “You will come with me, won’t you? You do want to be mine, don’t you?” In her former world, many of the blogs she had read posed the question: Should you turn your life upside down for your man? The answer, obviously, was no. It had all been written by women who didn’t have a Thomas in their lives.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Dalia replied.

  They had not discussed whether to share the details of their private plan with other people. It wasn’t important. And she had a desire to keep the bubble of their romance to herself. It simply wasn’t something that Katya and Nelly would understand. That was why she had said nothing until the subject came up in the kitchen, and even now, she shared it with her friends only grudgingly.

  “He asked me to go with him. I think that’s what I’m going to do. Please do not scream.”

  Katya and Nelly certainly looked like they were about to shriek in predictable delight, public outbursts that Dalia considered too noisy and uncalled for. In her world with Thomas, such displays had become unnecessary, and Dalia was happy to do without them. The deviation from the automatic reaction procedure changed, as one can imagine, the responses of her friends, who pondered the matter for while.

  “Wow, congratulations, I suppose,” Nelly volunteered, embarrassed, “but you’ve only known each other for a month… Are you really planning to leave everything for him?”

  “A month is long enough,” Dalia replied. “I know I want to be with him all the time.” The looks they gave her meant they were still reading blogs about relationships, and she felt pity at the genuine concern they believed they should be showing. “Remember that I’m not like you,” she softened her tone. “I don’t have any family I’m close to and I have no roots here. The office will surely manage without me. It’s not like I was hoping to stay at E.G.G. forever, in any case. To me, this is a means of supporting myself, not a career. I don’t have anything here.” Realizing what she had just said, she hurried to rectify, “That is, I have you guys. I really will miss you. If Thomas lived in the area, I would obviously stay. But I don’t have anything here worth losing Thomas for.”

  That was offensive enough, but bearable.

  “So what are you guys going to do?” Nelly asked.

  “We’ve decided to travel around the world for a few months, and then we’ll see.”

  “Can Thomas afford to not work?”

  “Thomas can do anything,” Dalia replied hazily, and in order not to sound like a woman who was blindly in love, which she definitely was, she added, “he takes on projects for work from home. He can work from anywhere. And we both wanted to travel the world some day, so why not now?”

  “It sounds like a dream,” Katya declared. And Dalia did not deny it.

  “Frankly, it does. Turns out that if one dreams long enough, dreams do come true.”

  ***

  The office a few floors below E.G.G. housed a travel agency. Some time later that week, in one of the lunch breaks, Dalia and Thomas entered the premises holding hands. They sat down by the agent’s desk, weighing various destinations.

  “We’d like to disconnect from the world for a while, and just concentrate on each other,” Thomas explained. “I’m a digital nomad, I can work from anywhere. I’d like to get away from mundane disruptions and just focus on my woman.”

  “Preferably a place with water,” Dalia added. “Water we can swim in.” She could picture herself, skinny dipping in the warm waters of a blue-green lake, in some faraway land, and then emerging slowly, droplets sprinkled on her body, reminding her of a ravishing goddess, running towards Thomas who would be waiting for her, eager to take her into his arms. Her fingers strolled along his knee, sending a current of excitement.

  “In other words, we’re looking for a honeymoon?” the agent asked smiling professionally.

  “Yes, you could say that,” Thomas replied, tightening his grip on her hand.

  No one at the office was really surprised when Dalia submitted her resignation. It must be noted that besides Nelly, Katya, and Noah, no one else truly knew her. She was the young woman who had come from nowhere and began to date the dashing man who was sent to manage a short-term campaign. A modest farewell party was thrown in his honor on his last day at work, which now was also her last day at the office and of her old life. The crowd of employees, toasting to their health with cheap wine in disposable cups, floated around her like an illusion. Dalia, a bit tipsy, remained by Thomas’s side, smiling at the figures wishing her things she heard in a daze. Mostly, she was waiting for all this to be over soon, and real life, which had been powered up enough, would jet ahead. Only later would she notice Noah’s absence, but right at that moment, she was not aware he was not there.

  In retrospect, the writing was on the wall, and in giant graffiti at that. This she would realize only later, when the recent sequence of events fell into place at once. Her resignation. The talk about getting away together. The travel agency in the same building where everyone could see them going in and out of together, their arms around each other. The travel agent, who, if anyone asked, would describe a couple in love looking for distant locations in which to celebrate their passion. The first thought that would pop into her mind in horror in the days to come, would be: Oh God, nobody will be looking for me.

  The Creation of Woman

  So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

  The first thing she saw was the silhouette of a man sitting by a table, his back to her. As the room became sharper, she realized she was bound to a wall, and that someone had handcuffed her while she was unconscious. Her initial instinct was to squirm wildly, to free herself, but the harsh pain she felt turned into fear that her arms would be torn off their sockets. The word cruelty floated above her head like a heavy cloud. She shook her head from side to side to shake off the blurriness. She recognized a king-size bed on one side of the spacious room and an antique four-legged bathtub standing on the other. She sighed. The man spun around. Thomas?! Her heart throbbed with relief and terror.

  Thomas stood up and approached her. He was wearing a light brown shirt and dark brown pants, neither of which had she seen before, with the clean, unfamiliar scent of a detergent that wasn’t from a hotel. How long had she been unconscious? And where were they? He began to stroke her cheeks in circular motions. She opened her mouth to ask—

  Shh, don’t try to talk. Everything’s all right,” he reassured her, kissing her softly on the mouth. The kiss was moist and full of emotion, pleasant as usual. “I’m here. I’m here. It will be OK, soon you’ll understand everything.” He touched her again, running his fingers through her hair, cheeks, neck, then turned away from her, walking past the table towards what seemed, as she was able to tell when her eyes could focus, a kitchen. Taking a glass out of a cupboard, he opened the mini refrigerator and poured water from a jug, which he offered to her, bringing the rim to her lips as though she were ill rather than chained to a wall, and gently helped her to drink.

  Taking a few sips until she felt strong enough to speak, she began to say in what she hoped sounded like a firm tone, “Thomas—” He covered her mouth with the palm of his hand, gently but with determination.

  “Shh, Dalia sweetheart, everything’s OK,” he repeated. “I need you to be quiet now, alright? I’ll explain everything in a little while. I promise.” He laid the glass on the floor at a safe distance from them, increasing the pressure of his hand on her mouth. She tried to resist, but his grip became tighter yet still gentle. She realized with anguish that he had no intention of letting go. She tried screaming, but only muted sounds went through his palm. He waited patiently, caressing her with his other hand. Her body responded to his caress. She needed Thomas to provide her comfort from Thomas. This, Dalia was beginning to comprehend, was going to be a problem. Within minutes, she gave up.

  “It took a few days for us to get here,” Thomas said. “You probably want to know where we are. We are home, Dalia. We are in a place I planned for both of us to be. Do you remember how you wanted to come with me? How you told everyone excitedly about it? How we talked over and over again about why that life wasn’t meant for us? He spoke to her in the tone one would use with a young child one was trying to please. He paused for a moment, as if waiting for her to nod. Seeing no reaction from her side, he remained even-tempered and went on. “Nobody knows where we are. There isn’t a living soul for miles. Everyone knows we were planning to go away together and disappear into isolated places. No one is looking for us, and even if by mistake anyone were, they would be extremely far away and with no means of getting here. So there’s no point in screaming, right? I’m taking my hand down now. Be a good girl.” As he pulled his hand away, Dalia kept silent. He stroked her cheek and praised her softly, “Way to go.” Her body shuddered once more at his soothing touch. The soothing she needed would not be coming from him.

  “You are a woman in handcuffs in a room with a man. We both know what’s going to happen,” he said. “And we both know you like sleeping with me. You must understand that you can enjoy this too.” She made another attempt to speak, but he was quicker, and his hand covered her mouth once again. He left her there, caressing her with his free hand as if she were a trembling rabbit caught in a trap. “This is what we planned. It’ll take you a few days to get used to the idea, and then you’ll see. Superfluous work in that superfluous world. A rat race. That was not for us, was it? We both wanted something different. Something real. This here is the real world. You’ll be mine for a few years. You’ll have to do some cleaning and cooking and help me make lots of money. The rest of the time you’ll acquire an education, as you wished for, perhaps even a new language. You’ll have all the time in the world to devote to your studies, without having to worry about anything. If you behave properly, a few years from now you’ll be too old, and I will no longer be needing you. I am a fair man. Part of the money is yours and will be held in a separate savings account. You’ll leave with a sum you could only have dreamed of and a profession that will allow you to be independent and in demand. And you’ll still be young enough to conquer the world. We will make sure your knowledge is expanded and that you are well taken care of—he ran a finger along her cleavage in order to illustrate what he meant—give it some time. You’ll see it’s the best thing that could have happened to you. Many women would like to change places with you. But I chose you. You are special. And you chose me.”