to abandon him. Come hell or high water, I was in this with him.
Chapter Two
Aeren
My front door was barely hanging on its hinges, and could no longer close since the frame had been splintered apart behind their heavy hit. Pulling it gently open, I peered outside, looking up and down the hall for any signs that said my visitors were still lurking. Believing the coast was clear, I sprinted down the way to Mrs. Horace’s apartment and banged on the door.
“Mrs. Horace! It’s me, Aeren. Please open up. It’s an emergency.” I incessantly slapped my knuckles against her door, praying she wasn’t napping. The woman was half deaf without her hearing aids, and had expressed before that she didn’t sleep with them in, afraid either she would damage them or they would damage her.
I was just about to give up when the door swung open.
“What in Pete’s sake is going on out here? I’m tryin g to watch The Price is Right .”
I shoved past her as gently as possible, careful not to knock the short, pudgy grey haired woman over. “Close it, close it!”
She paused, looking around suspiciously.
Growing impatient, my nerves inching higher with each passing second, I pried her hand off the handle and slammed the door shut, locking every lock on the back of her door before stealing a dining chair and propping it up against it.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Horace. I can’t explain right now, but I need to use your phone, please.”
“Dear heavens, child. You’re shaking like a leaf about to fall from the tree at any second.” She studied me through her glasses, taking in every detail , I was sure. She had a sharp eye when you least expected it. I’d suspected the woman feigned the elderly stereotype on occasion, but never had proof.
“I know. I just- Where’s your phone?” My stomach clenched and chest compressed. I didn’t know whether I was going to vomit or faint first.
Reaching into the pocket of her apron, the one she wore over every housedress she owned, she pulled out the cordless receiver and passed it to me. “Now don’t be dialing long distance. The phone company charges an arm and a leg for those minutes.”
I nibbled my bottom lip. “Whatever they charge, I’ll pay you double.”
She narrowed her gaze on me, considering me for a long moment. “Well, I suppose you’re good for it. If not, I do know where you live.” She grinned lightheartedly, clearly not grasping the severity of the situation. “Now try not to talk too loud. I just love that Drew Carey fellow.”
I expelled an equally horrified and befuddled , “Huh.” The woman was clueless. Maybe it was best that way.
I waited until she made it back to her recliner before dialing Ram’s number. I prayed he answered.
I met Ram while on vacation in Miami one weekend. He claimed he was there for business, but that he always had time for pleasure. His dark features, sexy pout, mouth-watering physique and Turkish accent reeled me in without a line. To my amazement, and probably his too, despite spending nearly every waking hour together that weekend, we didn’t sleep together.
Ram’s kisses curled my toes and had my pussy weeping each time, yet there was this invisible barrier he wouldn’t cross. He claimed he liked me too much, respected me too much, and valued me too much to lose me. He’d said, “Inevitably, Ari , I lose everyone I get close to, and they prefer it that way.”
He never told me who they were. Rahmi didn’t give answers; he gave riddles. He said it was for my own safety. That first weekend, I thought it was part of the game he played with women, but when the sex never came, I began to accept it as truth.
Over the past five years, Rahmi visited me every couple months, or he paid for me to fly to see him for a weekend. Our time together was never long, yet, I learned more and more about the secretive male each time, and fell deeper and deeper in love with him. He didn’t call as often as I liked, but, somehow, anytime I
Chapter Two
Aeren
My front door was barely hanging on its hinges, and could no longer close since the frame had been splintered apart behind their heavy hit. Pulling it gently open, I peered outside, looking up and down the hall for any signs that said my visitors were still lurking. Believing the coast was clear, I sprinted down the way to Mrs. Horace’s apartment and banged on the door.
“Mrs. Horace! It’s me, Aeren. Please open up. It’s an emergency.” I incessantly slapped my knuckles against her door, praying she wasn’t napping. The woman was half deaf without her hearing aids, and had expressed before that she didn’t sleep with them in, afraid either she would damage them or they would damage her.
I was just about to give up when the door swung open.
“What in Pete’s sake is going on out here? I’m tryin g to watch The Price is Right .”
I shoved past her as gently as possible, careful not to knock the short, pudgy grey haired woman over. “Close it, close it!”
She paused, looking around suspiciously.
Growing impatient, my nerves inching higher with each passing second, I pried her hand off the handle and slammed the door shut, locking every lock on the back of her door before stealing a dining chair and propping it up against it.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Horace. I can’t explain right now, but I need to use your phone, please.”
“Dear heavens, child. You’re shaking like a leaf about to fall from the tree at any second.” She studied me through her glasses, taking in every detail , I was sure. She had a sharp eye when you least expected it. I’d suspected the woman feigned the elderly stereotype on occasion, but never had proof.
“I know. I just- Where’s your phone?” My stomach clenched and chest compressed. I didn’t know whether I was going to vomit or faint first.
Reaching into the pocket of her apron, the one she wore over every housedress she owned, she pulled out the cordless receiver and passed it to me. “Now don’t be dialing long distance. The phone company charges an arm and a leg for those minutes.”
I nibbled my bottom lip. “Whatever they charge, I’ll pay you double.”
She narrowed her gaze on me, considering me for a long moment. “Well, I suppose you’re good for it. If not, I do know where you live.” She grinned lightheartedly, clearly not grasping the severity of the situation. “Now try not to talk too loud. I just love that Drew Carey fellow.”
I expelled an equally horrified and befuddled , “Huh.” The woman was clueless. Maybe it was best that way.
I waited until she made it back to her recliner before dialing Ram’s number. I prayed he answered.
I met Ram while on vacation in Miami one weekend. He claimed he was there for business, but that he always had time for pleasure. His dark features, sexy pout, mouth-watering physique and Turkish accent reeled me in without a line. To my amazement, and probably his too, despite spending nearly every waking hour together that weekend, we didn’t sleep together.
Ram’s kisses curled my toes and had my pussy weeping each time, yet there was this invisible barrier he wouldn’t cross. He claimed he liked me too much, respected me too much, and valued me too much to lose me. He’d said, “Inevitably, Ari , I lose everyone I get close to, and they prefer it that way.”
He never told me who they were. Rahmi didn’t give answers; he gave riddles. He said it was for my own safety. That first weekend, I thought it was part of the game he played with women, but when the sex never came, I began to accept it as truth.
Over the past five years, Rahmi visited me every couple months, or he paid for me to fly to see him for a weekend. Our time together was never long, yet, I learned more and more about the secretive male each time, and fell deeper and deeper in love with him. He didn’t call as often as I liked, but, somehow, anytime I
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