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Belinda’s timidity came back as soon as she regained her breath. Crying, she did her best to gather her clothes together, but it was hopeless, she had torn them in her excess of lust. She sat on the floor cross legged and her tears became a flood. Preston, in a display of wisdom beyond his years, took her into his arms and let her cry herself out.
It was more than half an hour before she settled enough for him to talk to. For the very first time the two of them spoke as friends. He was calming and quieted her as best he could. When she was calm, Preston went to the break room and came back with a trench coat someone had left there. He draped it around her and helped her fasten the front and then kissed her gently. Helplessly, he watched her slowly walk to her car.
He was a very somber young man as he dressed himself and locked up the building for the night. Belinda was unable to contemplate not telling Luke about what had happened. She had lied to him or hidden anything from him, though she was tempted not to say anything about this. Try as she might, she couldn’t justify hiding this. Her problem became one of how to explain it to him.
she was terribly afraid that Luke would decide from her appearance that she had been raped. It was true that Preston’s attentions were unasked for and unwarranted…but when it had progressed to a certain point, she had become the aggressor. Remembering how she had used gutter language and begged Preston to fuck her in the ass, she became both ashamed and aroused. Luke was waiting for her as she entered the house.
He looked quizzically at the raincoat she wore. Composing herself as best she could, Belinda went to the kitchen and poured two stiff drinks from a bottle of whiskey that they kept for visitors. Before capping the bottle to put it back up, she took a deep swallow of the fiery liquid. Coughing and choking, she collected the two glasses and went back to sit beside her husband.
