It's About Power

Chapter 3

Though the night was still young and I was still lit up in my desire, Bill helped me back into my clothes. He dressed himself and blew out the candles on the mantle. A part of me felt used, as though I had been ridden hard and put away wet, still wanting, still needy. He lifted me up again, swinging my body over his forearms as though I were a sack of air. We were on my doorstep in two seconds, and he set me down again. The breeze had cooled the damp sweat on my skin, but had not relieved the slippery mess between my thighs.

"Do you work tomorrow night, Sookie?" He asked me, as calmly and rationally as he had asked the night before. If there was any hope in his voice, I couldn't hear it.

"No, I work the day shift." I said thoughtfully.

"I will call on you tomorrow night then." He said. He took a long quiet look at my face, perhaps taking in my wide eyes. I wondered if he could smell my ache for release. In a flash, he pinned me against the side of the house. His knee shoved between my thighs and his fingers squirmed inside my damp white panties. I felt his cool fingers on my hot skin. I sucked in a breath.

"And Sookie," he growled against my ear. I shook, as though every nerve ending was sparking at the same moment. I was a flint stone, breathing fire. "Don't pleasure yourself tonight. Writhe in agony tonight. I will give you all that you desire tomorrow."

He drew back his hand, his knee, his pressure on my strained figure. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. I didn't think I could wait.

"I don't think I can wait that long," I whimpered. I felt like a victim of some sort of medieval torture. Was he trying to kill me?

"But you will," he said smoothly. Then he walked down the steps and disappeared into the night.

I dashed into the house, waved to Gran in the kitchen, and scrambled into my bedroom. I grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom. I sat uneasily on the lid of the toilet seat. Lord in Heaven, I was a mess. I reminded myself of a song I used to love, about the "Amazon runnin' between my thighs," as the songwriter had said. My skin was all pins and needles, and I wanted to throw my fingers between my swollen lips and rub one out.

But I didn't.

Instead, I turned on the shower, as cold as the water could get without turning me into a popsicle. I took a big gasp of air and jumped into the stream. Oh My GOD, it was cold. So so cold. It was freezing cold water, and I forgot all about my desire for a really great orgasm. I forgot about everything but how very cold the water was. I didn't get out until my teeth started chattering. I tugged the towel around me and hopped back to my bedroom. I shut the open window and crawled underneath my covers, still damp from the shower. I shivered for a solid minute before Gran knocked on the door.

"Do you want dinner, Sookie?" She called. "I made chicken!"

"Sure, Gran," I called back. "I'll be out in a minute."

I spent the night tossing and turning despite a full stomach and a long cold shower. Those cold shower things only work for so long, you know. I clenched my fists. I buried my hands under my pillow. Eventually I fell asleep and dreamed of all the things Bill would do to me the next night, all the things I would have to look forward to if I could just keep a lid on it until then. I woke up panting at quarter past three. The moon shone like a beacon across my quilt. I couldn't take it anymore. My aching fingers dove between my thighs. He couldn't possibly know, right? He wasn't standing outside, just waiting for me to betray him, to disregard him. I was anxious and excited, desperate for my own personal pleasure. Thinking about Bill pleasuring me only made the lust worse. I bit my lower lip. I whined. I clenched my hands into fists so that I couldn't actually accomplish anything. Was this what suffering was like? I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I'd never been so deprived, and there was nothing holding me back!

Nothing, that is, except Bill's dark voice.

I came to the rhythm of my own fingers, and when I had finished, I was panged by guilt.

I got out of bed in the morning and slumped toward the bathroom to take a regular, not ice cold shower. My shoulders were heavy, as though weighed down by rocks, and though I was hungry, I couldn't face the prospect of eating. I dressed in my work uniform and got in my car to go to work. The day was slow and awful, like a countdown to torture. No part of me considered lying to him, telling Bill that I'd been completely faithful to his "suggestion" of orgasm abstinence. I felt as badly as when I'd stolen a dollar out of Gran's purse so that I could buy ice cream from the neighborhood truck! Gran hadn't punished me because she'd said that my guilt was punishment enough. A little voice in my head told me that Vampire Bill wouldn't be so lenient.

I crouched in the house like a scared puppy until sunset. I didn't dress up to meet Bill, but put on some old holy clam diggers and a loose-fitting tee shirt. When he knocked on the door, I answered it glumly. I considered telling him I was sick, or that I had had a bad day at work. On both accounts, I wouldn't be strictly lying, but I certainly wouldn't be telling the truth either. I wanted to tell the truth. I wanted to see that sly grin on his face. I wanted him to pull me roughly into his arms and kiss me. He wouldn't as soon as I opened my big mouth.

"You look unwell, Sookie," Bill frowned when he saw me. "Invite me in."

"Huh?" I blinked, a little confused.

"I cannot come in and tend to you until you invite me in." He said simply. He sounded concerned about my welfare. Little did he know I was, at least physically, completely fine.

"I invite you in," I said quietly. Bill opened the screen door and let it shut behind him. He scooped me up in his arms and sat me down on the floral sofa in Gran's living room. We were alone in the house, the vampire and I. I wondered what he would do when he found out I'd been unable to obey his wishes.

But for now, Vampire Bill was completely clueless. As soon as we were seated, he pulled me into his arms. He was surprisingly gentle and nurturing. I hadn't considered him capable of such kindness. He tucked my head against his chest and lightly stroked my tangled hair. His free arm rubbed my thigh lightly, but not in a sexual way. He rocked ever so slightly against the cushions, and I closed my eyes to enjoy it.

"I couldn't do it," I whispered. The words flowed out of me like water breaking the dam.

"You couldn't do what, Sookie?" He asked me. His arms still cradled me.

"I tried a cold shower. I tried to hold back. I just couldn't. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. I was going crazy." There were no good excuses though. I felt ridiculously guilty, as if I owed him my honesty and my faith.

"I can smell fear on you, Sookie." He frowned. He released me a little and he touched his hand beneath my chin to lift my face. I looked at him, and found in his eyes confusion and interest.

"Mostly, I feel guilty," I admitted. "I don't even know why. I just don't want to disappoint you."

"You're used to getting your way, Sookie. You'll come to understand that that is not what is important." He kissed me lightly and pulled me back down against his chest. My ear rested over his dead heart.

"You're not angry with me?" I asked like a child would ask. My voice was high and squeaking. My eyes burned with unshed tears.

"No, Sookie," he said gently. He pulled me closer and kissed the crown of my head. "I'm a little disappointed, but I'm not angry."

His disappointment tugged at my heart.