The Camp (Chateau Book 2) Page 10
But her hand grabbed my wrist.
I stilled at her touch but didn’t turn around.
“Thank you…for today.” Her fingers stayed on me, gently pulling me toward her so I would turn around.
I turned around and looked down at her, her hair curled in a pretty way, her eyes bright even though the sun wasn’t shining on her face anymore. There was sincerity in her gaze, like taking her outside for the afternoon was equal to the other things I’d done for her. I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge her gratitude because it was a bit sickening that it was something she needed to be grateful for. I turned away again.
Her hand squeezed my wrist so I wouldn’t go. “Do you forgive me?” Her voice turned desperate, like she hoped for something more now that we were back at the apartment, now that I hadn’t been a complete ass to her.
I didn’t turn around to face her completely.
She waited, her fingers still clamped onto my skin.
I didn’t know the exact reason I’d taken her out that afternoon. It was an impulsive decision that I didn’t make until I saw her sitting there looking out the window. Like all the other times I’d done something for her, there wasn’t any thought put into it. It was just instinct. I pulled my hand away and headed to the stairs. “No.”
Fourteen
Stasia
The valet took my car, and then I entered the estate, joining the crowd of women in their fancy dresses and the men in their tuxedoes. A flute of champagne was handed to me, and I took it even though I didn’t drink that piss.
I made small talk with people I didn’t want to make small talk with.
These parties were the bane of my existence.
They just reminded me how corrupt the world really was.
The president invited us.
We donated money to his causes and his campaigns, and in turn, he looked the other way about our enterprise. We were even friends, if friendship was a real thing. After long and meaningless conversations about the weather, the changes to the Republic, and the immaculate estate that entertained us, I eventually found Fender.
With his arm around Melanie, he spoke to someone I didn’t know, his hand holding a flute of champagne even though he hated it too.
Melanie was in a black cocktail dress that barely had a back or a front. She was the trophy that Fender wanted everyone to know he had. With heavy makeup, her curled hair pulled back to reveal her face, and her bare skin in all the places the dress didn’t cover, she stood there with a diplomatic smile, being an accessory more valuable than a watch or a ring. She noticed me, and her fake smile quickly dropped when we made eye contact.
I came to her side and greeted her with a nod.
She looked slightly past me, as if she hoped her sister would be behind me. “You didn’t bring her?”
“Why would I?” She was my prisoner, not my woman.
Fender finished his conversation before turning to me. “Stasia is looking for you.”
I’d forgotten about her.
“Who’s Stasia?” Melanie asked.
I didn’t answer.
Neither did Fender.
“Have you come to a decision about Napoleon?” I asked, hoping he took my gut instinct seriously.
He nodded. “It’s fine, Magnus.”
I couldn’t hide my annoyance. “It’s not the right choice.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s the right choice or not.” He quickly turned on me, raising his voice like he didn’t care if anyone overheard. “It’s my choice. Maybe I would value your input more if your decisions didn’t cause me to lose my entire camp, nearly all of my workers, and some of my guards.”
Melanie looked at the floor like she was the one on the guillotine instead of me.
Fender stared at me with a fiery gaze, like he dared me to respond.
“I’m just looking out for you—”
“If you wanted to look out for me, you would have let that cunt die the first time.” He walked away and pulled Melanie with him.
I stared at the spot where he’d just been, looking at the wall now that he was gone. I brought the glass to my lips and took a drink even though it tasted like garbage. I just needed to get something down to wash away the bile flooding my mouth.
A hand grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me away.
My eyes moved to the brunette woman in front of me, pulling me down a hallway and into a deserted room full of vintage wine, an overflow because the cellar down below couldn’t hold it all.
“What is it, Stasia?” I pulled my hand free once we were alone and looked down at her. Even in heels, she was still substantially shorter than me.
She had dark hair that was almost black, green eyes that were confident and playful, and full lips that were the perfect seal around my dick. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “What is it, Stasia?” she asked, mildly incredulous. “An odd way to greet the woman who lets you come in her mouth.” She crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a red cocktail dress with a single strap over her shoulder, short to reveal her nice legs all the way to her thighs.
“I… This isn’t the best time.”
“Fender piss you off again?”
He always pissed me off. “Something like that.”
A soft smile moved on to her lips as she came back toward me, her hands flattening against my chest so she could feel my hardness underneath. She crept closer, our noses touching, and then she kissed me, her hands sliding down to the front of my pants. With her full lips, she kissed me hard, pausing after the first embrace to savor the taste, and then she kissed me again, breathing deep like she liked it.
I kissed her back because it was muscle memory at this point.
Her hands undid my pants so she could have me. “I’m a little hurt that you’ve been here for a week and haven’t called…”
When her hand moved underneath my boxers, I pulled away.
Both of her eyebrows rose in surprise. “What’s gotten into you?”
I zipped up my fly and fastened the button. My thumb automatically went to my mouth to wipe away the lipstick she’d undoubtedly left there. My hands settled into my pockets next, and I kept my distance.
She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head as she regarded me. “Magnus?”
“I didn’t call because I didn’t want to.” I stared her down, eyes burning with fire, my voice ringing with authority.
Her playfulness evaporated when she realized this was serious and not just a mood swing. Her lips fell into a frown, and the confidence left her gaze. “I don’t understand…”
“There’s nothing to understand. We were fucking—now we aren’t.”
“We’ve been fucking for months, so that’s a bit abrupt, don’t you think?”
I looked at the wine display on the wall. I didn’t deny her just because I was in a bad mood, but that definitely made my reaction harsher. The second her lips were on mine, it felt weird, like she’d never kissed me before. I didn’t like it. Felt a little sick, truth be told. She wanted me because I was rich, powerful, and good-looking. It was an investment, getting into my pants and then my heart so she could have everything that came with me. It made me angry…because she didn’t know me at all. She didn’t know who I really was. “Not really.”
Her eyes narrowed farther. “A man only turns down sex with a beautiful woman for one reason…he’s already getting sex from another beautiful woman.”
That wasn’t the case with me.
She waited for me to look at her.
I shifted my expression to her face.
“I thought you didn’t commit.”
“I don’t. I’ve just lost interest, Stasia. Don’t read too much into it.”
She came closer to me, strutting as she moved across the hardwood floor, her heels tapping. “Men don’t lose interest in women who look like me. So, the reason your dick is still in your pants is because it’s loyal to someone else. Interesting. Who is she?”
I held h
er gaze and saw the jealousy, anger, and betrayal swirl in her eyes. I was the big catch she wanted to reel in, the man she wanted to take care of her, the man to buy her everything she wanted. And once her plan failed, she was furious. I turned away to leave. “No one.” I never promised her anything. It was her mistake to assume she could be what Melanie was to my brother. “Like I said, you’re reading too much into it.”
Fifteen
Forgiveness
I had to return to the camp in a few days—with Raven.
I wasn’t excited about it. I’d always hated going to the camp, but now I loathed it. The guards hated me, it was hot, and now I had to share what little space I had with the woman who betrayed me.
I’d be there for a month before I got to leave again.
I sat in the living room upstairs, drinking scotch while sitting in front of the TV, my mind slowly slipping away. I was in my sweatpants without a shirt, ready for bed but too lazy to actually get up and walk into my bedroom.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her figure emerge into the darkness. Her body was highlighted by the light of the TV, becoming brighter the farther she moved into the room. Then she stilled when she knew I saw her.
I sat up on the couch and looked directly at her. “I told you not to come up here.”
“I wanted to talk to you.” She moved in front of me, blocking the TV behind her.
“You can talk to me all you want—downstairs.” I grabbed the remote and turned off the screen.
“I tried, but you just walk away—”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you.” I threw the remote down and got to my feet, leaving my glass of scotch on the table to be finished tomorrow morning. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”
She didn’t move.
The longer I stared at her, the angrier I became. I didn’t like her in my space. I didn’t like her walking up here like she had every right to do whatever she wanted. Whenever I was kind to her, she pushed me for more.
“Do you really want to do this for the rest of our lives?”
I stared at her blankly.
“Because I don’t.”
The silence suddenly became louder, like a buzzing in my ears, but her words had so much weight…and I didn’t understand them. “Do what?”
Her eyes changed, like she was surprised I didn’t understand her riddles. “You need to forgive me, Magnus.”
My body tensed all over.
“Let it go.”
I took a breath, my nostrils burning as the air rushed out like hot smoke.
“The entire reason you feel this way about me is because I care about people. You saved me because I didn’t deserve damnation. Going back and trying to liberate the women I left behind is completely in my character, so you weren’t surprised. I’m sorry that it complicated your life, turned everyone against you, but let’s not forget what the situation is here.” She stepped closer to me. “You work at a camp that enslaves innocent people…and I’m an innocent person. To assume I wouldn’t try my hardest to help those women is naïve. I stand by what I did, and I would do it again…and you respect me for it.”
Flashbacks of that night came back to me, the smoke that rose into the nighttime sky, the screams from the women as they fled, the shouts of the guards as they tried to get to the fire extinguishers in one of the cabins that was already in flames.
“You need to forgive me, just as I’ve forgiven you.”
“Forgiven me?” I whispered. “For what?”
“For being part of such a heinous operation.”
“I didn’t ask you to forgive me—”
“But I do. Because I see who you really are, Magnus. I know you’re a good man who would never hurt anybody. You’re just in a bad situation, for reasons I don’t understand because you won’t share them with me.”
My hands moved to my hips, and I stared at her in my upstairs parlor, seeing the way her emotional eyes pierced into me as if she demanded something from me. “What do you want from me?”
There she stood in her little shorts and top, her hair pulled over one shoulder, looking at me like she never looked at anybody else. Her expression was full of sheathed affection, as if I were a person who meant the world to her. It was similar to the way she looked at her sister, but with more substance. “I want you to let it go. Because if this is going to be our lives for…the foreseeable future…I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want my face pressed against the bedroom wall so we don’t touch. I don’t want you to snap at me every other second. I don’t want you to lock me up because you think I’m going to run and get you killed. I want…us.”
Maybe she had no idea I’d stood right outside the bedroom door and heard the entire conversation between her and her sister. I knew exactly what she wanted, but I hadn’t given it to her because I was so furious at the way she’d betrayed me. But it was getting more difficult to hold on to my anger…especially when I believed every word she said. I fell right back into the place I used to be. “I’m not going to let you go, no matter what we are.”
“I-I didn’t expect you to.” Her emotional voice broke with sincerity. “I know you can’t.”
My hands left my hips and hung at my sides. The lights along the walls were dimmed, so while the room was dark, they were still bright enough to cast a glow that distinguished her beautiful features, her high cheekbones, her kissable lips, her starlike eyes.
She came closer to me. “The last time we saw each other outside my apartment, it was so hard to watch you go. I’ve never felt pain like that…like I was losing a piece of me that would leave me crippled until I got it back.” She looked up into my face, open like the centerfold of a book, letting me read every page in any order I wished. “The time I lived in Paris with Melanie, there was never anyone else…because none of them were ever right. I’d go on a date, see your face, and then go home…alone. I’ve never, in my life, had a connection like this with a man…and I miss you.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment, steeling the emotions that flew out of her heart as well as her mouth. She looked at me again. “Please let it go…and be with me.”
There was an initial jolt of anger because I wanted to hold on to my bitterness because it was all I’d had to survive these last few months. Sometimes it was easier to suffer the world angry than calm. It was a defense mechanism, and I was angry all the time, had always been angry…since I could remember. But this woman made me different, brought me back to an innocence I hadn’t known in over a decade. She brought out the best in me, made me risk everything for the first time in my life, and she saw all my flaws but never forgot my good qualities.
Her hands reached to my arms, her fingers giving me an affectionate squeeze. “Let it go…”
The sound of her gentle voice released the tension in all the muscles of my body. She was the light that led out of my prison, and I slowly followed it until I reached the world outside…and it was beautiful.
My hands left my sides and moved around her waist, wrapping around her possessively, my skin burning when I finally got to touch her the way I wanted. They locked in place as I crushed her against me, my mouth finding hers and giving her the kiss I’d wanted to give every single time I looked at her lips. I pulled her tighter once I felt our bodies come together, my lips pausing to breathe.
Her hands slid up my arms until they stopped. She pulled away slightly and looked at my mouth, breathing hard even though I’d only kissed her once, an embrace that ended as quickly as it began. Then she moved into me abruptly, her arms hooking around my neck to bring me back to her, anxious to kiss me again. “Magnus…”
The resentment and rage fell from my body as I kissed the lips I’d never stopped thinking about. They were full and so soft. I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth before I came back to her and gave her my tongue this time.
Hers greeted me with a sexy swipe, a hot breath.
My hand left her back and moved into her hair, digging underneath the curls, and I suppo
rted the back of her head as I crushed her lips to mine. My hand covered both her cheeks, and I dug my fingers into both sides, feeling her petite size in my grasp. The longer I touched her, the more the ice thawed in my extremities, and the passion leaped to life like a burning hearth that just had another log thrown on top.
But her desire was even greater than mine. She cupped my cheek as she kissed me, devouring my mouth like she needed to pack in every kiss to make up for all the ones we missed. Her fingers moved up the back of my neck and into my hair, pulling on the strands as she kept my mouth on hers.
Both of my hands moved to her ass, and I lifted her into me, our faces level so she could continue to kiss me as I carried her into my bedroom. Her hands were still in my hair, and she breathed against my mouth like she was the one doing all the lifting.
I got her on the edge of the bed and pulled down her shorts and panties in one swoop. She used to have hair between her legs, but now it was shaved clean. Hair or no hair, it didn’t matter to me. But I liked seeing her in greater detail than before.
She pulled her tank top over her head and revealed her perky tits underneath. They were full, round, beautiful. Her nipples were hard as if she was cold, when this room was already an inferno.
My shirt was pulled over my head, and I watched her reaction to me, like she liked my ripped physique, liked the sight of my two hard pecs and the valleys and grooves of my abs. Her brown hair was behind her on the bed, and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed through her desire. Her pale cheeks were flushed with heat, and her eyes were so anxious, like she wanted this more than I did, like she wanted me inside her as soon as possible so she could finally feel better.
I dropped my sweatpants and boxers, my cock hard and more anxious than her hungry kisses. There was a slight drop in heat because I knew there would be a reaction to the change in my body.
But it was dark, and she was so deep in the moment she didn’t notice.
I moved on top of her, pressing her into the mattress and the sheets that I’d left a mess when I’d woken up that morning. My heavy body pressed her beneath me, and I looked at her, seeing a woman who had never wanted me more.