Sinful Pleasures

The darkened room was illuminated by the glow outside the window and he could barely see the silhouette of the woman standing at the foot of his bed.

"Gillian..." Rye whispered her name, then his forehead furrowed. He didn't know any woman with the name of 'Gillian.'

The woman didn't answer. She started to remove her shirt languidly. It was loose like a man's shirt.

His shirt...

Her movements were slow and languorous, guaranteed to rouse any man...

Him.

Rye could only see her eyes but not her face in the darkness. They were large and sparkling and full of yearning for him.

Only him.

He could feel his blood heat up. All his longing had gone to his center and his body started to harden, tenting the loose hospital cloth.

"Gillian..." His groan was full of longing. He craved her scent, her warmth, her body...

Just like in any dream, scenes changed fast. In a flash, her soft body was beside him on the bed. Her warm skin shimmied against the hungry muscles of his hairy chest.

He could feel her heat against his skin. Her softness drove him crazy with craving.

He could smell her fragrance. It was a natural and womanly scent. The air around him become so hot. He was sweating profusely and gasping like he was doing a heavy workout when, in fact, he couldn't move an inch. He moaned aloud.

He squinted in the semi-darkness to look at her face but all he could see was the slope of her sharp cheekbones and the sparkle in her luminous eyes before she kissed him.

Her lips were languorous yet restless. She lashed and licked at his mouth, the inside of his mouth, the crevices of his teeth... The kiss was the most sensual he'd ever experienced. If he wasn't flushed with a growing excitement already, he swore that he was blushing because the sweet lips kept on snogging his mouth.

Then her wet lips traveled to his cheek, smooching his face and his neck slowly. Her inquisitive mouth grazed his chest teasingly, not moving until he shuddered because his weak self-control was just as shaky as his precarious restraint on his reactions. Her mouth nibbled at his damp skin. Her curious fingers tickled his chest hair until he groaned huskily before moving further downward.

He bucked as her soft hand palmed his sensitive body gently. Her supple fingers encircled the muscle. His juddering breath was not released and somewhere in his abdomen, his blood churned and simmered, waiting to let go.

He wanted to reciprocate the touching... but he was in an accident. His arms and legs were immovable. The casts he wore were heavy and hard.

Damn! he swore silently.

She must have heard him because she chuckled faintly but did not utter a word. She continued her caresses on his body until he felt his heated body ready to burst.

He was always amazed by this development. Ever since the accident, that part of his body had no feeling. He had expected that he would be unresponsive but when Gillian started appearing in his dreams, he started to believe otherwise.

"Gillian..." He growled her name. "Gillian, I want--oh!" The groan finished in a surprised exclamation. He felt her feather-kisses.

Rye opened his eyes. He was wide awake and he darted his gaze everywhere. As usual, 'Gillian' was nowhere in the room. He was just dreaming. And he still didn't know who was the woman with him!

Yet he responded violently just like an uncontrollable teenager. What kind of craziness was that?

The door opened suddenly. The overhead lights switched on. Rye closed his eyes hastily, pretending to be asleep. A doctor and a nurse came in hastily. They examined the noisy blood pressure and the heart beat machine. Shaking their heads slightly as they recorded the results.

Rye averted his head to hide his embarrassment when the nurse removed the wet blanket. He felt the spread of a fresh blanket on his skin.

"The patient had interesting dreams," the doctor concluded in a whisper as he once again examined Rye's blood pressure and heart beat. "Again."

Rye breathed easily when they left the room. It was dark and silent once again, except for the quiet noise of machines. He stared at the smooth ceiling but didn't see it. The past was like a movie being replayed in his mind.

Three months ago, Rye was a very normal man. He could stand, walk, and use his arms and hands. Life was pretty normal until an accident happened.

He was in Davao, overseeing a new business venture, meeting with business people, and planning the next move. He was there for a week. The paperwork was done by his trusted assistant, Sam Ortiz. They were scheduled to fly to Cebu the next day.

He was also secretly scouting for the future Mrs. Rye Gonzaga. He did this silently and methodically. He had an ideal woman in mind but he was not in a hurry. He was determined to build a business empire, surpassing his father's more conservative businesses. And he was satisfied that all his efforts were paying off.

It was the last morning when fate decided to step in. Rye was jogging with other early risers like him. They just waved at each other, not bothering to shout greetings. Sweat streamed down their faces and necks. The temperature that morning was extra warm but they didn't pay much attention to it.

Then the earthquake happened without warning. The grumble beneath the earth was mighty. In just one blink of an eye, the road ahead had split open. Mothers from the nearby market threw away their shopping bags and ran towards their homes. Workers scrambled to take cover but the buildings around them crumbled down like biscuits. Everybody went berserk. Everywhere was bedlam.

For a second, Rye was immovable with shock. His old training as an ex-soldier came to the rescue when a child's sharp cry of distress grabbed his attention.

"Mommy! Mommy!" A girl of about five years old was sobbing and looking around. She was lost in the crowd of panicking people.

Rye didn't think twice. He snatched the girl but, unfortunately, the ground he stood on started caving in. He lost his balance and rolled down but he kept holding the girl protectively. He deliberately let his body received the brunt of uneven rocks and hard ground from the fall. They fell five feet below. There are lots of moaning and screaming from the people who also tumbled along.

Rye tried to get up but he could not move his arms. His head was between two inert bodies. There were several bodies lying across his legs.

"Don't be scared. Mommy is coming..." he whispered as he squinted his eyes to look at the girl's frightened face. The sun was up and scorching and yet, he felt very cold.

"I want my mommy..." she whimpered dimly.

"Yes... yes, mommy is coming..." That was the last thing he remembered.

When he regained his consciousness, it was one month after the earthquake. He was at the ICU because he was in a comatose. He had a head wound. He had a broken left wrist. His left and right arm were fractured. His back and legs received the most injuries. He was buried beneath a lot of bodies.

Rye was rescued after the bodies were removed. It was a small miracle that he was still breathing faintly when he was unearthed.

"Oh, thank God, you're awake!" Alicia Gonzaga, Rye's mother, exclaimed brokenly. "Thank you, Lord!" She was crying with a mixture of relief and despair.

"T-the little girl..." He tried to utter the only thought that first appeared in his mind. His voice was like a rusty iron scraping against rusty iron.

"The little girl was the first to get rescued because she is alive. She is with her parents as far as we know. They send their many thanks to you, Rye, for saving their child," Jim Gonzaga explained evenly. He was controlling himself while looking at his son's arms and legs. The doctors weren't confident that Rye would be able to walk again.

Rye closed his eyes again. He got easily tired. All parts of his body were hurting. A mammoth headache was throbbing.

"Sleep..." he moaned painfully.

"Rye, don't leave us, please!" His mother misinterpreted the closing of his eyes.

"Alicia, Rye just wanted to sleep. Let's get out of the room while the nurses and doctors attended to him." Rye dimly heard his father's level voice persuaded his hysterical mother.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a big and airy room. His arms and legs were still wearing casts. There were still machines present but the oxygen tube was missing.

Rye closed his eyes and fell asleep again. This was his routine for the next few weeks. He was awakened by the nurse to give his medicine or to listen to the doctors discussing his condition. His parents were always present. He barely acknowledged their presence because he was always drowsy.