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The Terms 2

Page 4

by Ruby Rowe

Grabbing the bar of soap, I scrub my body briskly, determined to ease my anxiousness. My cock is semi-erect, but I refuse to jerk off when I have a gorgeous woman across the hall.

  This isn’t helping me in the least, so I rinse, grab a towel from the rack and stroll back to my bedroom.

  “I’m sorry for earlier,” Camilla says from my bed in the darkness. Her voice is timid and sweet, and I’m standing still, unsure of how to proceed.

  Briefs. Yeah, underwear between us is necessary so I don’t fuck this up again. I find my way to my dresser and pull open the drawer.

  “No. Please come to bed and make love to me … or fuck me hard. I’ll leave it up to you.”

  My towel hits the floor, and I stalk over to her.

  “I’m turning the light on,” I say before I hit the switch to the one on my nightstand. Her arm covers her eyes, but as she slowly brings it down, her gaze lingers on my cock, making me harder than ever.

  Moving over top of her, I cage her in with my arms. Her hair is a thick mess of waves, like I’ve already fucked her, and as she stares up at me all doe-eyed, I soak up the sight of her.

  “Let’s see if you’re doing this for me or for the both of us.” Lowering my body, I push her nighty up above her tits. As I skim my fingertips down her stomach, she squirms, her hips moving beneath me. “Stay. Still.”

  I slide them down her slit next and tease her nipple with my tongue. She taunts me back with an alluring whimper and starts to move again, but she stops herself in an instant. “Compliant”–I slip two fingers inside her pussy–“and wet. That means you want this, too.”

  Nodding, she brings her hand up and traces my jaw like she did earlier in the night. Her finger grazes the slope of my crooked nose before her thumb presses into the deep cleft of my chin.

  She appraises my harsh features often, which is perplexing. I’m not the pretty boy my brother was, but Camilla seems to revel in my looks.

  “Why the word marshmallow?” I move my fingers languidly in and out of her, drawing her closer to the brink. She pants to get her breath enough to speak.

  “In the kitchen, the first night we had sex, I was watching you hold that fork and marshmallow. You were grinning and joking and had been so sweet to Liam, reading to him.

  “I realized then how complicated this would become. How hurt I could end up.” She closes her eyes and gasps from the feel of my fingers working her over.

  “At that moment, I thought I should say stop and then flee as fast as possible, but you were mesmerizing. I couldn’t run away then any more than I can now.”

  Grabbing my arms, she clenches them, her fingernails digging into my biceps. She’s close to an orgasm, but I won’t let her come. I want to feel her squeezing my cock first before I’m forced to pull it out of her.

  Removing my fingers from her tight pussy, I push one of her legs up until her knee touches her chest. I drive into her, and she releases a trill of satisfaction, so I pull back and do it again.

  “Christ, baby, I love being inside you.” I move faster, deeper, harder until she cries out my name. “Come, my Rose.”

  My own release hits me without warning, so I drop her leg and manage to pull my cock out just in time to shoot my load onto her stomach.

  Damn, seeing her flushed and sated with my cum all over her skin is erotic as hell. I’m still claiming her, only differently, and I can’t say it’s all that bad. Well, it won’t be on occasion.

  Pressing our bodies together, I kiss my way down her neck and inhale her sweet and addictive fragrance. I need the name of the perfume she wears so I can buy it in bulk. I envision the boxes being delivered now, and I’m wondering when I lost my damn mind.

  This woman causes me to do illogical things. I forced her to live in my home, and I undermined her attempt at getting birth control. She and Liam turned my world upside down, so I’m blaming them.

  I have a hideous child-proof gate a mile long at the top of my staircase, crumbs under my dining room table and sticky fingerprints all over my home.

  I read bedtime stories to my brother’s child who I want the world to think is mine. I want Liam to think he’s mine. What happened to the Ellis I knew all my life?

  “Your scent makes me irrational,” I mumble as I skim my nose along her chest. “No, everything about you makes me irrational.”

  The satin fabric of her lingerie sticks to my damp skin, and I experience déjà vu again. I raise up to stare at her hazel eyes. She’s relaxed and sleepy now, so they open and close … open and close.

  “So, what is your name, Lady in Red?”

  “Let’s keep this night a mystery,” she mumbles.

  Feeling as if I’ve been throat punched, I lose my breath while I’m teleported back in time. Like the beach at Normandy on D-Day, my mind is trampled with memories from the night at Tony’s party: Camilla entering the room, her bashful smile, and her sensuous body in silky lingerie.

  I recall her sitting next to me on the bed and handing me a bottle of champagne.

  Fuck, I met her that night.

  Camilla is the lady in red.

  I blink several times, thinking it can’t be true. Beneath me, her eyes are closed, her breathing slow but heavy. She’s asleep.

  Climbing off her and the bed, I find a pair of pajama pants and quietly leave my room. I head to my office, my place of reprieve, and shut the door.

  As I pace, I try to summon more memories from that night, but I’m drawing a blank past the point of us drinking together. When was that party? The fall I believe. September or October three years ago. No, maybe it was four. Dammit. I rub my forehead.

  Tony was celebrating a business deal he’d scored and insisted I come. I showed up to find strippers and way too many guests. The music was loud, alcohol and drugs were abundant, and I wanted the hell out of there.

  My brother gave me several drinks to calm me, and before I knew it, I was hiding out in a spare bedroom, only because he begged me not to leave yet.

  I know Camilla wasn’t there the next morning. I stumbled to the bathroom and then left before finding Tony, figuring he was passed out with a woman in his bed, anyhow.

  God, all this time Camilla has been sparing me the embarrassment of being drunk with her in that bedroom. I likely said stupid shit before I passed out. Wait–I know what I said. It’s what I dreamed earlier last night….

  I mentioned her looking good in red and how it matched her hair. We were both dizzy, so I think I suggested she lie down with me.

  What happened after that? Did I pass out then? Shit, she was probably dating my brother at that point, and I was hitting on her … feeling her up.

  I bet she didn’t tell me at the funeral home that we’d met because she didn’t want me to find out about Liam. Then, after she moved in, I imagine she didn’t want to admit she’d lied about that, too.

  This is too much to process. Coming to a stop, I press my palms to my eyes. Meeting Camilla at that party is the reason I was drawn to her when I saw her again at the funeral visitation.

  Somewhere in my mind, I held on to her beauty and kindness, and maybe I’ve had the dream all this time because the control freak in me needed to remember that night.

  I strive to be aware of every aspect of my life, and at that party, I was the furthest from feeling in control.

  Should I mention this to her? I’m humiliated she saw me in an inebriated state, but on the other hand, I want all the pieces to the puzzle.

  I also don’t want her to carry guilt for a secret she doesn’t need to keep. The woman has class, sparing me the humiliation all this time. My Rose deserves another reward.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Camilla

  I inhale the aroma of the wine-colored roses on my dresser. Vases of them are resting on every available spot in my bedroom.

  I point to each and count. Eight dozen to be exact. If I had to guess, there are more on display throughout the house. I’m not sure what I did to deserve them, but they’re lovely.

 
; I can’t wait to thank Ellis, but I need my earrings in first before I’m ready to attend the fundraising gala tonight. Once my ensemble’s complete, I put my hand over my stomach.

  I’m such a wreck, yet I’m excited, too. I love anything involving charity work, and this event is to raise money for Ellis’s mother’s literacy program.

  The funding pays for teachers to work at after-school programs, where they help children learn to read while they’re waiting to be picked up for the day.

  Tony’s finest collection of paintings will be auctioned. Like his brother, Ellis appreciates the arts and has paintings hung throughout the house.

  There’s a knock on my door, and I’m sure it’s him.

  “Come in.” Upon opening it, he stops abruptly. His Adam’s apple bobs as his eyes travel over my body.

  “Shit,” he utters through gritted teeth. I glance down at my dress before I take a glimpse of myself in the mirror above my dresser.

  “I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to wear the scarlet dress, but this ivory one is more appropriate for spring, and I really don’t wish to stand out in that bold color—”

  “Camilla,” he says slowly, hanging on to every syllable.

  “What is it? Do I not look elegant enough?” I tug on the teardrop diamond earrings Ellis gave me this morning. “I’m already nervous and self-conscious, so say something.”

  Strolling over, he cups my cheeks and gives me a gentle kiss before he lowers his head to rest on mine.

  “Shut up, you stunning woman. I said shit because I didn’t think of the consequences of you appearing this gorgeous in the presence of males who will undoubtedly hit on you.”

  Exhaling the breath I was holding, I press my palms against his firm chest beneath a black tux.

  “I could say the same about you.”

  He leans back and smiles. “I certainly hope no men hit on me, seeing how I’m straight.”

  “And taken.” I blush from declaring he’s mine.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “I do, too, Sir.”

  His lips land on mine again. “Sir … that one word is all I need to hear to get hard for you,” he mumbles against them. Reaching in his tux pocket, he pulls out the ruby necklace I wear in the playroom. “I have one request; I’d like you to wear this tonight. It still matches the gown you chose.”

  Nodding, I turn my back to him. He drapes it over my neck, and as he secures the clasp, my body trembles. His hands slide down my arms, and his mouth skirts along the bare skin of my neck and shoulder.

  “If I didn’t wish to admire you in this dress all evening, I’d take you to our hideaway this instant.”

  “I hope it happens soon, Sir.”

  “Oh, it will,” he breathes in my ear. “That I promise you. And the pleasure I’m going to deliver will make you forget the word marshmallow.”

  ***

  “You’re fidgety. I need you to be the calm one,” Ellis says as Fletcher drives us to the gala.

  “It’s my first time at something like this, and I’m meeting your family. I’m sorry, but serenity is not at the forefront. What do I say if someone asks about my past or what I do for a living?”

  Ellis grasps my hand between us.

  “Tell them you’re from South Carolina and working on your master’s. Give them some truth but not the whole truth. It’s a game to them, so don’t make it easy.”

  “OK, but I don’t know the rules of the game. What if they ask where I live?”

  “Tell them you live with me.”

  “You don’t mind if I drop that bombshell?” Bringing my hand up, he kisses it.

  “Take a deep breath, Camilla. Once my parents know they have a grandchild, everyone will find out, so it’s fine to say we live together. I’d prefer people think I’m in Liam’s life every day, as opposed to some every-other-weekend arrangement.

  “I’ll be right by your side, so I’ll fill in the gaps. The guests will be so enthralled by your beauty, they’ll be too busy building themselves up so as not to feel inferior. Trust me; they’ll mostly talk about themselves.”

  I sigh with relief and lean my head against his shoulder in a way that won’t mess up my updo. Once Ellis surprised me with my earrings this morning, I was whisked off to a salon where I was given the royal treatment from head to toe.

  I was served champagne while I received a mani-pedi, and then my hair was pinned up into a loose style of curls and braids. I’ve never experienced such pampering.

  “Thank you for everything today. I’m excited.” I grin as I admire my evening gown. The empire dress reaches my ankles, yet the thin material leaves much to the imagination.

  The entire ivory fabric is adorned with beading, lace and tiny pearls, especially the bodice that’s more intricately detailed. The delicate cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline make me appear younger, and the dress has a romantic feel.

  I love everything about it and wish so much that Sasha could see me in it. Although, I doubt she’d give me the response I’d like right now.

  She’s frustrated over her stay at Passages and is threatening to leave. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate the generous help she was given, but the affluent environment is foreign to her.

  I’m beginning to wonder if more isn’t better in her case. She’s not accustomed to receiving massages or having chefs prepare her meals.

  She’s never rubbed elbows with celebrities, yet she’s hearing their darkest secrets and sharing with them her own.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up on our doorstep soon, but I don’t want Ellis aggravated by the possibility, so I’ll keep that worry to myself.

  The Mercedes pulls up in front of the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. Releasing my hand, Ellis rubs his palms on his knees, leans his head back against the seat and begins breathing harshly.

  “Fuck, I hate attending pretentious shit like this.”

  Brushing my fingers along his hair, I smile.

  “Imagine you’re taking me out on a lavish first date, and the others are simply guests we don’t know.”

  Turning to me, he clasps my chin, and his warm breath comforts me.

  “Damn, in all this time, I’ve not taken you anywhere.”

  “Ellis, you’ve brought more excitement to my life than I ever could’ve imagined. It doesn’t matter the place. Besides, I think today makes up for our lack of outings.”

  “Let’s do this. I want everyone to see how spectacular you are.”

  Ellis

  I’m clutching Camilla’s hand harder than I should be. How did I ever walk into one of these functions without her? I’m ashamed it’s so difficult for me.

  I’m a successful, wealthy man, who for reasons unbeknownst to me, women find attractive. I also have a gorgeous woman on my arm tonight, so why does it stress me out to be amongst this crowd?

  Loosening my grip on Camilla’s hand, I feel her fingers tremble against mine, so I slide my arm along her back and lead her in the direction of one of the bars. She’s got to relax so I can. I’d love a drink right now, but I don’t trust myself to stop at one.

  While we wait for Camilla’s glass of wine, my eyes canvass the room. I purposely arrived last minute so that we’ll soon have to take our seats at the table. The less mingling the better.

  Someone clasps my shoulder from behind, so I flinch.

  “Relax, cuz, it’s only me,” Greyson says before he comes up beside me. “Although, I will say Aunt Estella has already cornered me twice regarding your whereabouts.”

  I roll my eyes. My mother would be waiting impatiently. Camilla turns and smiles.

  “Greyson, it’s so nice to see a familiar face.”

  “It’s great to see you again. I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world,” he adds with a clipped laugh before he takes a drink from his glass.

  “Why is that funny?” she asks.

  “Uh, there’s just a lot of entertainment at these functions.” Noticing who’s walking toward us, I le
an in to him. “Whitney at one o’clock.”

  “Dammit, I haven’t had enough drinks to tolerate her.”

  Whitney Peterson’s perfectly plucked eyebrows lift as she gets closer. She’s long forgotten about Greyson as she sizes up Camilla.

  “Ellis … Greyson,” she says while smiling at my girl. “Who do we have here?”

  “Whitney, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Camilla Rose.” She holds her hand out like Camilla’s supposed to kiss it. She instead shakes it more than Whitney would like.

  “Camilla, this is a family friend, Whitney Peterson.”

  “Soon to be family, once Greyson here makes an honest woman out of me. It’s nice to meet you. Hmm …” She covers her chest with her hand. “Oh, my gosh, are you related to the late cellist Leonard Rose?” She’s exuding excitement that’s genuine since this is an opener for her to brag.

  “No, there’s no relation.”

  Whitney’s eyes dart between Greyson’s and Camilla’s.

  “I don’t know if Greyson told you, but I’m a gifted cello player for the Colorado Symphony.” Her fingers lightly brush back her strawberry-blond hair. “Have you ever attended the symphony at Boettcher Hall?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

  Whitney swats my shoulder. “Ellis, you must take her.” Not waiting for my response, she taps Greyson’s nose and frowns. “Sweetie, my parents are insisting I sit with them this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Nope.” He stares her down until she’s uncomfortable.

  “Well, find me after. Camilla, it was nice meeting you, and make this recluse take you to the symphony to hear me play.”

  “Of course. Take care,” Camilla replies. Once Whitney strolls off, Greyson shakes his head.

  “Be sure Ellis points out the piranhas before they get the chance to sink their teeth in you. They’re not only found in the Amazon basin and can now miraculously walk on land.”

  Looking puzzled, Camilla says, “But she implied you’re a couple.”

  “The key word there–implied.” Holding his glass up and discovering it’s empty, he excuses himself.

 

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