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22
DEMYEN
That was too close.
Waytoo fucking close.
I’ve been successful in avoiding both Clara and Willow for over a day, with the exception of checking in on Bambi and her new favorite little friend. They ended up going shopping together all day yesterday as a sort of therapy to help Willow break out of her shell and learn how to ask for things she genuinely needs.
Based on the number of bags they brought home, it seems she also learned that what she simplywantsis also on the “yes” list.
Clara was bedridden the entire time they were gone. Doc said that it was nothing serious, just compounded neglect for her own health. She had a high fever and would be a bit delirious until that breaks. But other than that, and aside from the healing ankle and various bruises Doc found on her body, she was healthy.
I asked him where those bruises were.
I really wish I hadn’t.
It’s what kept me in the gym for most of the night, pumping weights and slamming bags around until I passed out on one of the benches. I’m not supposed to care, and I have to keep telling myself I don’t. I fuckingdon’t. But every time I think about that motherfucker’s hands holding her thighs apart so hard that his fingers bruised her skin… the cigarette burn on the side of her breast I don’t even know how I missed… and countless other marks that are faint now, but still obvious to the medical eye…
Fuck.
I can’t afford to care about Clara Everett.
So why do I care so fucking much about how she’s treated?
And that’s where it all went too far overboard this morning. All I meant to do was speed up her recovery process by breaking her fever. It’s something Tolya and I used to do for each other whenever we got sick—we’d go inside the freezer, whoever had the fever, and the other would stand guard outside for around ten minutes. I don’t know the medical science behind it; all I know is it shocked our bodies enough to break into that vile sweat and bounce back within a day or so.
That was all well and good.
It’s the bath that did me in.
All I wanted to do was help her not stink of sick-sweat and warm up a bit from the freezer. That’s it. But the moment I saw her in that tub… the moment she started responding so sweetly to every touch…
I had to rip myself away before I took advantage of her delirium and fucked her fever out.
She’s my prisoner, not my woman.
My prisoner. Not my woman.
I’m chanting this to myself as I storm through the halls and across the courtyard. I need a distraction that’s as far away from Clara as possible. I can’t go back to my office because now, after our little “agreement,” all I can think about is bending her over that desk and pounding her open. I can’t go back to the gym because all I want is to pin her to the mats and fuck her in front of the mirrors so I can see her fall apart from every angle.
No way am I going to eventrygoing to my bedroom.
So, I beeline to the least provocative, most effective boner-crushing section of the compound in existence.
“Hey, Demyen!”
Willow beams as she waves at me from her new hammock suspended between two large palm trees in her solarium bedroom. What used to be an open, airy general space is now officially a homage to all things little girls could ever possibly want.
And it’s so goddamnpink.
Bambi is reclining on a lounger, scribbling away on her tablet while keeping an eye on the kid. “‘Sup, boss?” She squints up at me through her sunglasses, a smile brightening her caramel skin. I’ve noticed more and more of that lately, with Willow around. Bambi seems to genuinely love the little girl.
“Just checking in on you ladies.” I wink at Willow, who giggles and rolls out of the hammock to give me a hug.
Unexpected.
But it’s not… unwelcome.
