All bold text is from quoted directly from the book.

Saturday, May 21st (bumped to Saturday, May 24th)

Wow.  WOW WOW WOW!  Um.  Well.  I’m not sure what to make of today.  I got wasted last night, was stalked, and woke up in Christian’s bed at a hotel.  I felt rejected because he didn’t touch while I was passed out, not that I’d approve of that, but he doesn’t seem the sort who wouldn’t have his way anyway.  I thought there must be something wrong with me.  It even came with a sort of “it’s not you, it’s me,” warning.  “You should steer clear from me.”  It’s like he’s challenging me.

But then he confused me by saying he wouldn’t tough me without written consent.  Written consent!  What the hell?  Has he been accused of rape enough that he thinks he needs proof someone said yes?  So he wants me?  But them Mr. WTF-Does-He-Mean turned around and ole me I probably wouldn’t want to see him again.  He wants me, he wants me not.  Then he called his bodyguard and told him to send a helicopter later and he’ll take me to Seattle.  This didn’t feel life-flighted or anything.  More like the thing I’d need to be life-flighted from.

But in the elevator on the way out of the hotel!  Oh my god!  He kissed me!  One of those passionate kisses I’ve read about.  I swear I couldn’t breathe, but that could have been from his weight pressing me so hard against a wall. The kisses I’ve had before don’t hold a candle to this!  He knows what he’s doing all right.  He was pretty horny too.  Looking back, it’s funny.  His erection wasn’t as much as I thought it might be, but not bad.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss at work.  That sure made the day drag.  Who cares about drills and nails when my hormones were going crazy?  Christian picked me up from work and took me to the helicopter.  That ride was pretty neat, but nothing to write home about.  I was more distracted thinking about my damned sexual arousal and thinking I might die if he crashed.  He obviously didn’t.

When we got to his place, we got back on the topic of written consent and a contract about how I can’t tell anyone anything.  What am I, a free hooker?  He said his attorney insisted on it.  So what has he done, killed someone?  But all he wants is for me to not tell anyone if we do anything together.  Okay, fine.  So we’ll have a casual fling and no one has to know.  So I signed the non-disclosure, and he showed me this room he has.

It was out of a murder movie.  Red walls, a huge bed that was dark wood, and several things that looked like torture devices.  I couldn’t even process it.  I was just in shock!  He told me he wants me to please him, and I felt like I wanted to.  I want him to be damned delighted with me.  Maybe that’s how he won’t hurt me.  I can give him what he wants, make him happy, and he won’t do anything serious.

He showed me a sterile white room and said it would be mine on the weekends.  Okay, so if we do anything, it means I have to live with him and home no one asks anything because I can’t answer.  He showed me the contract he wants me to sign, but I don’t feel good about it.  He wants me to give him complete control of my life and let him beat on me.  I wouldn’t be allowed to eat any food he doesn’t approve of, and I have to get waxed where and when he says.  And if I don’t, he’s going to hit me.  That scares me.  It scared me too when he got pissed when he found out I’ve never even had sex.  He’s angry, glaring at me.

Why was that a big deal to him?  He snaps and paced and interrogated me about why I haven’t.  He jerked me around, then demanded to know why I was a virgin.  Well, I don’t know.  But why is it a big deal?

Then he told me we needed to rectify the situation and he ordered me into his room.  I trembled like a leaf, scared.  He got annoyed I wasn’t on the pill so that he had to use condoms.  Is he in the habit of sex without them?  Hello, STDs.

He was so rough.  He wanted to make me hurt.  For the first time I had a real orgasm, a few of them.  That I liked.  But now I’m confused.  We had sex a few times, and each time it was like he was staking more of a claim on me.  “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here  only me.  You are mine.”  He told me that several times, that I belong to him.  I’m his, all his.  Perhaps he was just talking in the moment.  I can’t ask Kate because of that agreement I signed, and if he could stalk me by my phone, maybe he could turn my phone and hers into one-way walkie-talkies so he could listen in on us.  I don’t want him to hit me, so I have to figure this out alone.

Going to sleep was such a relief.  It meant the confusing, though orgasm-filled, night was over.


Met # of days ago: 12

Days with contact: 5

Number of days dating: 0

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