Breaking Meredith (Disciples 4)

Things they acquire and hoard, until they grow bored of them.

And eventually they all grow bored of them.

With that sobering thought, I head back into the bedroom. I can still hear Simon tapping away. Sounds like he’s very busy. It would be a great time to try and make an escape… if there wasn’t a patrol of armed guards roaming the property.

And of course, this stupid bracelet on my wrist.

I still can’t believe I put it on without really thinking about it. He just asked so nicely… fuck. Obviously, sex makes me stupid.

Approaching the computer room quietly, I pause at the doorway and peek my head in.

Simon is sitting in front of his desk, typing furiously while staring at the screen directly in front of him. The screen is black, but there’s dozens of lines of what appears to be code in white text flowing across it.

The code scrolls by just as fast as Simon is typing.

I try to make some of it out, but the type of the text is too small to read clearly from here. I could move in closer, but even if I could read the text, I doubt I’d understand it.

Simon seems to be completely oblivious to my presence so I take this opportunity to observe him in his natural environment. Hunched over a little in his chair, the muscles of his arms and shoulders strain against the white fabric of his shirt as his long fingers dance across the keyboard.

His fingers move so quick, so sure, it brings up memories of when they were inside me. Driving me towards that release that was both wanted and unwanted. Before I can completely shut the memory down, my blood starts to pump a little faster and everything below my waist stirs, awakening.

“You may come in, Meredith,” Simon says over his shoulder, his fingers still tapping rapidly on the keyboard.

Caught spying, I hesitate. I wasn’t planning on joining him. In fact, I think I’d prefer some distance between us so I can get this shit in my head figured out. Right now, I’m so out of sorts, I’m afraid I’m going to make another stupid mistake.

Simon’s fingers slow and he finishes his work with a couple of clicks on the mouse. Then he turns his chair to face me.

His eyes peer at me expectantly behind the lenses of his glasses.

Never one to back down from a challenge, I lift my chin into the air and slowly approach him. I school my features into an expression of boredom even though my body feels like it’s being drawn towards his body like a magnet.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks as I stop a whole foot away from him.

The air between us seems to crackle with tension. His fingers curl around the arms of his chair and his jaw tightens. He glares at the space between us as if it has somehow offended him.

What did he expect me to do? Throw myself at him? Kneel at his feet?

Not happening.

“Yes,” I answer coolly and then raise my right hand. “But this bracelet is growing uncomfortable. Will you remove it, please?”

Simon’s eyes flick towards the bracelet, and either he’s getting worse at hiding his emotions or I’m getting better at reading him because I can tell right away he doesn’t want to remove it.

I let out a soft sigh and admit, “I’m not stupid enough to run now.”

Both his eyebrows quirk up and I scowl. Of course he doesn’t believe me.

“Seriously. There’s way too many guys patrolling outside, and besides, this house is impossible to get out of.”

Simon stares at me for a long moment and I can’t stop my eyes from drinking in his perfect bone-structure. How did I not notice he’s such a fucking handsome man before? Take off his glasses and ruffle his hair a bit and the man could pass for a fucking supermodel.

Finally, he lets out his own sigh, like I’m putting him out or something, and says, “Very well.”

Reaching out, he grabs me by the hand and pulls me closer. I clench my teeth together as his fingers wrap around my wrist. His touch, just the press of his skin against my skin, still affects me in unwanted ways.

Ways that make me want to throw myself at him instead of ripping him into pieces.

He begins to turn back towards his desk and I have no choice but to follow him. In a way, I kind of feel like a dog being led by a leash.

I could fight him on this, but what would be the point? The rage is gone, lost in the things he did to me last night. Pissing him off now would only trigger another unwanted physical confrontation. The best thing I can do is pretend compliance and hope I can slip away without another incident.