Monday, September 3, 2012

Ch129 Never Happened

Violet timidly came out of the bathroom and started, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted Victor—thankfully fully dressed—and sitting on the bed, leaning casually against the pillows and flicking through the channels on the TV.

“I was wondering if you’d ever come out,” he said smiling at her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hog it.”

“No worries,” he said, looking from her newly done hair down to her pretty barefoot toes. “You look fresh as a daisy.”

“Um…thank you,” she said, noticing only just then how incredibly small and intimate this room truly was.

“Come here,” he said, wearing a sexy sort of smile and holding out his hand to her, the very same hand which had only just recently been in full possession of her breast.

A shiver ran up her spine just thinking about it. “Shouldn’t… uh, shouldn’t we get going?”

Victor stared at her frowning slightly. He could tell she was nervous. No doubt it was about last night. He wondered how to ask her about it without embarrassing her. Well, that would be impossible!

 “We have time. I just heard on the news, the roads are not all cleared yet. Downed trees everywhere. Flooded roads. Half a million people without electricity. It’s a mess,” he said, patting the bed next to him.  “Come sit with me, Violet. We should talk.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. Yes, they did need to talk, but she would rather it wasn’t in such close proximity.

“Um…couldn’t we…uh…get some breakfast first?” she said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“Violet, what’s wrong?”

“I…I didn’t say anything was wrong,” she said, bending down to pick up her shoes. 

“You didn’t have to. I can see for myself that you’re upset and I want to know why.”

“These are still wet,” she mumbled. She then went back to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and stuffed it inside the shoe. She turned to return to the room, but there was Victor blocking the doorway.

“Want to use the bathroom?” she nervously said.

“No, I want to know why you’re all jumpy,” he said.

“I’m not,” she retorted trying to move passed him without touching him…. talk about impossible… “Can I come out or are you going to keep me here?”

“If I thought it would improve your mood I would keep you here, but that’s obviously not the case,” he said, moving aside and allowing her to pass.

“I’m fine except I’m going to be late for work if we don’t leave soon. When do you think we can go?”

“I already called Walter and explained we weren’t going to…”

“You didn’t!” she shrieked.

He stared at her frowning. “Didn’t what?”

“What did you tell him?” she anxiously asked.

“That we got stuck in the storm last night.”

“Is that it?”

“What else was I supposed to tell him?” he said. “What is wrong, Violet?”

She walked away from him--as far as she could get—and sat on the solitary chair in the room by the windows, still holding her shoe with the towel stuck inside it.


“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she pleaded, her eyes suddenly over bright.

“Tell anyone what exactly?” he replied cautiously, approaching her, but stopping short at the expression on her face.

Frantically casting fearful glances about the room, she looked like a mouse trapped in a room with ten cats.

“You…you can’t…you won’t…you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and studied her expressive face, his chin resting on his folded hands. This was getting very interesting. Would she actually admit what she did the night before?

“Exactly what are we talking about?” he asked, slowly and carefully.

“That we shared a room,” she whispered—who she feared hearing her was anyone’s guess. “That… that we shared a bed and…”

“And?” he asked, hoping and praying she would finally say it, once and for all, and stop with all this double speak. He got enough of that in court!

“I…I don’t know how it happened, but…I wasn’t…I must have gotten hot in the night…”

“You certainly did,” he mumbled.


“Yes, you’re right. The room became stuffy and hot. Continue,” he said impatiently.

“I… but I…I wasn’t wearing anything when I woke up and you…you had your arm around... me. You were…very close to me and…” She stopped to bite her lip, her cheeks rosy now.

Hanging on the edge of his seat, leaning forward until he could touch her, he waited. “Continue,” he said, almost breathless.

“You didn’t… take advantage of me, did you?” she squeaked.

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

After glaring at her for what seemed an eternity, he looked down at his hands, then cleared his throat. “Do you think me capable of that?”

“You’re a man, aren’t you?” she blurted. She regretted the words as soon as she saw the expression on his face. “I don’t mean that you would on purpose, but in your sleep…”

“In my sleep? You actually think I would seduce you in my sleep?” he said, thoroughly stunned. This was utterly ridiculous. He would have laughed if it wasn’t for the serious look on her face. She truly didn’t remember a thing. That was apparent. He, on the other hand, recalled quite well who did the seducing last night. 

“And what? You would sleep through it? Well, you obviously don’t have much confidence in my powers of seduction or my sexual abilities if you can sleep through it!” he shouted.

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. “I didn’t think of that,” she muttered to herself.

“Didn’t think of what?”

“That I would know if, that I would feel it if…if we did anything,” she said, her cheeks now ruby colored.

He burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.

“Don’t laugh at me! It’s just not proper and…”

“Violet, you’ve been reading entirely too many gothic novels.”

“I do not!”

“You do and this isn’t the fourteenth, eighteenth or even the twentieth century anymore-- no matter what Biden says,” Victor derisively said. “No one’s putting a scarlet letter on your chest for what we did last night.”

“But we…we didn’t do anything. Please, Victor, you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“And whose business is it what we do? Violet, you can't…”

“There’s no use saying it. I know you think I shouldn’t, but I do care what people think and say about me. Please, Victor,” she said, tears spilling over. 

Victor sighed, grabbed the shoe out of her hands and tossed it aside. He then scooped her off the chair and cradled her on his lap, holding her close.

“What am I going to do with you?” he muttered into her lavender scented hair.

“Please, don’t tell anyone we shared a room, Victor,” she whispered in his ear, her whole body trembling. 

"You know I won't," he assured.

 “Cuz no one will believe we didn’t do something more than just sleep.”

"No, they wouldn’t," he replied, holding her close. 

Even Victor was starting to believe it never happened.

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