The Construct Of Love: Chapter 2

This is a polished draft from my debut novel, The Construct Of Love. Final version may differ.

A Man, Two Women And A Wrecked Car (Working Title)

She should be calling emergency services. She should be a complete, nervous wreck. Instead, Clarissa remains fixated on the naked man indented on the hood of her car. He also happens to have an erect, throbbing, hypnotic dick—the sight of which makes her feel strangely wonderful.

"Is he dead?" Delphine asks.

The question scatters Clarissa's pleasant fog, replacing it with a worrying chill. Lawsuits, job security, social judgment—all of it rushes in, echoing Delphine's earlier warnings.

Then, as if on cue, Clarissa falls right back into that satisfying gaze.

"He's beautiful."

"Fuck yeah, he is."

Clarissa shoots her roommate a wicked glare, surprised by the spike of offense she feels. Why does Delphine’s agreement bother her?

"What? He is."

Suddenly, Clarissa blinks, realizing they’re on an open road. In broad daylight.

"What?! What's wrong?"

"We have to hide him."

"Are you insane?! We need to call for help!"

"Help me put him in the trunk," Clarissa says, running to the back of her car and forcing it open.

"We can't put him in there!"

"Why not?"

"He needs a doctor! And air! Think!"

"He might be okay."

"Oh I’m sorry, are you a health professional now?" Delphine snaps. "Last I checked, physics and gravity don’t exactly work in a person’s favor when they fall from—way up there. And why the hell is he naked with a saluting pee-pee? You got me."

Then, like Clarissa, she gets visually ensnared.

"Goddamn, he's hot."

Seconds later, Clarissa joins her. The man is absurdly beautiful.

Deeply defined abdominal muscles. Masculine, yet soft facial features. Full lips, dimpled chin, strong shoulders, and the kind of pectoral muscles you want to lay your head on. His pelvic region forms a V, guiding the eye to his perfectly sculpted erection. Thick, muscular legs.

Clarissa clears her throat, regaining a sliver of rationality.

"Shouldn't he be mangled… from something like… this?"

"You’d think," Delphine says. A flicker of common sense returns. "We have to call the police. I don’t care how sopping wet I am."

She inputs 911 and is about to hit send when the man’s erection suddenly goes flaccid.

Clarissa and Delphine exchange a look. Somehow, that becomes the strangest thing.

They lean in.

"We should probably check his pulse."

"Well, go on then," Delphine says.

Clarissa inhales deeply and reaches for his neck.

His eyes fly open.

They scream and leap back. He sits up, looking at them, then the sky, then back.

He rubs the back of his head and smiles warmly.

"Hi."

They stare in disbelief. No blood. No bruises. No scratches.

He eases off the hood of the car.

"Turned into a beautiful day. Wouldn't you agree?"

Clarissa is stunned by how unnaturally handsome he is. She tries to say something—anything—but struggles to find words.

"What are you two very beautiful ladies doing out here?"

A hot, bewildering rush floods her body. She feels a compulsive need to speak. But just as she opens her mouth—

"I'm Delphine. This is my friend, Clarissa. Just going to say it—you are the hottest man I’ve ever seen."

"That’s incredibly kind," he says, smiling at Delphine. "Especially coming from such a gorgeous woman."

Delphine melts.

A sharp sting of jealousy snaps Clarissa out of her daze. She blurts:

"You should be dead."

She instantly regrets it.

"Dead?" he asks. "Oh! Right."

He looks up at the sky. They follow his gaze.

"I guess I’m not, or no more than I was before."

Delphine grabs Clarissa’s arm and pulls her away.

"Let’s put him in the trunk," she whispers, biting her lower lip.

Clarissa glares. "Are you crazy?!"

"Like a fox. Let’s bring him home with us."

"What?! And keep him like a pet?"

"That’s not… No, of course not. I just… I really want him around."

"We’re not doing that."

"Five minutes ago you were ready to stuff his super sexy, potentially dead body into the trunk like a necro-craving lunatic. But now it’s my idea and suddenly it’s wrong?"

"Nuh-uh," Clarissa snaps. "That’s not it!"

Except it is. And more.

A swirl of jealousy and want floods her. Right now, this naked man is the most valuable thing in the world to her. And she refuses to share.

She briefly considers tricking Delphine into leaving, then sneaking back to claim the man herself. The thought vanishes as quickly as it came.

Of course, they have to be reasonable. This isn’t normal. No one should survive what he did—let alone look this good afterward.

She starts to say, "You were right the first time. We have to be reasonable—"

A car slows as it passes. The naked man is casually leaning against her wrecked vehicle, smiling.

Clarissa sees it: someone in the passing car stares long and slow at them. A surge of rage and fear overtakes her—the fear of losing something she just found.

She grabs a sizable rock from the roadside and hurls it at the passing car.

"Fuck off!"

The rock hits the lower half of the passenger door. The car speeds away.

Clarissa turns to the man.

"Get in the trunk."

"Okie dokie," he replies cheerfully.