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“I do not.”
I throw my head back and let out a howl of exasperation then clench my jaw and throw my hands up in the air.
“Mr. Bullock wanted me to tell you that if you need anything, we can obtain it for you,” Mr. Robot says. “Or, if you would like to get out of the house for a while, we can take you where you want to go. But we will be by your side.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks.”
I wave him off yet again as I spin on my heel and march back to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me as hard as I can. Snatching my phone up off my desk, I quickly call Bastian. Again. And once again, I get sent straight to voicemail. It’s been almost a week since I saw Bastian and for the first few days, I assumed he was on shift at the firehouse. But now? Now, I have no idea what in the hell is going on. He’s not returning my calls or texts and has been completely radio silent since… well… since the day we were together.
That’s the only reason I can see for him completely freezing me out like this. Even thinking back on it now makes my face flush with the heat of my humiliation. I didn’t mean to call him daddy. It just slipped out in a completely unguarded moment of passion. Out of the millions of things I could have said while I was coming, I don’t know why that was the word that came out of my mouth. In that moment, it just felt right.
It was dirty and filthy. At the same time though, it was fun and sexy as hell.I've never been intimate with anybody before, but I never pictured myself as somebody who enjoyed being as dirty as I was with Bastian. I never thought I’d enjoy having his fingers in my ass and I certainly never thought I’d be into calling somebody daddy. But being with him, even if we didn’t actually have sex, showed me there is much about myself I still don’t know.
It was like… being with Bastian unlocked something inside of me. It opened a door I didn’t even know existed. And now that I’ve stepped across the threshold into this brand new room within me, I want to explore it. I want to see what else is in there. I want to look in all the closets, in all the corners, and in all the drawers to see what other unexpected treats I might find. The problem is, I only want to explore this new room with Bastian. He’s the one who showed me where it was and had the key that unlocked it.
But I think my calling him daddy freaked him out. Yeah, I was shocked to hear that word come out of my own mouth. Days later, I still can't believe I said it. I think though, it freaked Bastian out on levels he wasn't prepared to deal with…. and still isn't given his absence and refusal to return my calls and texts. It makes me feel like I ruined everything. It makes me feel like I was finally getting what I wanted and then did something stupid and completely blew it.
I thought we were clicking. I felt a connection to him and could have sworn he felt it too. He was making me feel so good and was fulfilling fantasies I never knew I had. I thought we were on the same page with each other. Believed that we were experimenting with each other. I thought we were enjoying each other and the fact that we were pushing each other’s boundaries. I truly felt like I was unlocking things inside of him as easily as he was with me.
But then he bolted. It was like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. And now, he’s decided that he doesn’t want to see or talk to me as well. What in the hell am I supposed to do? What in the hell am I supposed to think? Does he even care? And if he doesn’t care, why in the hell does he have me locked into this house? Why can’t he just let me go if he doesn’t want me?
“Dammit!” I roar and throw myself back on the bed.
The backs of my eyes throb as a monster headache starts to come on. I pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to stave it off as I stare at the ceiling then close my eyes, willing my headache away. When I do though, images of Bastian fill the darkness behind my eyes. All of a sudden, I feel his mouth on mine and my skin is crawling with electricity. As I remember the way his tongue and his fingers felt inside of me, my sex grows wet and hot.
My body quivers as I recall the sensations of his tongue dancing along my swollen lips and the way his teeth scraped my button. I slide my hand down my flat belly and into my pants and let my fingers slide along my wet, warm folds. As I think about having his long, thick cock in my hand, squeezing and stroking it, I plunge two fingers deep into my opening and bite my bottom lip savagely to keep from crying out.
As I let myself fantasize about having Bastian’s hard, hot cock inside of me, I arch my back as I thrust my fingers deep into my sex over and over again. The sound of my breathy moans fills my room, blending with the moist slap of my fingers in my wetness, enflaming the passion filling my body. I picture having Bastian’s cock in my mouth. Him bending me over my desk and pounding his rigid staff into my little pink opening with a fury that takes my breath away. I imagine him slapping my ass and pulling my hair. I picture him using me in ways others might find degrading but only serve to get me hotter and wetter.
And when my body starts to heave and tremble wildly, a stuttering breath leaves my chest. I bite down on my pillow to muffle my voice as I plunge my fingers into my tight opening one last time, touching off an explosion inside of me. My legs quiver and my sex throbs as I come hard around my fingers and feel myself floating away on a cloud of ecstasy that goes on for a while as I imagine what it feels like to have Bastian filling me with his warm seed.
When the trembling finally abates and my breath returns to normal, I press my head back against my mattress, a smile on my lips. Bastian has to come back sometime. And when he does, I’m going to be ready. I’m determined to have him inside of me. He’s going to make love to me if it’s the last thing I do.
9
Sebastian
It’s been difficult to be away from her for this long. I’ve wanted to be at the house. I’ve wanted to explain myself to her and make her understand what’s going on. I know I could have called her, but this isn’t the sort of conversation you have over the phone. The reports I’m getting from my new man, Omar, is that Bree is frustrated. He said that she’s grown increasingly unruly and that they’ve caught her trying to sneak out a couple of times now.
Truth be told, I feel terrible for leaving her twisting in the wind like this. But I needed to get away to clear my head as well as to put some balls in motion that will help me keep my promise to Eddie. One of my promises, anyway. I seem to have made several that, at the time seemed innocuous enough. I quickly learned though that to keep the promises I made to him I’m going to have to upend my entire life.
But it’s a price I’m more than willing to pay for my deceased best friend. And also for her. In the long run, it will make her life better. Easier. I hope that in time, once the dust has settled and she comes to terms with everything, Bree will be able to let go of her anger and properly mourn her father. I hope that she'll find her way to understanding everything that happened, what he did for her—why he did it—and forgive him.
Most of all though, I hope that she’ll find her way to happiness. I mean true and genuine happiness. I've got no idea what that looks like for her, but I want nothing but happiness for Bree. After all, she's been through, she deserves it, and I am going to be the one to ensure she gets the happiness and kind of life she wants. If it’s the last fucking thing I do, I’m going to make sure that Bree is happy.
I drop down at the desk in my hotel room after a long day and pour myself a glass of scotch. After flipping through all the channels, I settle on a ballgame and leave it on just for the background noise as I fire up my laptop and start going through some emails. With my correspondence done, I turn my attention to finishing up the action plans I’m putting together. I’m going to need to approve and finalize the reshuffling and get that in motion and settled before I head home.
After grabbing a warm, damp washcloth, I lean back in the chair and stretch my arms, yawning as I do. It’s been a long day and I’m starting to wear down. I still have a little bit left to do before I crash for the evening but it’s getting harder to keep my eyes open, so I minimize the windows and then call up the folder for home. Licking my dry lips, I double-tap on the icon to open the security folder.
Shortly after buying the house, I’d had cameras installed in all the rooms since I was staying in the city for work so often. They were discretely placed, hidden in the crown molding around the room so well anybody breaking in wouldn’t find them unless they were looking hard for them. It wasn't something I thought about much but when I checked the camera feeds a couple of nights ago out of habit, I stumbled onto the footage in Bree's room. She was busy masturbating and even though I knew I should shut off the feed, I couldn’t stop watching until she’d gotten herself off. I was so aroused and my cock so fucking hard, I replayed the footage and jerked myself off.
Since then, I’ve checked in on her, hoping for a new show. I swear to God, it seems like she knows I’m watching her or something because every night around this time, like clockwork, she gets herself off. At one point, I thought her eyes were on the camera and thought I saw a flirty little smile touch her lips. But she closed them so quickly as she reached her climax that I can’t be sure. All I know for certain is that I enjoy the fuck out of watching Bree finger herself.
On the screen, I’m looking at an empty room. I glance at my watch and settle in knowing she’ll be in soon. And sure enough, a couple of minutes later, the door to her room opens and she steps in and then closes it behind her. She's got on a dark-colored skirt that falls to the middle of her thighs, a white button-down shirt, and a dark blue sweater over that. Bree has on white knee socks and black Mary Janes.
I make a mental note to ask Omar where she went today dressed like that. Not that I don’t like it. I think she looks sexy as hell. I just don’t want anybody else looking at her and having the same thoughts I’m having right now. I know men well enough to know exactly where their minds would go if they saw her right now. I want the sight of her dressed up like that all to myself and don’t want to share her with anybody—not even if it’s only in their own minds.
Bree strips off the sweater and hangs it on the back of the chair at her desk and her shirt quickly follows. My stomach churns and my pulse begins to race as she strips out of her bra and hangs it on the chair as well. She turns around and gives me a view of her full, perfect tits. I remember what having those pert, pink nipples in my mouth felt like and that memory makes my cock stiffen. My prick strains against the front of my pants, begging for release. Begging to be buried deep in her wet, warm slit.
