The Plan Ch. 11

Clarissa drove him to the walk-in clinic where they told the triage nurse a white lie about him slipping in the tub. She sat with him in the waiting room and held his hand while they stitched him up and diagnosed him with a mild concussion. Then she dropped him off at the paperback book exchange while she went to the gym to work out.

He had always loved bookstores and this paperback exchange was one of his favorites. It was out of the way and mostly silent and the warm afternoon air was stirred by couple of lazy fans. The quiet, calm atmosphere always settled his nerves and made him feel secure. Although his freshly stitched check throbbed, he began to feel better inside. The shame and guilt were mostly gone and he wasn't so emotionally raw and exhausted anymore. Being in a bookstore was one of his comfort zones, a place he really felt he belonged and could escape to. He breathed easier, let his hand trail over the spines of a few books and let in the smell of old paper backs carry his mind away.

He hadn't been popular as a child. With few friends he mostly kept to himself. High school had been a four-year ordeal for him with daily taunts, degradations and regular beatings from other kids. His interests and habits made him an object of ridicule for his peers and he hadn't enjoyed his time there. His parents had told him that it was his fault for being different and that he could fix it if he wanted to, so he quit complaining to them. He learned to fear people, especially large groups and longed for a place to escape. It turned out that place to escape to was books.

To cope with the daily rejection and ridicule he had buried himself in his studies and there he discovered his love of books. The books took him to other places where he wasn't small and scared all the time. In those books he found friends, and heroes and worlds to explore and he found those books in bookstores, so it was only natural that bookstores were among his favorite places on earth.

The books went with him to college and in college he had discovered another love: Rugby. Rugby demanded toughness and discipline and he threw himself into it with passion. For the first time in his life, he felt a part of something and that was motivation to endure the physical stress. It was through Rugby that the angry part of himself, the Beast, found healthy expression and discipline. It gave him a constructive place to put his rage. As his physical size increased people left him alone for the most part. Instead of an object of ridicule he became the "weird guy" in the dormitory that people didn't mess with, but also didn't hang out with. That suited him fine. He didn't want much to do with them either.

During his college years he had discovered two things about himself. He was smart and he was unabashedly an independent individual ready and willing to buck every trend. Those two traits had combined to make him a success after college, and with that success he suddenly went from "weird guy" to "attractive" to others. He still mistrusted and disliked people and it was disorientating for them to want to be around him. Still, he could retreat into his books and stoically deal with the crowd of sycophants success had brought. Yet inside he was still that scared little nerd from high school who just craved acceptance or solitude. Only now he was physically strong and intimidating and he was determined to keep himself safe from the damage others could do. For that reason, he had kept everyone at arm's length.

And then Clarissa showed up.

It took a special someone with a caring and discerning heart, someone like Clarissa, to see who he was and treat him with the gentleness and kindness he craved while she gently guided him towards a deeper understanding of himself; guided him towards healing. She knew him and he trusted her with that knowledge. She knew the man and she knew the man contained the Beast and the Beast protected the man. She understood that someday, since Rugby was gone with his repeated knee injuries, the Beast would need another form of expression. She loved him enough to direct him toward that expression. Her love for him included the knowledge that one day she would have to face off with the Beast and earn his trust. Throughout their dating and their subsequent marriage, she had been gentle in her dealings with him. While part of her was eager to have this confrontation, she knew he wasn't ready, so she had been gentle and told him they would deal with the Beast later.

The plan had not been conceived with that confrontation in mind. It was really about making her sexual fantasies come true, and a way to express her submissive side for her birthday. Her miscalculation had been to not completely understand that the man and the Beast were at best uneasy allies and both still not quite reconciled to each other. Now that she knew, he knew she would be more careful with him. Because of that he knew she loved him and that was a great comfort to him as well.

And because she knew him, she was also right in that she knew how to "make this all better" and that's why she brought him here and left him alone to recover himself. That thought of her brought a little smile to his face.

He roamed around a bit and eventually found himself in the science fiction aisle. He'd loved science fiction as a kid and he kept reading it as an adult. Once a nerd, always a nerd he always said. Only now he wasn't ashamed of it. He pulled a book off the shelf and began to thumb through it.

"Excuse me,"

He looked up from his book and she was standing there next to him, wearing black leggings and a baggy gray sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back into a curly black pony tail and her large milk chocolate eyes met his unflinchingly. Long black lashes that framed her eyes fluttered a bit.

"I need to get by," she whispered.

"Certainly."

She slid past him, gracefully swaying her hips and backside into him as she did. Her ass, neatly outlined by the black leggings, brushed suggestively against his groin and her melted milk chocolate eyes half closed knowingly. The sweatshirt bagged open at the front as she leaned passed him and he caught a flash of her uncovered breasts. The scent of spring flowers and soap trailed lazily in the summer afternoon behind her.

Once she was passed him, she fixed him with a hooded gaze that inspected his body. His gym shorts and a tee shirt show cased his muscled arms and legs. Playfully she placed a gentle hand on his biceps and her mouth made a pretty red "O" of appreciation.

"Thank you," she whispered with a slow, long-lashed wink of her left eye.

He nodded and after she looked around quickly, she grew bolder and pressed against him so he felt her erect nipples. Then she stood up on her toes, gently rubbing her soft body against his, to whisper hotly in his ear.

"I just love stories, Mister." Her voice tickled seductively in his ear.

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him from under her black bangs with big puppy eyes. An invitation twinkled in the corners outlined by black eyeliner.

"Come with me and tell me a story."

There was a little pin prick of fear in his heart, but a reassuring look from her stilled it. She loved him and he trusted her.

"Yes, ma'am."