Wow, I'm almost at 100 reviews, thank you all sooo much your reviews really make my day! Well yeah that last chapter was crazy huh? Now lets see what happens! Enjoy!

Rated M - Yeah there's a lemon or my version of one which is probably not very good! Anywho you have been warned!

Disclaimer - I own none of it, not Degrassi, not Mutiny Below by Ludo (which is even funnier because they got their name from the movie Labrynth which is what I'm making my kids (my son, neice and 2 nephews) watch right now! Best movie EVER!) So ya don't own that or There's a Fine, Fine Line by the creators of Avenue Q. PEACE!


XII

I awake early the next day to the sound of Eli singing in the shower. He's singing Billy Joel's "You May Be Right." He sings off-key, but I rather enjoy the sound of his voice coming from my bathroom. I feel exhilarated. Overjoyed, it's amazing what sex can do to you. I wrap myself in the duvet, which smells of him. I am so happy it's indescribable.

Last night was incredible. As soon as we entered the apartment, we clawed at each other until we landed on the futon. I surrendered to his soft kisses and indulgent touch. He was so gentle. A man has never been that gentle to me before. And when he was inside of me! The second he entered me we sort of gasped with pleasure at the same time. His hips rocked back and forth as his big, beautiful cock buried deep into me. His thrusts were passionate and exquisite—nice and slow. He pulled halfway out; lingered there as he showered me with kisses, and then reentered me with urgency so delectable I had to stop myself from coming. "Clare," he barely whispered in my ear. "Oh, Clare."

I, on the other hand, was not quite so gentle. I devoured him like a starving child at a buffet table, whereas he treated me like something that ought to be handled with utmost delicacy. His thrusts became unpredictable as he quickened his pace—they went from shallow to deep. His new speed turned me into a caged animal that had finally escaped to freedom. I pushed him off me and straddled his hips as I positioned myself on top of him. It was with his magical tie that I tied him up—his hands bound together on the headboard. And that was how I rode him. He didn't protest as he watched me become all the more aggressive. As I moved up and down on him, feeling the tickle of Eli's kisses on my ample breasts, the frustration I'd had for weeks had finally unraveled. I was so caught up in the moment that I came almost without noticing.

Before I could collect myself, Eli positioned me in all fours. He made love to me for the second time, his moves varying from tender and considerate to brazen and grave. He spoke soothing words to me and kissed the back of my neck and caressed my breasts. He asked if I was okay. I said yes. I almost felt ashamed of the way I'd ridden him a few minutes ago.

I came four times last night.

After sex—or should I say lovemaking—we watched TV for a while, and made jokes. Conveniently I had gone grocery shopping the day before so, I made us bacon sandwiches and washed them down with cold soda as we watched Nick at Nite reruns. I told him that he could spend the night here if he wanted to. And he did.

We slept together—literally. Actually, he slept. I watched him curled around me as he breathed warm air against my neck. It was nice. I dreaded the thought of him leaving. I felt like tying him up on my bed again. He's mine, I thought. He's my property.

I come to when I hear Eli getting dressed in the bathroom. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. I don't want to make things awkward for us. The morning after is always awkward, and I try to reduce the awkwardness by pretending to sleep. I can hear him putting on his pants, his shirt, his shoes and his jacket. He walks up to me and kisses me softly on the lips.

"Clare?" he whispers as he shakes me lightly. "Last night was wonderful, Clare," he murmurs into my ear. "See you later, okay?"

I do nothing. I just pretend to sleep.

I finally hear him leave.

I must have fallen asleep right after he left because I awake two hours later to the sound of the alarm clock. It's nine a.m. I can't believe he's gone. I shouldn't have closed my eyes. I shouldn't have pretended to sleep. Now I wish I had made him coffee or something. Actually, to be honest, I am glad I had made things less uncomfortable for us. It was for the best.

But what if—oh horror of horrors—he regrets having slept with me? What if he wants no part of me? What if I walk into the office and he ignores me or treats me with cold indifference? Oh, God, I can't believe what I've done. He's going to ignore me—I just know it! In fact, I'm sure he'll act as though nothing's happened between us, that I am simply his assistant, which, unfortunately, is true. I'm just one of twenty, how many of his assistances has he slept with? Oh god, I wish I hadn't slept with him. I am a weak woman. I am a weak, meek and pathetically horny woman who can't control her animal urges.

Shit! I have to go to work in an hour. God only knows what Eli's going to say once I'm there. He'll probably gaze blankly at me and say, "Hiya, Clare! Great sex last night! Could you make me a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese for me? And why don't you call Mila Kunis for me and tell her that I'm up for a bit of fun tonight. You know, the sort of fun you and I had last night!" The thought of it makes me cringe. But I have to face the music, I mean, he is my boss, and I can't miss work today. I'm going to work. I have no other choice.

Eli is talking on his cell phone in the main room. I walk straight to the office and sit on the leather couch. I feel tensed and nauseated. Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead.

"Good morning, Clare," says Eli, entering the office. My heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

"Good morning," I say in a monotone as I get up to make coffee, feigning casualness.

He walks up to me and kisses me on the cheek. He seems animated and has a blissful expression on his face. "You're looking particularly fetching today," he says, eyeing my sensible floral dress and strappy sandals.

"Want some coffee?" I ask, ignoring his flirtatious tone.

"Sure."

As I pour coffee into two mugs, he puts his arms around my waist and presses his lips to the crown of my head. His breathing is steady and warm. I feel as though a sharp needle is slowly piercing through my skin. I close my eyes for a moment. As we embrace, I think of what Eli told me on the day Bianca—the woman he had a brief liaison with just days before he slept with me—left for Paris. He told me about the arrangements he makes with women. Is that what this is? And if that's what it is, why hasn't he told me? The whole dynamic between us is wrong—I sense that something strange is going on here, but I can't put my finger on it.

"I had a wonderful time last night," he murmurs. "You were insatiable, can't wait to do it again."

Abruptly, I pull away. "Leave me alone."

He looks at me with surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He scratches his head and looks at me expectantly. "Clare," he nags, "what the hell's going on?"

"Oh, come on, Eli. Do you think I don't know what you're up to?"

He gives me a funny look.

I look at him impatiently and huff, "Well?"

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about," he says, sounding sincere. "Enlighten me, why don't you. Go on," he urges, deadpan. "Tell me what I'm up to."

"You know what I'm talking about. You're not that stupid."

"Well, I guess I am stupid because I've no clue what you're talking about."

I stare at the ceiling for a moment, take a deep breath and say: "Am I one of your little fuck buddies now, one of your little 'arrangements'?" I make the quotation marks with my fingers.

His eyes open wide. "Sorry?"

"You heard me."

"What do you mean?"

I suck on the inside of my cheeks, which makes a loud kissing sound. "A few days ago," I begin, "you told me you make sexual arrangements with women. You said that you screw them for a few days and then leave them, and you also said that the arrangements are always amicable. Well, well, well, Eli. I guess you forgot to let me in on our little arrangement."

A startled look flickers across his face. "That's not what this is," he says ruefully.

My heart skips a beat. Is it possible that he wants to be with me? That he wants me to be his girlfriend? That he's fallen in love with me? "Well . . .," I stammer adrenaline swifts through my body in the form of nausea. "Are you saying that this is for real?" My voice cracks a little when I ask this. I can't help but smile. This is for real; he wants me to be his girlfriend! To think I almost ruined things!

He clears his throat in nervousness.

I wait for an answer.

But he says nothing.

My heart plummets faster than running water in a faucet. This isn't real. He doesn't want me to be his girlfriend. He hasn't fallen in love with me.

I laugh sarcastically and look straight ahead at the door. "Well," I say, with feigned indifference, "I guess it's not real. But that's okay. I sort of expected this reaction from you. I'm not surprised." I fight back tears. I don't want to cry in front of him. "One thing is certain though, I will never sleep with a sleazebag like you again."

I grab my handbag and stride toward the door, but he grabs me tightly by my arm and looks at me with forlorn eyes. I cover my face with one hand—I have begun to cry and I don't want him to look at me.

"Clare, I—"

"Let go of me!" I shout.

"Clare," he whispers to me, a mixture of earnestness and sadness in his tone.

"I said let go!" I try to free myself, but his grip is too strong.

"Clare, Clare!" he says.

He sure loves to utter my name. I hadn't noticed that until now.

"I don't want to hurt you—"

"Let go!"

"—and I don't want you to cry over me. I'm a horrible person, Clare. I really am."

I glance at him. His green eyes have lost their light. "You're not a horrible person, Eli," I tell him.

"Yes, I am. I'm horrible, and selfish. I'm a selfish bastard."

He's still holding me tightly by the arm. I can feel the bruises forming on my elbow.

"But," he continues, "I want you, Clare. And I know that you want me too. I don't see the point in hiding the fact that we want each other." I feel his minty-fresh breath against my cheek. "Don't you think so, Clare? Isn't it pointless to resist?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because last night was amazing. I'm sure you'll agree with me when I say that last night wasn't just about sex—it was far more meaningful than that. We needed each other. Why can't you admit that you're in need of someone to hold? You see, Clare, I, too am in need of someone to hold. I want our loneliness to disappear from our being, for there are few things in life I hate more than loneliness. We could keep each other company for a little while—"

"Ah-ha!" I exclaim. "The arrangement!"

"No! That's not what I—"

I finally manage to pull away. I walk toward the door, but then I look back at him and say, "You have a serious problem, Eli. I think you should get your head examined. Or maybe you don't need a shrink. It's painfully obvious that you have problems with commitment."

"That's not what it is," he whispers sadly.

"Well, then what is it?"

"I can't tell you." He looks down at the floor humbly, as if wishing he could disappear.

I feel sorry for him. I have no idea what his problem is, but that doesn't mean I should humor him and agree to his appalling arrangement. "I'll work from home today. Call me if you need anything." I grab my jacket and exit the penthouse.


I know don't kill me! This is almost getting up to my stopped point in chapter 14, I have ideas it's just about getting them not to mush together and getting them written, but it's going to be somewhat enjoyable until then! Review?