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Chapter Nine
Aden
Camilla looked awful. Sickly and garish. Like a college freshman who had taken frosh week too far. Cooper was pissed and also too drunk to drive. Camilla certainly couldn’t. Truth be told, I was the only one who hadn’t been drinking at all.
“I’ll take her home,” I said to Cooper when he made it back to the table, holding a napkin to his nose.
“You’ll what?”
“I’m the only one who hasn’t been drinking, and I live next door.”
“Good idea, thanks.”
Getting my jacket, I picked Camilla up in a fireman’s carry and hauled her toward the doors of the casino, getting nary a glance from the on-site security.
“Put me down! I can walk!” she protested, her dress riding up on her ass.
“Not steadily,” I said, slapping my hand down on her ass to hold her dress down as I carried her to her car.
Setting her down into the back seat, I got the keys from her purse and started it up. The owners knew me and my car, and it would still be there in the morning.
“This is bullshit! You hurt me, and Cooper spoiled my fun. Again.”
I turned in the driver’s seat like I was doing a shoulder check, making damn sure she could see my face and the deeply displeased expression writ upon it.
“Be quiet,” I growled.
Camilla’s scared expression hurt me slightly. I never believed in ruling by fear. She just made me so angry, acting like such a brat. Especially when I knew she was capable of so much more. It was a bit cliché, but sometimes Camilla really was her own worst enemy.
I made the mistake of glancing at her in the rearview mirror. Her mascara was cascading down her alabaster cheeks like black raindrops down a window. Add on her black lipstick and the overall effect, putting me in mind of corpse paint.
When we got to the apartment, she had mostly given up and was lying down in the back seat. Taking her out of the back seat, I carried her, a bit more carefully, into the building, using her keys on the front door.
“I really can walk,” Camilla said again, though this time with a bit less fervor.
She gave a weak attempt to wiggle out of my grasp, which I halted by spanking her. More than once, this time. Keeping up the strikes, at about thirty percent of my total power, until she stopped risking her safety by trying to wiggle out of my arms. Apparently, she was unaware that this would send her toppling to the pavement.
She was perfectly still relenting to my hold as I took her up the stairs, which was a relief. I really didn’t want to have to spank her again. Her round ass must have already been quite red.
Using her keys again, I got the apartment door open and carried her inside, nudging the door open with the toe of my sneaker. Hauling Camilla into the apartment, closing the door again with my heel, I set her down on the couch and checked her pupils. A process made easier by the way she was glaring at me.
“That hurt.”
“What did?”
“You spanked me, you bastard. Like I’m some kind of petulant child.”
“It was a bit hard to tell the difference at the time,” I said.
“What?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t acted like a little brat, I wouldn’t have spanked you or literally carried you out of the club. You looked absurd. Like an over-excited college kid. Maybe Cooper is right. I mean, he takes it way too far and often gets hurt in the attempting, posing more of a threat to himself than anyone else, but not for no reason. No wonder he is still acting in the big brother role when you’re still acting like such a fucking kid!”
I could see she was going to cry. In addition to being observant, I also knew all Camilla’s tells. It didn’t stop me, though. Some horrible part of me kept going, trying to convince me that the truth was all that mattered.
“He doesn’t want you to have a relationship with me, and frankly, I understand that. I am only interested in grown adults. Not silly little girls. You are not making me want to be with you pulling stupid stunts like this.”
She was quiet for a long time. At least in part from shock, or so it seemed from me. It was still coming, and finally, the dams broke, letting out an all new flow of tears. Not loud, wild sobs. Just small, whispered chokes, which somehow made it even worse. She was still trying to be brave even when she was being crushed. Shae would have slapped me if I talked to her like that. Camilla was suffering in silence.
