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24
CAMILLE
The only option I had was to run.
Pack up my things and disappear.
But that would only buy me time. Cauldron would find me eventually. He’d make good on his word then.
I was screwed—no pun intended.
At eight o’clock, there was no knock on the door.
The asshole just walked in like he owned the place. He stepped into the living room, wearing black jeans and boots with a long-sleeved shirt that fit nicely across his hard chest. The fabric stretched over his arms and shoulders, and it hung loose around his stomach. His hair was slicked back like he’d just taken a shower before heading over here. That meant he would smell like his body soap, a smell I’d tried so hard to forget. He stared at me with those espresso-colored eyes, just as intense as the day he pointed that gun at me. It was as if we were back in time, full of loathing and lust. “Get your ass upstairs.”
“No.”
He took a step toward me, his body tight with menace.
“You’re going to make me?”
“I’m going to make you do your job.”
“What the hell is wrong with you—”
“You’rethe one who walked into that bar and asked for a job.You’rethe one who put yourself at the mercy of men like me. You’d fuck a stranger like Bartholomew, so fuck me instead.”
I looked away, so angry because there was no way out of this. This was all my fault. If I’d just taken that job at the art gallery, none of this would be happening. Cauldron wouldn’t have found the loophole that put us back into the exact relationship I had fled.
“Now get your ass upstairs.” Like a tall statue, he loomed over everything in the room, commanding the place even though the deed was in my name. “Don’t make me ask again.” He turned away and disappeared up the stairs.
I listened to his footsteps grow fainter as he made it up the stairs and stepped into my bedroom. Then, the house went silent. The floorboards didn’t creak. Tension settled on my shoulders because I knew there was no other option. I had to walk up there, swallow my pride and my feelings, and do the job.
I finally mustered the courage to head up the stairs and step into the bedroom.
Cauldron had already made himself comfortable on my bed, sitting up against the pillows at the headboard, buck naked, his dick already hard, probably because he knew I had no other choice than to come up those stairs and do my job.
I tried not to look too hard. It’d been so long since I’d seen him like that, and my typically cold body turned warm. It’d been a long dry spell, and suddenly, those withdrawals hit me when I saw the sexiest man alive waiting for me on my bed. I focused on a spot on his forehead.
“Undress.”
I’d been a prostitute for years, but I’d never truly felt like I was doing anything wrong until then. I started with my shirt, pulling it over my head to reveal the lacy bra underneath. My fingers fidgeted at the clasp in the back, taking my time because it was hard to concentrate. I finally got it free and felt the material fall from my arms.
I didn’t see his reaction because my focus was below his hairline.
“Eyes.”
I sucked in a deep breath before I obeyed. Now, I could see him, see how much he wanted, more than he ever had before.
“Keep going.”
I undid my jeans and pulled them down before I stood in the black thong. I kicked away the pants and watched him look me up and down, his big dick against his stomach. My thumbs hooked into my panties, and I slid them down, completing the transition until I was in my bare skin.
I’d never felt so vulnerable. On display. Powerless.
Cauldron enjoyed the sight, his eyes slowly combing over my body like he’d never seen me before. “Get over here.”
I didn’t move.
