Waking up refreshed in bed, I yawned. Until the memories of what happened flooded my mind. What the fuck did I do? Could I get any more pathetic than to fuck the cop who is going to arrest me for murder? I might as well confess now and get my life over with, but what happened is not changing. I somehow have to move on, as if I don’t remember, until I figure out how to handle this mess.

  Creeping out of bed, I moseyed into the kitchen for some water. My stomach growled as soon as my eyes made contact with the frig. Thank goodness the handsome detective was not standing there shirtless again. It would have been more than I could handle. Opening the right-side door of the steel surface, I browsed for something to eat. Spying my tray of sushi, I grabbed it and the chopsticks sitting on the counter and headed for the couch. Of course, the detective was sleeping on the couch. He was probably there to ensure I didn’t slip the noose and walk out the door. I moved to the table and sat to eat.

  His head popped over the back cushion of the gray couch, and he asked, “I can fix you something else if that doesn’t taste good. Are you okay? You fainted on me, scared the shit out of me.”

  I jumped in my seat, startled. Turning my head, I shook it no. My voice was not working, but my heart palpitations thumped with sensations. His blonde locks were mussed, and his five o’clock shadow was in full force. He was so fucking handsome; I couldn’t blame myself for the desire that stirred. The chemistry between us was something I didn’t know how to handle. I had not thought it could be so powerful, so overwhelming, so carnal. I wanted to jump over the couch on top of him and feel him impale me and ride him until we both were bewitched. But it can never happen again. The loss had me almost crying in anguish at the thought of not intimately fucking him again. I quickly turned my head back to my meal before he could see my tears trail down my cheeks.

  I lost my appetite. I don’t think I ate in the last two days, but I didn’t care if I never ate again. The pain and sorrow in my chest was heart-wrenching. I wanted to bury myself in a hole and disappear. I got up from the table and threw the rest of the sushi away, realizing it wouldn’t keep for another day. I took the rest of my water and headed towards the bedroom, not saying a word. I could feel the detective's eyes follow me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I crawled back into my bed and threw the covers over my head. And I cried into the pillow to muffle the sounds of my heartbreak, the life I could never have, and the love I would never know.

  I cried so much that my pillowcase became saturated, and the exhaustion drained me to the point of passing out. I woke to someone sitting on the bed beside me. He pulled the covers down and looked at my face. I’m sure it was a blotchy mess from my breakdown. I still had no idea what to do or what to say. I was sure I had no more tears, but down they fell again as I gazed at his deep blue eyes, considering me. For the first time, I felt that someone-a stranger at that–was observing my soul. I could interpret my distress and allow the wit to cover for my insecurities, even knowing exactly who I was as a person. But could I trust him? Would he have my back no matter what came pouring out of my mouth? Was I willing to bet my freedom?

  “What’s wrong, Rochelle? Did your memories come back?” he inquired, looking her straight in her gorgeous blue eyes.

  Do I tell him the truth and let loose this blackness in my soul? Or do I hide and devise a better plan to stay out of jail?

  I had no idea, and I said the first thing that popped into my head, “My head was hurting. I wanted to lie down.” Chicken shit.

  “Damn, this is all my fault. They warned me not to let you engage in strenuous activity, which could impact your head. I am so sorry I did not control myself. I was a selfish bastard. Please forgive me. What can I do to comfort you?” he apologized, asking for forgiveness.

  I whined as tears fell again. “This is not your fault. It is from my memories trying to return. I had some snatches yesterday, but they did not make sense.” I could not let him take the blame for my shame. So I told him a partial truth until I could figure out a plan.

  “Oh, that’s great. I am so sorry to have pushed you, though. Maybe I bumped some memories back in?” He laughed, trying to make me smile.

  His sitting next to me was making me hot. I threw the covers off. Lying there in just his white t-shirt, my nipples pebbled. His eyes glanced at my chest. I could see the desire in them. Creating a deep sensation of his lips caressing them fondling, sucking and twisting on my breast and nipples. To have him grasp them with his hands and squeeze as he feasted. I watched his eyes dilate as if he had read my thoughts.

  I grinned. “Maybe we should do it again since it worked last time?”

  “It is hard to say no to a beautiful woman lying in my bed, and as much as I want to strip that shirt off you and have my lips and hands all over your lush body. It grieves me to say we can’t. Yesterday should not have happened, you're my responsibility, and I messed up giving in to base desires to feel my hard cock in that sweet pussy of yours. Even now, you are too appealing of a temptation for me, Rochelle. I want you!” he moaned as his hand caressed the side of my face, running his forefinger to my chin. He dipped his face as he lifted my chin and chastely kissed me.

  I tried to deepen the kiss, but he backed away and would not let me invade his mouth with my tongue. I felt a profound loss. I needed his touch badly. I was horribly confused by these conflicting emotions and couldn’t think straight. I assumed if we fucked, I would have him out of my system, then I could reason again. But observing the anguish in his passionate eyes told me there was no stopping what this was between us. It was either depositing me in prison or he was progressing towards my salvation. I wasn’t sure which one it was yet.

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  “We still need to discuss yesterday. You passed out on me before we finished the conversation. Are you feeling well enough to sit on the couch and discuss it?” he pondered as he hoped to leave her bedroom before his control snapped and he ravished her.

  “Yes, we can do that.”

  “Ok, I’ll let you dress and make some scrambled eggs. See you in a few,” he said as he rose and left the room.

  I went into the bathroom to wash up and brushed my teeth. It took longer as I looked in the mirror, wondering what I would tell the good detective or how much I was willing to share. I had no idea what to do. I felt more and less like myself since regaining my brain waves. Knowing who I was was a conundrum of relief and sadness at the same time. I was falling for the enemy, and it would land me in jail. We’ll have to see how this plays out. Jail or freedom?

  Walking into the living room, Dwayne was setting up the TV tray with a plate of eggs and toast, another bottle of water, and two Ibuprofen pills. How can I lie to a man who has taken such good care of me? It tore at my heart to deceive him, but I would lose him anyhow, going to jail. I was doomed no matter what I did. I decided to keep my livelihood to myself and pretend only to have a few memories that returned.

  “This looks good. Thank you.”

  “Here, sit and eat before they get cold.”

  I sat behind the table and dug in. The eggs hitting my palate had me closing my eyes and moaning. Not having had any food in the last few days made me appreciate the taste. My mouth froze as I looked at the detective, to utter, they were amazing. The desire in his gaze and the show of it in his erection-tented pants was too much. I groaned as heat swamped me.

  “Do it again,” he whispered. “Or maybe you shouldn’t moan again. It has a visceral effect on me.”

  I was all for the primal reactions I created. I scooped another small bite of eggs and slowly raised the fork to my mouth. I opened it, put the utensil in my mouth in the most provocative way, and moaned. But I didn’t close my eyes this time. I watched as pure lust filled Dwayne's face, darkening his eyes almost black. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. The raw magnetism of MY effect on him was – WOW. I had this power; I was caught, I was wanted, and I was desired. And if perusing the huge cock standing up for me was any indication. I was about to be royally fucked.

  My tingling core insides became my outsides as I almost came in his sweatpants, which had the same effect as his lustful, beautiful blue eyes. The heat in them had me wiggling in my seat. I wanted him to make the first move this time. The last two were on me. This one had to be his turn. I grabbed my toast to take a bite, but my slowness had him pushing the toast away and placing his lips there instead. I immediately opened them to welcome his probing tongue. He swept in, and my brain went to mush, like losing my memories all over again.

  The sexual attraction was erotic, the kiss lingering, slow, and powerful. Filling my senses with a hunger I had never experienced before. It was different this time, unlike the kitchen encounter. Was this because I knew who he was to me? Or because my memories were back? I had no idea why, but the course of my future was set in stone. I wanted him for me, no matter the cost to my person. Detective Dwayne Dawson was mine. Now, how was I going to get him on the same page?

  “You're thinking while I’m kissing. What are you contemplating?”

  “How slow you are going and how I want you naked.”

  “Last time going fast created disastrous results of your fainting, so we need to take it slow and easy, or not at all.”

  “Your wish is granted, slow and easy.” As I twirled my tongue in his mouth, I rubbed its tip along the ridges on top. Hearing him moan my name encouraged me to rub my tongue along his teeth and play with his tongue. We kissed for a few more minutes, and then he broke the kiss. Sat me back on the couch cushion and breathed.

  “We need to talk first.”

  “About? What could be more important than kissing?”

  “You and me and your first time?”

  “What difference does it make? As you said yourself, we have chemistry. Not everyone has sex just to get laid. Some need that passion to feel the need to copulate.”

  “You never felt passion before?”

  “I never felt seen before. I’ve always been invisible.”

  “There is no way. You are beautiful and funny, and you take my breath away.”

  “I guess you’re fortunate to see it because everyone besides my BFF has missed it. Lucky you,” I glumly said while trying to piece together what this meant. My mood was soured by this talk, reminding me of a past better left forgotten. But it reared its ugly head, and now I had to deal with it. It reminded me he was the enemy, and we couldn’t be together. All of a sudden, I was tired and heartbroken. My head was pounding, and I wanted to get away from the man who had brought up these terrible feelings.

  “My head hurts. I’m going to go lie back down and rest.”

  “I’m sorry. I ruined the whole mood. I don’t know why it bothers me that I took your virginity, but it does. I don’t want you to be sorry that your first time was with me, an unfamiliar person. You saved yourself for so long that I feel guilty. I don’t want you to hate me when you recall everything.”

  “In the first place, I was not saving myself. It just never happened for me until it did. I had sex with you because I wanted to, not to lose anything. There is no guilt to feel for either of us. I desired to have sex with someone who wanted ME. Who saw me as a beautiful woman. Who desired me. You may never understand the importance of my decision, but if I am good with it, shouldn’t you be too? Or will you ruin everything and make us both feel like we did something wrong?”

  “You’re right, Rochelle. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel about no one noticing you. I can’t stop thinking about you and wanting to feel you wrapped around my cock. It has been eye-opening to feel your passion and to hear your sultry voice as witty, seductive suggestions excite my senses. I can’t imagine not having you around now that you’re here. I’m afraid of what my life will be like when you receive your memories and leave me,” he sadly inflected.

  I never once thought about his emotions. What a selfish bitch I am. I always assumed that everything had to do with me since being alone for so long had made me self-regard. I never considered what my presence here did to his badge or personal emotions. His boss would fire him for helping the porch pirate. Here I was, the most wanted person right under his nose. It would ruin his career; he could lose his job for harboring a person wanted for questioning about a murder. OMG, what a mess I have made of everything. I finally found a handsome, kind man who noticed me, but he was very much the wrong guy to be involved with.

  “I’m sorry, too. Can we talk about this later? I need to lie down.”

  “Sure, honey. Here, swallow the pain pills,” he said as he handed me the bottle of water with two pills.

  I swallowed them, exited the couch, and went to my room. I crawled under the blankets and cried. It was all too much. I finally found a decent guy I could fall in love with, and it would ruin his life to be involved with me. Life sucked!

  Finally, I gushed out all my tears and fell asleep.