"Kaitlyn," he murmured. I bit his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist, my heart throbbing.
Suddenly, it all stopped. He pushed me away so fast I fell off the bed and bumped my head. "Ow," I said.
"I'm sorry," he said, wrapping a sheet around his body and jumping off the bed. "Did I hurt you? Are you alright?" I yanked my arm away, irritated at the sudden withdraw of affection. One minute I had his massive, erect cock rubbing against my jeans in just the right places, daring me to jump into the deep end, the next he was pushing me away like I had an infectious disease.
"I'm fine," I snapped.
"Kaitlyn I—I'm sorry." His eyes were so sincere. "I just didn't know what else to do." He wrapped his hands around his head and held it like he had a migraine. His eyes winced and turned glassy. "It's getting harder for me to control," he whimpered.
"What is?" I asked, my anger melting. He was obviously in pain; I just didn't know why.
I reached out a hand and he swatted it away, straightening his back. Maybe he really is crazy. "It won't happen again," he said, rounding back his shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes. They weren't the blue green I'd been mesmerized by when first meeting him, they were a deep brown with flecks of gold. Impossible. Eyes don't randomly change color like that. "You have my word. I won't touch you like that again."
I nodded my head, as if that was what I wanted to hear. Then left him alone to get dressed before he could see the disappointment on my face and the deep confusion in my eyes.
Chapter 8
It's amazing how fast something can become routine. What's even more amazing is how much crap a person will put up with when they're attracted to someone. Every time I tried to leave the house, Jeremy was there, reminding me that a portion of my contract involved my being available to Mr. Elliot twenty-four seven. That meant not going anywhere that wasn't within a 100 foot radius of the house. Auditions disappeared. I didn't have any friends in L.A. to begin with, or they'd have disappeared too. I felt like a prisoner. At least when I was auditioning, I had physical contact with people. Now, half the time Brett ignored me, the rest of the time... well the rest of the time it was like the two of us were sole survivors of some terrible catastrophe. The last two people alive on Earth, clinging to each other as a life rafts.
It was those times that kept me here. Being with Brett could be incredibly easy. We strolled through the grounds, ate dinner on the terrace, laughed at silly things, and my body still ached for him. I told myself there wasn’t a red-blooded woman alive who wouldn’t drool over his witty charm and drop-dead gorgeous looks. He felt something for me, too. I was certain. There were times when I’d look up to catch him staring at me for a moment before he quickly turned away. In those moments, when I’d catch him unsuspectingly, his face had such a pained longing, it took my breath away.
I only wished I knew how to create more of the good times and get rid of the sullen, morose, moody Brett forever. Was this what it felt like to love someone with a mental illness? Jeremy was constantly around, though his presence was often hidden. I would think that Brett and I were alone only to walk out of a room and discover Jeremy standing against a wall, listening.
This morning I was in the kitchen, contemplating the strange relationship that had developed between my employer and me, when he stumbled in, bleary eyed, searching for coffee.
"Coffee," Brett demanded. I could already tell this was going to be one of the bad days.
"Yeah, alright. Coming up," I mumbled, irritated that he hadn't even said good morning. Though it wasn't expressly written, part of my duties seemed to include bringing him crap that he could easily get himself. It was a wonder that I didn't brush his teeth and wipe his ass for him.
Luckily, the coffee pot was still hot. I pulled it from the coffeemaker and tripped over my own feet. Half of the coffee flew across the room and hit Brett square in the chest and I felt the other half of the coffee slosh out and burn my arm. The glass pot shattered on the floor, a million shards of glass instantly dug into my skin and stung me like a hive of bees.
"Shit!" I yelled.
Brett rushed to me. He stepped on the glass with his bare feet like he was walking on soap bubbles. "Kaitlyn! Are you alright?" He scooped me off the floor and pulled me into his arms. They were thick, and his muscles rippled as he held me protectively against him.
"Brett, your chest. Aren't you burned?" His face flushed as I struggled in his arms, certain he was hurt much worse than me.
"I'm fine," he said, holding me tighter as he carried me across the room and sat me on a couch.
"But I saw the coffee burn you."
"I'm fine," he repeated. “Let me see your arm." He pulled my hand, straightening my arm out. It had a giant red patch where the coffee had burned me. Bits of glass stuck out of my skin at all angles. Apparently, my left arm had taken the brunt of the injuries. I was glad I wasn't left handed. His eyes moved swiftly over the rest of me, searching my body for anything else that might be injured and leaving me with a tingling desire in my lady bits.
"Stay here," he said, leaving me in the living room. He returned a minute later with a first aid kit and some tweezers. "I need to get the glass out before we can treat the burn."
His eyes were the normal blue I loved. I watched them swim with concern. "I'm okay," I said, "really."
He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and pulled a piece of glass from my arm the size of a dime. My face went white. I'd never been very fond of blood—especially my own. "Okay," I told him. "Maybe not exactly fine. Go ahead. Patch me up."
I closed my eyes but winced every time Brett pulled a piece of glass from my skin. The third time I jumped and Brett held my hand, massaging my palm with his fingers before continuing. "Tell me again," he said, pulling out a tiny piece of glass that had embedded itself into my elbow. "What was it you said you did before coming here." I had a feeling Brett was trying to distract me. I decided to let him.
"Ow," I winced. "I'm an actress. Well... was… sort of."
His eyes lifted to mine. We were so close I could smell his sweat. It was like cedar and eucalyptus. I inhaled deeply as he continued. "Sort of?" he asked.
"Well, my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—Colin, has had a lot better luck at it than I have."
"Oh? And how much luck have you had?" he asked, dropping another piece of glass onto the table.
"None," I tried to smile but my lips turned down instead of up.
Brett's hand reached out, caressing the back of my leg. His eyes were soft and seemed to reach to the very core of me. "It takes time," he said. "What about Colin? Where is he now?"
"In our old apartment, probably banging some skank he picked up at a bar. That was his favorite pastime while we were together, no reason it would’ve stopped now that we're apart."
Brett's eyes darkened. "He cheated on you?"
I laughed. "Constantly. Then again..." I paused. "Can it really be called cheating if I knew and didn’t stop it?" I blushed, embarrassed.
Brett's eyes started to twitch. "You knew he was cheating on you yet you said nothing?" I nodded, feeling my throat dry up. "So, you prefer men with a callous disregard for your wellbeing who would treat you with no respect rather than those who would love you unconditionally?" he asked, finally setting the tweezers down. His eyes burned with an angry fire. I felt my defenses kick in.
"No, I just... I don't have a lot of friends."
"There's a reason for that."
I yanked my arm out of his grip. "What is that supposed to mean?” Brett's muscles flexed and he looked at me with eyes that were hard and dark.
“Go on, Brett, answer. What is the reason I have no friends? I’m fat, ugly, stupid? Lay it on me, I can take it. Trust me, I’ve heard worse than anything you can dish up.” I knew my temper was flying off the handle a little bit, but I was livid.
"Because you have no self-confidence,” he spat the words at me. “You put yourself down too much.” He didn’t meet my eyes when he muttered, “Wh
y are you women always putting yourselves down?"
I knew Brett was in a bad mood when he’d walked into the kitchen this morning, but after being burned and having shards of glass removed from my arm, I wasn’t exactly Little Mary Sunshine either. Something about the way he said “you women” or maybe it was the words he chose that spiked my bitch-o-meter.
"I don't know," I snapped back, "Maybe it’s the same reason men like you are always keeping secrets from us."
"Oh really?" he snarled, trying unsuccessfully to control his temper. "It would seem you know much more about men than I'd initially given you credit for."
"Are you calling me a slut now?" I stormed towards the front door.
"Where are you going?" he demanded, his booming voice stopping me short.
"Out."
"You can't. It's against your contract. I forbid it."
I turned on my heels. "You forbid it?"
Brett squared his shoulders. "That's right."
It was just then that my phone rang. It wasn’t a number that I recognized and I only answered it to piss Brett off. I was a little confused by how we'd gone from his caressing my leg to the all-out war we were in the middle of. "Hello?" I snapped into the receiver.
"Kaitlyn?"
My face turned pale. "Colin?"
"Yeah."
"What the hell do you—" Then I saw Brett's face. His eyes were narrowed in jealousy, his lips pursed tightly. "Colin, hey, what's up? I was just thinking about you actually."
"You were?"
"Yeah."
I heard Colin take a deep breath before launching into a prepared speech. "I called because I wanted to say I was sorry for the way I treated you."
I was so shocked at his words that I forgot to breathe. "You are?"
"Of course I am! I was a complete idiot. I was hoping you'd let me take you to dinner tonight. I'd like to talk to you. To explain why I treated you like that when you deserved so much better."
"Well..." I should have told him to fall in shit and roll around. That was my first instinct. But, Brett was watching me, his face still scrunched in a scowl. Besides, after three weeks cooped up with a narcissistic crazy person, it was nice to hear an outside voice.
"I can't really meet you for dinner. I... I'm stuck at work all day today." Then an idea struck me. "Would you like to meet me here? Where I'm living now?" I held the phone away from my mouth and tried to make my eyes look wide and innocent as I turned to Brett, " I am allowed to have friends over, aren't I?" He nodded stiffly. I could tell he hated the idea, but he wasn't about to let me think I'd gotten the best of him.
I was thinking of the movie room. Colin and I could watch something in there after I got Brett locked down for the night. We would never be a couple again, but maybe we could at least work towards a civil friendship. It would be nice to have a friend.
I gave Colin directions and he promised to meet me here at 9:30 tonight.
Chapter 9
I don't know why I'd gotten dressed up for Colin. No, that's a lie. I wanted to look good so Colin would know exactly what he was missing, and Brett would be jealous for keeping me at arm’s length. Little did I know at the time that I was playing with fire.
I opened the door at 9:30, and Colin stood there with his jaw open and his hands trembling. I smiled.
"Hey," I said, trying my best to sound casual. Inside, I was shouting with glee.
"Hey. Uh... you look nice."
"Thanks. Come on in." I swung the door open wider, and he stepped over the threshold. He gave a low whistle and looked at me with a new respect.
"You live here?" he asked.
My smile widened as I led Colin down the hall towards the theatre. "Yeah. I mean, it's my boss's place. The room came with the job."
"Wow," he said, eyeing the treasures around the house. It was hard not to. The paintings on the walls alone were probably worth millions. "Where's your room? Can I see it?" he asked.
I hesitated. I was okay with Colin being in the house and us hanging in the theater, but having him step foot in my bedroom was another thing altogether. I had no intention of sleeping with him and didn't want him to get the wrong idea.
"It's upstairs," I said, "Maybe later," then steered him down another hallway. Finally we got to the theater and I showed him in. "Wow," he said again. He seemed in awe of everything about the place. I'd known he would be and the show-off in me was glad.
"Got any snacks?" he asked.
"I can check the kitchen for popcorn and stuff."
"I was thinking more like wine. Maybe some strawberries?"
Alarm bells went off in my head, "Um... I'll check. Colin..." I hesitated. I didn't want Colin thinking of this as a date—the kind that would end with us in bed and me regretting it all the next day. "I don't think that... I think we should just be friends." I held my breath, waiting for his reaction. Colin didn't have friends who were girls.
"Sure," he said. "That's fine. That's great, actually. Who couldn't use a friend?" I blew out the breath I'd been holding.
"Great," I said. I checked the clock on the wall. It was almost ten. "Look, I have to run and take care of something for my boss. I'll be back in like ten minutes. Make yourself at home. There's a huge movie selection over there," I pointed towards the far wall. "Pick out whatever you'd like and I'll be back."
I ran to Brett's room, happy that I'd invited Colin over after all. We'd been together for six years—since high school—you didn't just give that up overnight. There was no reason we couldn't be friends.
Brett was waiting for me on his bed, the cuffs spread out before him. "Hi," I said. Things had been awkward between us all day. He looked at me but said nothing as I strapped his cuffs around his wrist. His arms were a mass of golden-bronze muscles. It seemed wrong to be locking him in steel cuffs.
"So, your boyfriend is here?" Brett finally asked gruffly.
“Ex,” I replied
"You'd let someone who hurt you as he did back into your life?"
I hesitated. I didn’t like his derogatory tone. "What I do with my private life is none of your business." I felt his eyes glued to me as I walked around his room, checking things. "Besides, I don't have any other friends."
"You have me," Brett said. His voice was hoarse and he stared at me with calculating eyes.
"No, I don't," I snapped. "I don't even have your friendship Brett."
He looked stunned. His eyes softened. "The last few weeks... I've come to appreciate you more than I could have thought possible."
There was a long pause of awkward silence. The air felt heavy around us.
"Yeah, well..." I didn't know what to say. I was flattered by his words, but I was still an outsider in his world. "You have too many secrets. I don’t even know you—the real you. You shut me out."
Brett opened his mouth to respond then closed it again without saying anything further. "I'll be back at six," I told him, then shut the door.
In the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the small wine cooler. Colin had picked out a movie and it was already playing it when I walked in. "You started it already?" I asked.
"Yeah. I was bored. Do you mind?"
"Er... no. I guess not. I got us some wine." I didn't know anything about wine, I'd just grabbed the first bottle I saw, but Colin whistled when he saw the year.
"Nice," he said. I smiled, glad I'd selected something appropriate.
We sat sipping wine and watching some old western that I didn't recognize but Colin seemed to really be enjoying. Halfway through I went to refill my glass and realized the bottle was empty. Colin had drunk almost all of it himself. I should have known better, Colin had always been a heavy drinker. I decided it wasn't a good idea to get another bottle. I didn't want him spending the night because he was too drunk to drive.
My mind kept drifting back to what Brett had said. Colin had treated me like crap the entire time we were together. Why would I let him back into my life now that I'd made a fresh start? Was I really so de
sperate for friends?
It was while I was pondering this that I felt Colin's hand creeping up my thigh. I looked at him and pushed it away. "Stop," I said.
He shrugged and returned to watching the movie. A minute later, his hand was back. Only this time, I didn't push it away so easily. He wouldn't let me. "Colin," I said, hoping I sounded forceful. His hand was on my waist now, trying to draw me to him. "Colin, stop it. I thought we decided we'd just be friends."
"Yeah," he whispered, forcing himself closer to me. I struggled in his arms. "Friends with benefits."
"No, Colin. I'm not interested in those types of benefits." He pressed his lips against mine. They tasted like sour wine. I slapped him, surprised at myself. Colin looked shocked too, for a half-second, then his face grew dark and angry. I jumped off the couch and Colin stood up.
"So, you'll bang Brett Randolph Elliot but not me? Is that it?"
"What are you talking about? How did you know this is Brett Elliot's place?"
"Your mom told me. I didn't believe her at first, but when I saw this house tonight... You've gotta be fucking him. Why else would he hire you? He must have a thing for fat chicks."
I cursed my mother for opening her big mouth. "Okay, you need to leave." I put a hand on his back to usher him towards the door. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, twisting it behind my back painfully. "Ow," I screamed. Things went from bad to worse, fast. With my wrist locked in his grip Colin forced me back onto the couch and pinned me there.
"Colin, stop it!" I screamed. His hands ran roughly over my breasts, fingers stabbing into my flesh like ice picks. His breath was hot and stunk as he kissed me, pushing his body against mine. I felt his erection through his pants and freed my hand just enough to slap him again. He punched me back, and I tasted blood in my mouth. It mixed with the tears flowing down my cheeks. "Colin, stop it!" I whimpered. "Heeelp!"
Bears of Burden: THORN Page 103