Beast's Castle

by Ella Goode

  Now that the rooms are occupied, I need to turn the cameras off and I will—in a minute. I’m just doing a safety scan right now, and if my gaze lingers on the shapely curves under the blankets too long it can’t be helped. My physical attraction to Summer isn’t something I can control.

  I give her one last look before turning off the cameras. I really need her gone before I do something even worse than invading her privacy. If she’s going to leave, then it doesn’t make any sense to renovate the maid’s quarters—not when I have seven other bedrooms in this house. Until she quits, she can stay in the west wing. There are three bedrooms over there, all with attached bathrooms. One of them has a sitting room attached where we could put a bed for Colby. Plus that room is yellow, which suits Summer. I like this idea.

  I pad down the hall and pass the sweeping curved staircase into the west wing. This part of the house is used about three times a year, and it shows in the layer of dust covering the side tables set against the walls. In the suite of rooms, I pull off the furniture covers and awkwardly try to dust off the tables and dressers with my T-shirt. I knock over a couple of books and then an empty crystal container before calling it quits. She’s the housekeeper. She’ll have to clean these rooms for herself.

  The bed is in good shape. At least it’s better than the floor she’s currently sleeping on. Ridiculous. Ridiculous as her cleaning till all hours of the night. Some things can be left for tomorrow.

  I lie down on the covers and think about what it would be like if she were here with me. We’d have to wait until Colby was knocked out, but then I could take her in my arms, peel off her clothes, and map her body with my tongue. After I made her come a few times, I’d snuggle her frame up against mine and fall into a deep post-nut sleep. In the morning, I’d wake her up with my mouth and my cock.

  I reach down and unzip, fisting myself. The rays of the early morning sun would kiss her skin. I’d lift her on top of me so I could watch while her pussy swallowed my shaft. I could suck on her tits and work her nipples until they were diamond hard. Maybe I’d have her stand at the edge of the bed while I pounded her from behind. There are a lot of options. But these are only fantasies. They aren’t ever coming true.

  Disgusted, I shove my dick away and zip up. I won’t be able to sleep tonight so I go down to the basement—the real reason I bought the house.

  It’s not a basement but more like a cavern. Dug deep into the earth, the lowest level of the house has fifteen-foot ceilings, a hot spring spa, and a lap pool. On the east side, under my bedroom, is my workshop. I sculpt down here using metal, marble, plaster and clay. My current project is a commission for the Tate and it’s due in three weeks, but all I’ve gotten is a metal frame. I circle the ten-foot-tall structure and then pick up my blowtorch and start welding. When I work, I usually lose track of time. The heat and sparks and sound of the fire pouring out of the torch are all that fill my head.

  Only not tonight. Tonight, all I can see is Summer—her beautiful face with the soft curve of her cheek and the gentle slope of her nose. Her lips are full and her chin stubborn. It’s a mouth made for kissing or maybe for wrapping around my cock. The metal morphs and shifts under my hands until the night turns into dawn. Stiffness in my hands puts an end to my session. I look up at the wall clock to see that it’s six in the morning.

  I pull out my phone and check the kitchen monitor. Sure enough, Summer is awake. Her hair is mussed and her eyes are heavy lidded, sleep still clinging to her. “Go back to bed, for God’s sake,” I bark into the speaker.

  She slaps a hand over her heart in shock and slumps against the counter. “W-where are you?”

  “In my workshop.”

  “Can you stop scaring me? Come and speak to me like a normal person.” She straightens and juts out that stubborn chin. The blood in my veins turns hot. I want to devour her, just eat her up from head to toe and back again.

  “That’s your first mistake.”

  “What is?”

  “Thinking that I’m a normal person.”

  8

  Summer

  “Careful,” I tell Colby when his remote control car runs into one of the bookcases. The last thing I need is for one of us to break something. Who knows how Mr. Grumpy Pants will react?

  “Sorry,” he says before he turns the car and it takes off in the other direction.

  “If you’re done, put those back in the same place you got them.” I point to the few books he’s pulled off the shelves. When we first walked into the library I told him not to touch anything. I’d been speechless for a few moments as I took it all in. I had stood there in awe.

  It’s a dream room pulled straight from a fairy tale. Every inch of the room is covered in books. The room is filled with the smell of them. I got lost for a second in my thoughts of lounging around reading each and every one of them. But I know that won’t be a reality for me, considering this is one of the rooms that’s off limits unless it’s during my cleaning hours.

  Colby muttered that he was going to have to update his map to include this room. What’s so impressive is that it’s a two-story library. The ceiling reaches over fifty feet high so you can see up to the next level. The only way up is a winding staircase. One I’ve only ever seen in a movie before. It is so breathtaking I am scared I’m going to mess something up.

  As I walked past the books, cleaning the shelves around them, I couldn’t help but finger through the titles. It felt as if it would be a waste to not enjoy the books inside of here. I picked two for myself. I’m not sure if I’ll get a chance to read them, but I’ll enjoy knowing they are there if I get the opportunity. I let Colby do the same. He laid down on one of the chaises and dug right in until he got restless and needed to burn off energy.

  He runs over, doing as I ask before going back to his remote car. I pull my phone out, hitting play on the music button since Colby isn't reading anymore, and get back to cleaning. He gives me a funny look when I start dancing, but I see the whisper of a smile on his lips. I don’t stop wiping the shelves and dancing as I go. Work doesn’t always have to feel like it’s work. Having a little fun while getting the job done never hurt anyone.

  It’s not long until he’s joining me. He tries to pretend to be a big boy, but I love these moments with him. I hate that he does it, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he thinks he needs to act more grown. When I see a moment that I can pull out the young boy he should be, I steal it. We dance until my phone rings, cutting off our fun. Colby runs back over to his car as I snag the phone off the table I laid it on.

  “Hey, Tina,” I say, watching Colby chase his car out the double doors of the library into the hallway. I linger after him.

  “How are things?” she asks.

  Oh, I don’t know. Your brother is a jerk and enjoys scaring the crap out of me. Yet, as much as he is annoying me, I get a weird thrill when I hear his deep, grumpy voice. I say none of those things out loud, though.

  “Great. This place is breathtaking,” I say instead.

  “It really is. It just needs to be brought back to life some, but that will come soon enough.” I’m not sure what that means, and I don’t ask. “Anyways, I’m calling because I got a message from my brother.” I swear I can hear her rolling her eyes. “He wants you to move out of the housekeeping quarters.” My stomach drops. Crap. He’s firing me and it’s probably because of the kitten. “He wants to have them redone.” She goes on, and my eyes starting to sting. He is throwing us out. “He wants you to move over into the west wing. There are three rooms there you can use. It doesn't have a kitchen, but you can use the main one anytime so that shouldn't be a problem.”

  I let out a relieved breath, leaning up against the wall to steady myself.

  “Okay,” I agree. I’ve cleaned that place from top to bottom of dust to make sure Colby was good. I’ll need to do the same to these new rooms. My arms still ache, but I’ll take it over being kicked out.

  “Also, he only wants you working between ten
and four.”

  “Ten and four?” I question. That doesn't sound right.

  “That’s what he said. I don’t know, but those sound like good hours to me.” She lets out a small laugh. Yeah they do if you can get your job done in that time. This place is massive and that is not enough time to clean it all.

  “I’d really like to work more if that’s okay. I'm on salary so it doesn't matter much, does it?”

  “No, but that was his request. I think it’s a silly one too, but I don’t see why you wouldn’t follow those hours.”

  “I’m not sure I can clean everything needed during that time,” I admit.

  “I’ll let him know that, but if he’s setting the hours, you can only do what you can do, and he’ll have to deal with that. After all, they’re his rules.” That is true, but my worry is about the dust that is everywhere. I flick my eyes down the hallway, watching Colby move further down it.

  “Okay,” I agree. He said I can only work those hours. He didn't say I couldn’t work every day. That’s how I’ll get around it. Tina ends the call. I glance at the time to see I need to make lunch for Colby. I head down the hallway, following the sound of his car.

  “Are you hungry?'' I ask when I catch up to him in the entryway. The curtains I opened yesterday are closed again. I reopen them, filling the room with light. It’s so much prettier this way. It brightens the place up and makes it seem cheerier when the light is shining in.

  “Yep,” Colby says. I spot a package outside. I debate if I should get it. I’ll just bring it in at least. It looks like a storm could be rolling in. I open the door, stepping out to grab it and surprised when I see my name on it. I bring it in, taking it to the kitchen with me and toss it on the counter.

  “Can I open it?” Colby asks. I nod, going to the fridge. I smile when I see the food I made last night is now gone. I don’t know why, but it feels like a small victory, and it makes me smile. Knowing that no matter how grumpy that man may be that he still ate my food makes me happy. I grab a few things to make sandwiches. I debate making one and leaving it in the fridge. I decide that’s exactly what I’ll do. If he ate the spaghetti then why not a sandwich? I might win some points and maybe he’ll stop being a jerk.

  “What is this?” Colby holds up what looks like an old school housekeeping uniform. Seriously? I look down at the yoga pants, sneakers and shirt I have on today. I love wearing dresses, but they aren't for cleaning. Except the new housekeeping outfit I’m staring at says otherwise. It’s boxy and the material seems rough and heavy. I hope it doesn't break me out in a rash while it cooks me alive.

  “I guess it’s for me.” Why else would my name be on it? I'll put it on after lunch. It doesn't matter, I tell myself. It’s clothes. I get to work making our sandwiches. I put the extra one I made on a plate to put in the fridge. I go to toss the now empty bread bag in the trash when I see the dinner I’d set aside last night there. My heart sinks and I swear I feel my eyes beginning to tear up.

  I stare at it for a moment, angry and hurt. Why do I even care that he didn’t eat it? So what? Colby and I enjoyed it. I walk over, grabbing the plate off the counter and dump the sandwich in the trash. There. This time I’ll do it for him and save him the energy. Obviously he needs it to keep up his jerkface attitude. I am, after all, here to help.

  I eat my sandwich before grabbing the stupid uniform off the counter to change into. The material is actually way rougher against my fingers than I originally thought. Great. This just keeps getting better and better.

  “Come on, Bubs. I want to get some more done before four.” In a house like this there will always be things that will need to be done. I want to go peek at our new rooms, but I’ll do that when I’m off the clock. “I guess we’re moving rooms,” I inform him. It’s moving day once again. This day just got a whole lot longer.

  9

  Kale

  “All your new rules are weird, Kale. I think she’s going to quit,” Tina informs me later that day. Evening has come and with it the welcome dark. Summer and Colby have retired to the west wing and I am free to roam my house.

  “Good, I didn’t want her here anyway.” Even as I say those words I feel a twinge of anxiety spiral through my gut. Thought of her leaving doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s for the best. If she stays, she’s in far more danger.

  “You have that commission due, which means you won’t eat or clean until it’s finished. I can’t leave on this couples cruise you bought me for my birthday unless I know you’re taken care of, so tolerate her until your sculpture is complete. Don’t make me feel guilty while I’m on this trip, okay? Great,” she continues without waiting for an answer. “I love you, big brother. Even though you are the hugest pain in the ass.”

  With that, she hangs up, and because she’s not wrong, I don’t call her back. I’m already behind and instead of working today, I followed Summer around via the security cameras.

  She spent a long time in the library, dusting the shelves, the tables, and even vacuuming the furniture. Now that she’s tucked away, I want to find out what was so intriguing in that room. As I move through the house toward the library, I close all the curtains that she opened.

  Once I arrive at the library, I take a look around. It’s a big room. Maybe she was taken with the architecture of it. Or maybe it’s a simple as she likes to read. Or maybe she was envisioning having a party in here. Tina has been after me to throw a Christmas celebration for the town. I shut that idea down quick.

  Whatever the reason, something in here pulled Summer back all day. Even after she moved on to clean other rooms, she would return to the library and would linger. I have a feeling that if I allowed it, she would spend her free time in there.

  A vision of her in one of her pretty dresses curled into the corner of one of the sofas with a dog at her feet and the tiny fluff of fur nestled on her lap appears in front of my eyes. I grab a piece of paper and pen off the desk that is never used. My pen flies over the paper and the image is laid down without any plan or concrete ideas. As quickly as I began, I end it. A haunting image stares back at me. Instead of a dog at her feet, it’s me. I drew myself with my back against the sofa. One of her hands is threaded through my hair and the other is holding a book. Her attention is focused on the book, but the expression on my ruined face is one of pure bliss.

  I let out an angry sigh and crumple the paper. Entertaining these fantasies is dangerous, Not to mention pointless. I only cause myself more pain by allowing her to stay, which is why it was a good thing that I tossed her dinner in the trash last night. That she was mad at the sight was another positive. She’s already tired of me. She will be moving on soon.

  I find that I can’t fire her. All I can do is make her life miserable so that she leaves. In the process, I’m making myself feel like a piece of shit. But it’s for her own good.

  “Why are you always closing the curtains? Sun is good for you. Everyone needs vitamin D.” There’s a click and the lights flash on. I whirl round so that all she can see is my back. “Turn off the fucking lights.”

  Her response isn’t immediate, and alarmed at the thought of exposure, my words come out biting and fears. “Are you deaf? Turn off the fucking light.”

  This time she reacts, and the lights are doused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were sensitive to light. But you must be, or you wouldn’t be so concerned about it, right?”

  I drop my head in my hand. Fuck, she’s so nice. I don’t deserve this. The right response would be another angry torrent of insults. That would drive her away. It might even make her cry. I must not be that far gone, because I don’t have it in me to be so intentionally cruel.

  “Yeah, I have a light sensitivity.” I mean, it’s not entirely a lie.

  “I wish you would have said something earlier. I am sorry for opening all the draperies. I will keep them closed in the future.”

  “Do whatever you want. I won’t be around you.”

  There’s a long pause as she s
earches for a response that she thinks will tame my beast. “Of course, if that’s what you’d like.” She’s trying to hold on to her patience but her voice is strained from not yelling at me.

  “What I’d like from you isn’t something I can say out loud,” I reply tersely. I throw the piece of paper in the trash. With my head down, I make my way to the door. I hear her slide out of the way, but she’s not fast enough and my shoulder brushes against her soft body. The brief contact snaps the reins of my self-control. I snatch her wrist and spin around so that her face is against the bookcases and my thick, hard cock is shoved against her frame.

  “Stay away from me. Don’t make me food, don’t open the drapes, don’t talk to me, and never, ever look at me. If you do any of these things I am going to assume that you want me to fuck your brains out.” I release her and stalk away.

  10

  Summer

  I flip off the light next to Colby’s bed, giving Beast a little pet before I slip from his bedroom. We’ve moved to the new wing of the house which, like the rest of the house, is breathtaking. I think Colby’s new room is bigger than our entire old house. I leave his bedroom door cracked so some light will flood into the room in case he wakes up in the middle of the night for some reason. He’s getting used to the house still. I think he knows his way around better than I do at this point.

  I fall back onto my bed. My body is tired, but my mind isn't. I can’t get the encounter out of my head that I had with Mr. Schulz. Kale. I sit back up, opening my nightstand drawer where I put the crumbled piece of paper that he so easily tossed out. Even in the condition it’s in, after doing some digging on Kale Schulz, I think you could get thousands of dollars for it because it was created from his hand. Ones that sculpt and create the most breathtaking pieces I’ve ever seen.