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CHAPTER5
Cami
I don’t know why, but when I woke up this morning and realized that Mason had tucked me in last night without touching me, it was comforting and arousing all at the same time. I remembered coming home from Sophie’s party, walking into his office, but everything pretty much went hazy after that. As much as I wanted to find out what his hands on my skin would feel like, I desperately wanted to remember it when it happened, especially that very first time.
I don’t think he wanted me like that though. If anything, he probably thought me a nuisance.
I’d felt the need to apologize to him, but when I’d gotten up the nerve to go see him, it hadn’t gone the way I’d thought it would. I’d felt embarrassed and naughty and impossibly turned on the whole time I was stammering out my apology and he’d just been gentle and kind and caring. I’d stood there blushing bright red, feeling like nothing more than a little girl who was apologizing to her daddy for doing something wrong.
I’d expected him to be angry, maybe scold me or maybe something else, but he’d done none of those things.
He hadn’t raised his voice or gotten angry at me for disturbing him while he was working, which was more frustrating than anything. I’d gotten blackout drunk, and he wasn’t even bothered by it. He’d just told me he would see that I was taken care of, and I felt like he’d seen right through me.
I hadn’t known what to say so I’d just rushed off, mortified and confused. I decided to keep to myself, not wanting to face him or bother him again that afternoon.
I went back up to my room and curled up in bed for a nap. I fell asleep quickly, not having slept very well the night before. I woke up in time for supper and timidly ate my meal in silence. Thankfully, Mason had decided on breakfast for dinner and ordered a large helping of Miss Ethel’s banana-stuffed French toast, which was sweet because he knew it was my favorite.
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t really know what to say. I still felt guilty even though I’d apologized to him. He didn’t push any heavy conversation and I answered his questions with simple yes or no answers when he spoke to me. Eventually, he just left me to my quiet. I went off on my own after I finished, wanting to do something, anything that would take my mind of the frustrating man inside that office. I went for a walk in the woods, but that didn’t make me feel better. Eventually, I settled down to a movie in the theater room all by myself before I decided to go to bed.
I tiptoed past his office on my way, chewing my lip when I saw that he was still working that night. I paused, wanting to knock on his door and ask if he would put me to bed like he’d done last night. I didn’t remember it, and I wanted to see what it was like. Would he tuck the covers in around me? Kiss my cheek and brush the hair off my forehead when he said goodnight?
I lost my nerve as soon as I lifted my arm. I didn’t want to disturb him. I’d already tested his patience and I didn’t want to do it again. I wanted to continue staying here. He was kind and even though I’d messed up, it didn’t appear that he was going to kick me out on the streets for it. I had a good thing here and I didn’t want to screw it up.
I dropped my hand and tiptoed away. I slipped into my bedroom and climbed into my empty bed, feeling lonely and incredibly sorry for myself.
As I closed my eyes, I told myself tomorrow would be a better day.
* * *
One day passed and then another. I still felt badly over the events of last weekend, but every night I put myself to bed wanting to ask him to tuck me in and maybe for something more. Each night I ignored those wants, at least until the next Friday night.
I’d just finished my dinner. Mason had gone off to do something work related in his office and I sighed, staring at the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. An idea started to form in my head.
He’d told me not to drink again. Maybe if I did, it would spur him into action this time. Maybe this time, it would be enough.
I got up and opened the cabinet door, gazing inside. Most of the bottles were whiskey or bourbon, which made me crinkle my nose in disgust. I found a single bottle of tequila behind all those and pulled it out with a happy sigh.
I just wanted enough to give me the courage to push Mason to do something with me. I poured a single shot and downed it as quickly as I could. I gasped, the liquor burning as it sloshed down my throat. I poured a second one and shut the bottle, taking that next shot just as quickly in an effort to down it. I made a face and grabbed a bottled orange juice out of the fridge, sipping on that to chase away the rough aftertaste of the hard liquor.
I put the tequila away and took a deep breath. With increasing bravery, I went back up to my room and changed into the sexiest thing I owned. I put on my prettiest bra and panties. I had purchased a little slinky black dress that I slipped on, along with a pair of kitten heels. I put on a little lipstick and pinched my cheeks hard enough to make them pink.
I’d bought everything at the mall in the hopes that I’d wear them for him one day.
With a deep breath, I went downstairs. I stopped in the kitchen along the way and filled up a glass with orange juice, with the full intention of pretending it was a cocktail of some kind. When I was ready, I went and knocked on his office door.
“Come in! It’s open,” he called out and I slowly opened the door. I’d felt brave up until the point where he laid his eyes on me. For a brief second, he looked like he appreciated the sight of me, but then it was gone in a blink of an eye. It was replaced with something between disinterest and obligation. I tried not to let it bother me.
With a hard swallow, I gripped the glass tighter and lifted my chin and started to explain the story I had rehearsed at least a thousand times in my head while I was getting dressed.
“I’m going out with my friends to a rave tonight. It’s in an abandoned industrial building nearby in town,” I started.
There wasn’t really a rave for me to go to. I wasn’t even really meeting up with my friends either. Mainly, I just wanted him to scold me or maybe even forbid me from going after last weekend. My dress was short, and I’d intentionally hiked it up a bit so that if I bent over, my ass would be pretty much on full display. Maybe he would even do something else about it…
I just wanted to know that he cared, and that maybe he liked me a little bit.
His eyes glinted and for a second, I think he considered doing one of those things. Raves were known for drinking and glorified drug use. I’m sure that he knew that. For a second, I thought I might be onto something, but then his expression transformed into a mask.
He smiled.
