Watch Me

by Ada Frost

  “I know. Drink?” he said walking through the open spaced lounge - not that a sofa constitutes a living space, but I guess that’s where uptight Lawson relaxed. The kitchen was as immaculate as the rest of the house. White gloss cabinets and black worktops with no accessories other that a coffee machine and kettle.

  “Is he colour blind?”

  “Huh?”

  “Why is everywhere black, white, or freaking grey? Or does his compulsiveness stretch to mismatched colours too?”

  Sam chuckled a deep throaty sound. “He says it’s clean.”

  “So is bleach, but I don’t wear it as eau to toilette.”

  Sam threw his head back and laughed loudly, the corners of my mouth tipped up, and the disasters of the night didn’t seem so bad anymore.

  Lawson’s house appeared massive, but it was like wandering through a newly built house that waited for its very first occupants. There was nothing personal, no human stamp on any of it.

  “It’s so cold,” I uttered.

  “I can put the heating on.”

  “How does he live like this?”

  “He’s happy here, relaxed.”

  “You’re kidding?” I asked glancing around at the empty space. He didn’t even have any photographs.

  “This is who he is. He acts like an arsehole, but he’s one of the best men I know. It’s rare for him to let people into his life. He spends Christmas with Marie. She was his childminder growing up, and she has a daughter. But other than those two, he’s pretty much alone.”

  “Seems such a cold existence. But after tonight I wonder if it’s better that way.”

  “Drunk Lawson is someone I don’t know. That isn’t him. I’ve only ever seen him drunk once before and that didn’t end well.” Sam pointed toward the stairs as if Lawson was standing there.

  “Why did you place a bet on me?” I couldn’t avoid asking him any longer. The words had been bubbling inside me.

  After pouring two glasses of wine that he’d gotten from the fridge, Sam motioned for us to go back through to the couch. I was beginning to lose my patience with him avoiding my question. Kicking my shoes off, I tucked my legs under my bottom and tried to stop the slit in my dress from gaping open, but it was futile, so I gave up. I rested my head on the back of the sofa and stared at him, waiting for an explanation. Sam sat beside me and sipped at his wine.

  “I initiated the bet. I goaded him into it. To be honest, Abby, the bet was when you first started. I was teasing him. It wasn’t something serious. I think the drink is to blame on him bringing it up.”

  “Why would you even suggest it?” I queried, hating the quivering in my voice. But shit, it hurt Sam would do this.

  “The man was going to explode if he didn’t fuck you.”

  I wasn’t expecting that kind of bluntness.

  “I bet him a grand that he’d be begging for your pussy before the month was out.”

  “What?” I choked. Did I really come across as being so easy?

  “He said it would never happen. He never shags the staff. Ever. But he’s never been as tightly wound up about a staff member...or any woman for that matter. I don’t know what appeals to him so much.”

  “Well, gee thanks, Sam. Munter over here is all flattered and shit,” I huffed, but my grin gave it away that I wasn’t really angry. A little stung but Sam was used to seeing stunning women all day. I wasn’t ugly, more ordinary compared to the actresses.

  “You know what I mean. You’re gorgeous, you know you are. But we see gorgeous every day. He seems immune to anything remotely attractive. He’s a stickler, he’s a blunt bastard and incredibly socially awkward. But he’s an amazing businessman who cares deeply for the health and safety of his staff. You, Abby, brought every bad quality out in him the first day, and initially I assumed he was just being a cunt because he didn’t like you.”

  “Oh God, don’t give me that bullshit about he pulls your hair because he likes you. Being a dick just means one thing – you are a dick.”

  Sam chuckled. “True. Lawson is desperate to push you away. He really isn’t trying to get your attention; he’s trying his damndest to get rid of you.”

  Strange that he’d pursued me on more than one occasion and made dirty with my lady parts.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re testing his self-control.”

  “So you wanted him to fuck me?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow at him. Because to me that was the most absurd idea I’d ever heard.

  “We all want to fuck you, Abby. I can’t lie about that. If my man up there didn’t get a boner every time you bent over your desk or when you suck on the tip of your biro, then yeah, I’d be trying real hard to get you out of those knickers. But the day in the casting room, he really would have ripped me apart if I’d kissed you. Lawson doesn’t claim women; he could care less what I do with them when he’s there. He’s watched me fuck more women than I can count, that’s his thing. But he has never, and I mean never, stopped me from kissing them before. Your mouth is his. Even today he possessed you.” The low husky note to his voice had goose bumps peppering my arms, and shivers raced up my spine.

  “What about Brie? Are there limits with her, he said she was special?”

  Sam pressed his thumb to my bottom lip. “You don’t get to ask about her. Not when we’re talking about sex.” Something in his gaze warned me not to pursue the issue.

  “How did all that start, with you two?”

  “We were dumb kids. We grabbed a bottle of his dad’s booze, drank the lot, and fell asleep in bed together. We woke up to some woman sucking him off. I guess that was the first time. I mean, that time ended in disaster. For a few days it was weird, but strangely, we both admitted we got a kick out of it. So when I fucked a girl he watched, and I guess you could say it started then.”

  “What about you two? The kissing and stuff?”

  “I enjoy him. And I love how women react to it.”

  “Is that why you shared me?”

  “Yes. But I admit I wanted you the moment I heard you giving lip to Lawson. The bastard beat me to you though.”

  I moved closer, moving my face so my cheek brushed against his hand that was resting across the back of the couch.

  “What if he isn’t who I want?” I licked my bottom lip, tasting the crisp champagne lingering there.

  Sam lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. He pressed his forehead to mine and gazed down at my mouth. The thick blunt tip of his thumb pressed against my lips. “You have chosen already. You just refuse to accept it. And I am definitely not the lucky man.”

  “Why, because I’ve had sex with him?”

  “No, because you’re both electric together. You both spark when you meet. That’s rare.”

  “Pff, I think you’ve had too much to drink, Sam.”

  “I want nothing more right now than to fuck this mouth. There are so many dirty things I want to do to this body of yours, but none of it is worth losing Lawson. This belongs to him. I refuse to take another man’s property.”

  I pushed at his chest, annoyed by his words.

  “I don’t belong to anyone. Certainly not him.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” a voice said from above us. I craned my neck back to peer up at the mostly naked man.

  “I am not some frigging sex toy you two can toss between you,” I yelped because Sam all but dived at me and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me down to lay over him, my body flush against his.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked, with a fire in his eyes I hadn’t seen in him before. He pressed large palms against my lower back, causing my pussy to align with a very hard erection. “He gives the word, and I’d have this dress in shreds on the floor and my dick inside you.”

  I fisted my hands in his shirt, intending to push away from him, but I found myself clinging to him. My nipples were super sensitive against the silk of my dress. I stared down into his face and rolled my hips against him. He closed his eyelids and released an erotic
groan.

  “Why don’t you?” I whispered, leaning forward and nipping at his chin. The stubble scraping against my lips.

  “Yes. Why don’t you?” Lawson slurred. I lifted my head, glancing up at Lawson, who was a whisper away from me. He swayed slightly. He was naked apart from a watch and white tight, trunks that hid absolutely nothing. I stared up into his eyes, fanned with super black lashes. His lips parted, and his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip.

  Sam lifted his head, cupped the back of my head, and sucked on my neck, kissing and licking a sensuous path down my skin. I moaned and gripped at his shirt tighter. Sam’s hand pulled at the fabric of my skirt bunching it up my legs to expose my naked arse, and squeezed the round globe of my cheek in his hand. I hadn’t taken my eyes from Lawson, who stared adamantly back at me.

  He lifted his hand and glanced at his watch. “It’s not a challenge when it’s offered freely. I’m bored of easy pussy. Please clean the couch when you leave,” he groused, slurring his words before heading back to the stairs. I froze, my body went so rigid that with the slightest force I was sure I would snap.

  “Mother fucker.” Sam called.

  “Did he...” I paused. The anger started to take root and fester inside of me watching Lawson stumble his way back up the stairs. I scrambled off Sam’s body in a rather unladylike manner and righted my dress from being stuck around my crack. “Did he...” I started again but words failed me. I fisted my hands at my sides and glared as he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs

  Sam remained silent.

  I opened my mouth to talk again but decided against it and marched toward the bottom of the stairs. I wasn’t having either of these egotistical arseholes thinking just because they paid me a wage they could treat me like a fucking whore. I stomped up the stairs. Trying to make a lot of noise. A difficult task with bare feet.

  “I wish I’d put my shoes back on,” I muttered to myself. At Lawson's room, I threw open the door, letting it bang against the wall. A small sense of victory warmed me when the noise echoed loudly around the sparsely decorated room. Lawson lounged on the bed, one leg bent, the other partly hidden by the black silky sheet as his hand positioned over his cock. Tossed beside the bed were his white trunks.

  “You...” I stuttered to a stop, noting the wonderful tent beneath the sheet. That’s when I allowed my eyes to take in and greedily accept the vision before me. Lawson Stone had a body to salivate over. Beautiful broad shoulders, long lean legs and perfect abs.

  “Would you like to watch me pleasure myself, or are you going to get the fuck out?” he snapped. The cocky as shit grin on his face ignited a fire inside me I had no idea I possessed. I would have climbed onto the bed and scratched his eyes out if I could move. But I was so turned on, and bloody angry I could only stand shaking in his doorway.

  “You’re a...” I pointed my finger when words failed me. “I am not your fucking possession, you wanker. If I want to fuck Sam, I damn well can. You can’t stop me,” I screamed at him. “I work for you, period. You don’t own me,” I yelped when my last words died in my throat. A very large, very naked man dived out of bed and came at me. I held my hands out between us, but he grabbed my wrists and with the momentum of his body pushed me flush to the door with my hands caught behind my back. His body pressed into mine. His thick erection pushed insistently against my stomach.

  “I intend to own you, Miss Warner. You are mine. Not eight hours ago I was balls deep inside you. You were calling my name as I fucked you. You said you wanted to be my woman.”

  “It was sex, nothing more.” I breathed, hating the longing in my voice.

  “Fight, little bird, but I will tame you. Your body doesn’t lie.”

  “Fuck —” My words were swallowed as his mouth claimed mine. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a branding. Lawson was staking his claim. I fought against his hold on my wrists, expecting him to fight back, but he simply released me and pressed his body harder against mine. His hands gripped my hips in a possessive hold.

  His tongue battled with mine. It was a duel of power. I wanted so much to admit defeat, but my pride was being a prick.

  “Let me have you, give me everything,” he whispered before nipping my lip between his teeth. I sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden sting. I wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the taut muscles in his back before digging my nails into his flesh. He hissed out in pain and glared down at me.

  “You have claws, Miss Warner.”

  “I will use them too, if you don’t let me go,” I said against his lips.

  “Why do I think it would be worth the pain?”

  He stared at me a moment longer, his expression pained. His eyes were a clear window, and for the first time since meeting Lawson, I saw fear in his gaze. The fierce bravado of confidence was completely gone and left behind was something akin to loneliness. That lasted a split moment before his hard shell fell into place, and he released his hold on me and stepped back. He made no move to cover himself, and the temptation to look down was killing me. I was desperate to see him, the entirety of him. I refused to give him the satisfaction. The dare was there in his eyes to see. He was bating me, testing my control.

  “You’re not irresistible, Stone. I don’t even like you. Yeah, I find you attractive, we’ve fucked a handful of times, but you’re ugly on the inside, and no amount of pretty on the outside can change that.”

  My words appeared to have the same effect as a physical blow. He stepped back, looking agonised. Lawson turned and moved closer to the bed and grabbed the sheet, tying it around his waist. The brief view of his magnificent back and perfect arse had me wanting to suck those words back in and worship his body.

  “You may leave now,” he snarled as he turned around, the sheet fastened around his waist. And his composure just as securely in place.

  “What?”

  “If you’re to be of no use to me, you may leave.” He motioned toward the door with his arm. I opened my mouth to argue, to spit some hurtful retort back, but nothing would come. Nothing but the irritating sting of tears in my eyes or the tightening of my throat. There was one thing I refused to let him see, and that was my tears. So I turned and raced down the stairs and out of the front door. The cold concrete beneath my feet was a shock, but I refused to re-enter the house for my shoes. I was so happy I’d left my bag in the back of the car. The driver of the limousine was still waiting outside, and when he spotted me, he got out of the car and opened the rear door as I raced across the driveway, wincing as small pebbles stuck into my bare feet. I dived into the car, muttering a thank you. Just as the driver got back into his seat, Sam opened the front door to the house.

  “Leave, now. Immediately,” I demanded to the driver. I breathed a sigh of relief when the car started to move before Sam even took a step.

  When I arrived home, I walked in the door, and that’s when I cried. The dark, cold loneliness of my home and the frostiness of Lawson’s final rebuff overwhelmed me. I made my way to my bedroom and crawled into bed without taking my dress off. I huddled under the mountain of blankets and sobbed.

  “I’m trying so hard to make you proud, Mum, but I’m failing so epically right now,” I choked. “Help me. Please, Mum, help me.” I sobbed until the pain was so intense I could barely breathe. There was nothing like mum’s hugs to heal a broken heart.

  Mum had taught me never to rely on other people for my own happiness, but to seek it in the happiness of surviving each day on my own accomplishments. Nothing I was doing lately was an accomplishment. I was drowning, and there was no one paying attention to rescue me. A smile or a laugh was the perfect shield to hide my pain. I was dying inside but I still held a smile. That was the problem with shells, unless someone was willing to crack the outer hardness, they would never find the vulnerable softness inside.

  “I’m so sorry, Mum.” I curled in a ball and cried myself to sleep.

  I rolled over in bed and groaned long and painfully into my pillow. My head was ki
lling me, my mouth felt like I’d been licking sandpaper, and my stomach gurgled. I hated, more than anything, to be sick. Vomiting was the worst thing in the world. All those bodily fluids and germs.

  “Ugh.” I grimaced.

  “Ah, it lives,” mused an irritating voice from beside me. I turned my head away from the pillow, immediately regretting it when the smell of bacon permeated the air.

  “You better not be eating in my bedroom, Samuel.”

  “You’re in no state to stop me. Besides, I brought you tea, dear.”

  The bed rocked as he settled himself beside me.

  “I’m dying.”

  “It’s the champagne. It’s a fucker,” he said around a mouthful of food.

  “Don’t get crumbs in my bed.”

  “You can’t be that ill if you’re still a pansy-arse about mess.”

  “Fuck off,” I grumbled, pulling the quilt over my head.

  “Do you want your tea?” he asked, shifting beside me. I paused a moment before moving out from under the warmth and darkness of the quilt and sitting up. Using the pillows to prop me against the headboard. Samuel was shirtless, wearing only his trousers from last night. He handed me a bottle of water and some pain pills, which I gladly accepted, and then he handed me a mug of tea. I took a small sip, not entirely sure my stomach would handle it.

  Samuel chewed away. I knew something was brewing, it was like the cogs in his brain were gearing up for something epic. I refused to speak, because that would only add fuel to his ramblings. He lifted the TV remote and switched it on.

  “Do you fancy a DVD marathon, seeing as you’re nearing the end of your days?”

  “You could have stopped me,” I argued.

  “Nah, it was too much fun to watch. It’s been a while since I saw shit faced Lawson. At least this time you didn’t throw up on me.”

  “Hmm…. missed out on the blow job too.”

  “Well, whose fucking fault is that, you cock blocking bastard?”

  I groaned and closed my eyes. I’d walked into that one.

  “My dad has signed up for a reality TV show. How messed up is that? We’re going to have to be careful of any leaks.”