Continued from last entry "What makes you think that I'm not?" I said, trying to cover my little white lie, trying to protect myself.
"Because I can tell. I can tell by your body language, the way that you are trying too hard, the way you want to be noticed, the way you prevent yourself from being too noticeable." Again, he was so matter-of-fact about it, as if he were giving directions to a stranger, yet he was so patient, never egotisical.
I didn't answer him. "What's your name?"
"Bill." He said, eyes creasing as he smiled, fully aware that I was misdirecting the conversation.
"Hi Bill." I said, not knowing what else to say.
He sat back in his chair, fully in control of the situation. I, on the other hand, sat perfectly straight, my hands clasped on the table in front of me, balancing on the front of my chair. He made me very... nervous isn't really the word... perhaps self-conscious, although that's not really it either. The way he looked at me was as if he could see my thoughts, knew what I looked like without clothes on, LIKED what he saw there.
I glanced again to the table of my friends.... the one who had been drinking too much was now crying and the others were drunkenly trying to console her.
"If I'm keeping you from your friends... I apologize. Go if you'd like." He said, watching me.
"No," I said. "They're fine." In truth, I wanted to figure out why he was making me feel so electric, feel on fire. The way he kept looking into my eyes was a bit intoxicating and I didn't feel ready to let go of that quite yet.
"Good." He said, leaning toward me. "I don't like to share." his voice taking a low tone, almost a growl, making a small shiver go up and down my spine.
"So..." I countered, trying to shake the way he unnerved me. "What do you like to do?"
He leaned back again. "I work in natural resources."
I easily pictured him, a lumberjack or forester, something which had him in the woods.
He continued, "I'm a... problem solver, I guess. People come to me with their problems, and I fix them. I'm good at helping people."
"That's nice." I said, not really knowing how much to believe. I once had someone tell me that they were a COO when it later turned out that they worked in the mailroom. But his reluctance to tell me his title was interesting. "What else do you like to do?"
"Hunt... fish... anything outdoors. I like to be in the wilderness."
I nodded. In this area of the country, usually the stupid people gravitated toward guns and shooting. I always said that I'd never be involved with someone who enjoyed killing bambi to compensate for their lack of a brain. I slotted this piece of information into place in my concept of him, shaking off the way he made me feel as blind stupid luck. Now to make small talk and get away as fast as possible.
"The woods are a great place to be... I've often wanted to build a cabin very far up north, in one of the national forests, maybe on a little lake, with no neighbors."
"No one to hear you scream?" He said, looking directly into my eyes.
My gaze met his immediately. "Why would I be screaming?"
"Nevermind. That was innappropriate of me to say. My apologies... just got a mind picture."
I adjusted myself in my chair. Great... he was creepy, too. A creepy man with guns.
"I guess I hadn't thought of such things." I said in a small voice.
"You should.... that's not what I meant, but that's something you should think about. Someone to protect you."
"I don't need anyone to protect me."
He chuckled. "You don't.. no... but you want someone to."
There he went again. In truth, I loved the thought of some big strong guy defending my honor. The whole knight in shining armour thing that every girl gets weak in the knees for.
"And you think you fit the bill... Bill?" I said, trying now to turn him off with my brashness.
"I do, yes, but I would never be so forward as to suggest that to you... that would be your decision to make, not mine. But," again he stared into my eyes, making me feel warm and weak inside, making my stomach tie up in flutters. "if you did decide, I would protect you with everything I had. If you were mine." He took another sip of his soda, watching me closely.
Mentally, I pictured this man, fighting for me. He had a tenacity that somehow I felt he would win any fight he was in.
"Have you been in many fights?"
"A couple."
"Over a woman?"
He shook his head. "No, never over a woman." My heart sank.. maybe I was wrong. "If I'm fighting some man over a woman, that means that she hasn't made up her mind yet. I demand utter loyalty, complete ownership." I bristled at the word ownership. "If she hasn't made up her mind yet, I'm not going to make it up for her. But protection... that's a different story."
Again a shiver up my back.
"Ownership?"
"Yes... in a sense. An agreement of a nature. Wouldn't you say that, in a sense, the members of a couple or a marriage own each other?"
"In a way."
"Does that bother you... the sense of being owned?"
"Yes... and no. I guess...." I stammered. "I think it's a little subserviant."
"Yes. Subserviant in a way, but it would be a choice... a gift given freely."
I looked back to the table of "unowned" friends... all of them drunk, sad, and alone. Didn't everyone want to be wanted? To be desired? Even as 18th Century as it was, in a way, it made me go a little gushy to think about being some man's property.
"I'm not really a submissive type of person." I said slowly. It was true. I wasn't. I managed several people on a team, told people what to do all day long, and was a natural leader in all social situations.
He nodded in agreement. "I can tell that you're not. You haven't found anyone worthy of submitting to."
My eyes must have gotten wide, thinking about the possibility that I would "submit" to anyone, EVER. I was an oldest child, having been bossing around siblings since I was five years old. I was in student government in high school, class president, president of many clubs, student government in college.
"That's right. I guess I haven't."
"But you would submit." He said with certainty.
"I guess anything is possible... it's not likely."
"You would." Again, with a sense of knowing. I looked away, allowing my hair to fall over my face.
"You shouldn't hide your face like that." He said, reaching across the table, taking the strand of hair in his fingers and tucking it gently behind my ear, then trailing his finger down across my cheek. And I let him, looking up at him, powerless. "You've got a pretty face."
I blushed again, and smiled a small tight smile. The spot where his rough fingers had touched my cheek felt hot, stained, tingling.
"Now go." He said suddenly. I raised my eyebrows, confused. "Your friends need to be taken home." He nodded to them... now two of them were crying and the third was angrily yelling at both of them. "But I will be here, if you should like to come back to me."
"You will be here.. tonight?" I asked, still confused. This was so odd.
"Yes. Now go." He said with authority. I immediately walked back over to the table, feeling his eyes on my bottom, very conscious of the way it must look from behind as I walked.
to be continued
