Chapter 3

“Oh my god Maidali, what did he do to you?” She gently touches her fingers to the skin nearby some of my fresher bruises.

“I’m sorry,” I say, choking back a sob.

I hear Kjersten sniffle. “Not your fault, honey. Not your fault.” She pulls my head to her chest.

“You’re probably wondering how — how I could let somebody do this to me.” I pause to choke back another sob. “I — I didn’t have anywhere to go. I …” I try to choke back the next one too, but it doesn’t work. I can’t stop the tears and I can’t stop shaking.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. Shh.” Kjersten holds my head to her chest for a few minutes, and I concentrate on the sound of her heartbeat together with the cascading water of the shower, while I try to regain my composure.

She kisses the top of my head. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Maidali. Not your fault.”

Every time she says that I start to loose it, and this time is no different. I bawl my eyes out for a good five minutes. And the funny thing is, all I can think about the whole time is how much of Kjersten’s hot water I’m wasting.

Finally, my breathing returns to normal. I lift my head and look at the snot and tear-stains I’ve left on her t-shirt. “I — I’m …” I start.

Kjersten senses what I’m about to say and presses her finger to my lips. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” she tells me. “It’s just a shirt. It’ll wash out.” She places her hands on my shoulders, but I can’t meet her gaze.

“Maidali, please don’t think I’m a perv or anything, but I want to get some pictures.” Kjersten squeezes my shoulders in her hands, massaging them gently. “Just your bruises. For evidence.”

“It doesn’t matter, they’ll say I was asking for it.”

“This isn’t kinky sex, honey. This is abuse.” She pauses. “I should probably get your face in the pictures, but you can cover your privates.”

Kjersten runs off and returns with her phone a few seconds later. I haven’t moved, I’m still standing naked in her bathroom, waiting. I feel small.

“Cover if you want to.” She waits until I’ve placed my fingers over my nipples and raises her phone. Click. She moves to the left.

The phone is hovering just below my shoulder where there are four finger-sized bruises. I shudder at the memory of his hand squeezing me there, gripping me so hard that I cried as he forced me down to my knees. Click.

She moves to the right, focusing in on the bruise I got when I was late preparing dinner. Click. There are others.

“I need to get your thighs too,” she says.

I drop my hands and Kjersten frowns. I know she’s looking at the parallel stripes across my breasts that are in various stages of fading.

“Oh my god. Your nipples are bruised. How …” She stops mid-thought and pulls me in for a hug instead. I don’t even try to answer, I just drape my arms around her waist and heave a sigh. I feel a hot tear land on my shoulder. It’s not one of mine.

“I’m wasting your water,” I say.

“I’m not crying over wasted water, Maidali.” Kjersten sniffles and kisses me on the forehead. We cling together for a minute or two before she kneels down to resume photographing. I slip my hand between my legs to cover my sex. The running shower is making it warm and steamy in here, but I shiver anyway.

“All done,” she announces, and places her phone on the vanity.

I look at her, and she reaches up with her thumb to wipe my cheek. “Join me,” I say. “Please?”

Kjersten says nothing for a while, but when she removes her glasses I know that my wish will be granted. I watch her grab the hem of her t-shirt. The one that’s covered with my snot and tears. She pulls it up to reveal two of the most perfectly formed breasts I’ve ever laid eyes upon.

But I don’t see them as sexy. I want to, I really do, but right now I just see them as comfort. I lay my head down and Kjersten pulls me in. She has one arm draped lightly over my shoulders and her hand stroking the back of my head.

“Thank you,” I say. It’s really not enough to express how I feel right now, but that’s all I can come up with at the moment.

“Check the water,” she says. “Make sure it’s not too hot.”

I reach in and stick my finger under the stream. “It’s OK.”

Kjersten discards her remaining clothing and the two of us step in.

We stand together in the stream of water saying nothing. Kjersten towers over me, but I am not afraid of her. She reaches over to pick up a cloth and a bottle of body wash. The shower smells like a gardenia plantation as soon as she pops the cap.

The flowery scent coupled with Kjersten’s gentle motions over my arms is enough that I feel my muscles begin to slacken. All the tension I’ve been holding in my shoulders since last night releases a little more with each pass of the cloth. I close my eyes.

For a moment I can imagine the two of us standing together in a beautifully manicured garden. Kjersten is plucking flowers and weaving them into my hair. We’re going somewhere, maybe floating down a river together, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s a beautiful summer day and I’ve never been happier.

“Tilt your head back and rinse,” she says, interrupting my daydream. “Then you can do me.”

I smirk at the naughty thought that pops into my head as soon as the words cross her lips.

“What’s so funny?” she says.

“Nothing.” I lower my gaze and pass the cloth over her shoulders and arms. “How does a sociologist get so ripped?” I ask. I let my finger trace out one of the stars on her shoulders as I wait for her to respond.

“Must be all those heavy books.”

I just stare. She’s apparently dead serious, she doesn’t smile, she doesn’t even blink. Finally, I hear her snort and she breaks into a huge grin.

“Had you there for a minute. Actually, it’s from rowing. I’m part of The Crew here at the university. We were state champs in two-thousand sixteen. That’s when I got these.” She places a finger on one of the stars.

I move my fingers to join with hers, and together we trace out the remaining stars, uncovering them from beneath the soapy suds. “I think I like rowing,” I say.

Kjersten grins, so I take a chance and lift my head so that my mouth meets hers. Her lips are warm and inviting. I feel her quiver slightly as I slide my tongue over them and she parts to give me access. I feel her tongue press against mine, and a shudder runs the length of me.

If I could say here forever I would.

Kjersten releases me from her embrace and takes a half step back. “Are you sure you’re OK with this? After everything that’s happened?”

I nod and point to a bruise. “Will you kiss it and make it better?”

“You know that doesn’t really work, right?”

“I’m a strong believer in the placebo effect.” I pull her closer until our bodies are pressed so tightly that the water has nowhere to go, and begins to collect in little pockets here and there between us. “I’d like to try.” I bat my eyelashes, just for effect.

Kjersten doesn’t make any more attempts to dissuade me, instead she lowers her head to my neck and kisses me just below the ear.

“There’s no bruise there,” I say.

“Control group,” she says. “To see if the treatment is effective or not. Did you not pay any attention when I explained research methods? Jeez.” She’s smiling as she gazes down on me, and her fingers are trailing gently up and down my back.

“Honestly, I was just staring at your boobs the whole time.” I don’t give her another chance for a snappy comeback. I press my lips to hers and pull her back in. I point to the bruise at the top of my breast and Kjersten’s mouth is there shortly after to offer a gentle kiss.

I point to another spot where there is no bruise. “Control group,” I whisper. I feel Kjersten vibrate as she laughs, but when her lips press in around my tender flesh she is no longer so amused. She’s something else now. Determined, I think is the word I would choose.

I wrap my arms around her shoulders, trying to pull her closer, to encourage her determination. “Oh god, I love the control group.”

“You’re funny,” she says. “I liked you before, but now that you’re smiling — it’s just — you’re so much prettier when you’re not sad.”

I say nothing, just point to a control group on the other side. Kjersten wastes no more time with witty banter and goes straight to work. I squirm and arch my back as she swirls her tongue over my skin. God, she knows how to make a girl feel good.

Before long our lips have joined together again. I feel her tongue invading my mouth and I press back at it. We battle back and forth for another minute before I am forced to come up for air. While I stand heaving, Kjersten is sliding her fingertips over my back. It’s just shy of a tickle, and I shudder yet again.

“Oh, god,” I moan. “You’re so good.”

I’ve got my arms wrapped around her, hands up in an attempt to grip her shoulders. She’s taller than me by quite a bit and I only manage to reach the tip of her shoulder-blades. Kjersten doesn’t seem to mind though as she writhes under my touch.

The water of the shower lubricates my movements, making it easy to glide over the rippling muscles of her back. Every movement of my hands over her sets off a little tremor under my fingertips. And a little quivering in my thighs to match.

I want her so badly. All I can think about is her fingers parting me, filling me up inside, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. But Kjersten is taking her time. It’s maddening. I kiss her and nibble her lower lip before releasing her. Still her hands take the same slow, gentle path over my back.

“Kiss another bruise?” I ask, and she nods.

I point out the fresh one that I got for asking to renegotiate my contract. It’s on the top of my thigh, and Kjersten squats down until her mouth is poised just above it. The touch of her lips is barely perceptible. But the bruise actually does feel better, and I want more of her mouth.

I shudder as I think about how close she is to my sex. I reach down and part myself with my fingers. But Kjersten makes no effort to move, so I slip my finger in to demonstrate. Instead of moving closer to between my legs, she stands up again and takes my face in her hands.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” she says.

“Yes,” I say, and press my lips to hers.

Kjersten slips a hand behind my head and pulls me tighter as our kisses become faster, harder, more passionate. Her other hand is wrapped around my side, caressing the skin there. I place my fingers on top of hers and guide her hand lower.

“Please,” I say, as I draw my breath in ragged gasps.

I feel her fingers gently touching my hip, then moving to outline my folds, tracing slowly over my sensitive flesh. My knees grow weak, but Kjersten has wrapped her other hand around my waist to support me. As I feel her part me, I let myself go.

I am a rag doll, collapsed in her arms. All I can do is moan. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by someone determined to give me pleasure rather than take it from me, that I don’t know what else to do.

“Are you OK, Maidali?”

“Oh, god,” is all I can reply.

Kjersten vibrates as she chuckles a bit, then I feel her tongue on my neck. She traces out a long slow path as I quiver beneath her hand. She moves from my collarbone to my earlobe, first on one side, then the other. Her wonderful fingers never stop.