They emerged after what seemed like forever, but was technically only one hour and forty-three minutes.
I pushed off the wall where I’d been waiting. When Dad hugged Camille, I wanted to separate them. Mine. It was the first time in my life I’d ever thought of harming my father. I stayed put and paid close attention to their cues.
Her eyes were watery, her nose slightly rosy. She’d been crying. My father sniffed. They’d been crying together. When Camille finally looked at me, there was some sort of new understanding in her eyes along with her usual wariness.
“What did I miss?”
Dad headed toward the dining room. “What’s Rita cooking up for dinner?”
Camille followed.
“You aren’t going to tell me what you two discussed?” I fell into step with her.
“No.”
Fuck. I supposed the good news was that she didn’t seem any more inclined to run than she did before.
“Have you decided to stop trying to leave?”
She shook her head. “It would take a lot more than a discussion with your dad for me to agree to give up my freedom.”
“But you two hugged?” It sounded dumb. I knew it, but I wanted any morsel of what they’d discussed. “So, that’s a good thing?”
She paused before walking into the dining room.
Her light blue eyes pierced me, then glanced at my dad. “Let’s just say I’m not your only victim.”
24
Camille
Sebastian brushed his teeth and watched me in the mirror as I skirted behind toward my closet. It struck me as odd that I already considered it “my” closet. I reminded myself it was only “a” closet as I changed into pajamas.
When I walked out and grabbed my toothbrush from the sink, Sebastian shook his head. “No clothes.”
“I don’t care about your stupid rules.” I squeezed some toothpaste onto my brush and got to work as he glared at me in the mirror. Taking my time, I brushed slowly and methodically as his scowl deepened. When I was done, I turned and headed toward the bedroom.
He grabbed my arm and whipped me around, then pinned me against the wall. “I don’t know what my father told you about me, but I can assure you that challenging me on this isn’t in your best interest.”
“I’m wearing my pajamas to bed.”
“No.” He leaned closer. “You aren’t. I’ll rip them the fuck off if I have to.” His smirk appeared, and I struggled to keep my gaze locked with his.
I wrapped all my confidence into a ball and hurled it into my voice. “I have a deal for you.”
He gripped my t-shirt, fisting the material and pulling me toward him. “It better involve you being naked.”
I swallowed thickly and tried to summon up all the courage his father had given me earlier in the library. “The deal is this. You let me wear what I want to bed, and I’ll willingly let you hold me. Or I sleep naked and stay on my side of the bed, no touching. Your choice.”
His eyes flickered to my lips. “You forgot option three.”
I grabbed his hand and tried to pry his fingers loose. They didn’t move.
“Option three is that I could strip you and force you to sleep against me.” He pressed me into the wall, his body mastering mine. “I already know how you like to be kissed.” His voice dropped even lower. “And I know how much you enjoyed it, no matter how much you lie to yourself.”
I gave up on trying to free my shirt. “I’d fight you all night.” My breathy voice betrayed me, but I wasn’t giving up until I gained some ground.
“Us naked together, our bodies tangled and pressed against each other? Doesn’t sound so bad.”
I shuddered, but not from fear. This had to be textbook Stockholm Syndrome, because his words heated me inside and out.
“My deal is the only one that doesn’t end with my knee in your crotch.” I forced what I hoped was a stern look onto my face. “Hold me or don’t. It’s up to you.”
He licked his lips and relaxed his grip on my shirt. “Get in bed.”
“Pajamas or no?” Hell, did I just win?
“You can wear yours.” He tucked his thumbs in the waistline of his boxers and pushed them to the floor. His cock sprang free, thick and hard. “But I’ll be naked.”
I turned and scurried into the bedroom. He hit the light in the bathroom and trailed right behind me.
“Come here.” Though this was my deal, the command hadn’t left his tone.
I slid between the sheets and watched his dark silhouette ease down beside me. His hand wrapped around my waist and he pulled me into his side.
A deep sigh left his lungs as soon as our bodies connected. “Why does this feel so right?”
He overwhelmed me—his warmth, the honest wonder in his voice, and the way I reacted to him. I didn’t understand it, and I hated myself for even having remotely positive feelings toward him. It was messed up beyond words.