The Terms 2 Page 20

  “Don’t go. Stay here with us.”

  “Ellis, this is important to me.”

  He leans back. “Why? You only met them this week.”

  “Exactly, and they were kind enough to invite me to their weekly coffee outing. They go every Saturday after the pantry closes.”

  His eyes bulge. “You’re going every Saturday?”

  “No, not every weekend, but I don’t want to decline their first invite. Most of the volunteers have been there for years, so I can learn from them, which will help me in my career.”

  “Camilla, you don’t need a job anymore.”

  “This isn’t about me having a job for money. It’s about me having a fulfilling career where I give back to the community.”

  “I’ll make a considerable donation and pay for other people to work there if it means you can be home with your family.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “I love that you want me here with you, but I need this.” Remembering the promise I made to him, I look at my feet.

  “I told you I was submitting to you completely, and agreeing to be your submissive meant handing over my trust to you. I believe you respect me and don’t want me locked in a castle like in Beauty and the Beast.”

  “I don’t want that.” Taking his hands in mine, I tilt my eyes up at him.

  “If you tell me again not to go, I’ll believe you have an important reason in doing so, and I won’t leave.”

  Ellis’s head falls back. “Fuck,” he utters under his breath. “If doing this makes you happy, then I want you to go. I only hope you won’t leave us alone too often.”

  Lowering his head, he looks at me like a wounded child. I cup his cheek. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I wonder if my mother thought the same when she first became passionate about helping others.”

  “I’m not going to lose sight of what’s most important.” Tiptoeing, I kiss his cheek. “I promise, and I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Liam, run over here, and give Momma a kiss. I’ll be back before you know it, and you behave for Daddy.”

  “Yes, Mother. Bye, Mother.”

  Laughing, Ellis winks at me.

  “Maybe you two don’t need more time alone. He’ll only discover new ways to tease me,” I say.

  “I don’t like that Mitch is off today, but the younger guard, Todd, is going to ride with you. I told him to wait in the car while you’re in the coffee shop.”

  “OK, and thank you for supporting me.”

  “I might be working the wrong angle here. Maybe I should punish you for behaving since you do way more of that. I’d have endless opportunities.”

  “You get to make the rules, Sir.”

  Yanking me to him, he growls in my ear.

  “And don’t forget it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Greyson

  Sasha’s been quiet since we left the NA meeting. As I drive, I reach over and squeeze her knee. Rejecting my attention, she turns her legs inward toward the passenger door. Her arms are crossed, and she’s staring out the window.

  “During one of your stays in rehab, did you ever confide in a counselor about your past?” I ask.

  “I told you I wasn’t allowed.”

  “Your odds of staying clean are slim if you don’t talk to someone about why you started using in the first place.”

  She snaps her head in my direction.

  “Why did you start using?” Her voice is bitter, and I know damn well what she’s doing.

  Her wall is boarded back up as her mind searches for an excuse to get high. She’s looking for the fight, the fallout … anything that will allow her to feel sorry for herself enough to excuse it again.

  I open and close my hand that’s gripping the steering wheel.

  “My friends introduced me to drugs in college, but I take full responsibility for using them. I could’ve said no, but school was fucking hard, and the drugs got me through it.

  “I was able to stay up all night and study, and then I’d take something to make me crash when I finally had a moment to sleep.

  “The other reason I used was because I felt trapped over my future. It’s one thing to feel shackled in the present. It’s another to see your life sentence. I was expected to join my family’s oil business and marry Whitney, and I wanted to do neither.”

  Glancing from the road to Sasha, I look for a sign that she’s loosening up. Her arms have uncrossed, so I’m making progress.

  “The drug use finally caught up with me, and I was going to lose my shot at law school if I didn’t get my act together. Ellis knew it, and he helped me get clean more than anyone.

  “I eventually got the career I wanted, but as you’re aware, the bride’s a different story. Do you know why I can sit here and tell you this?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because in rehab, I talked shit out, regardless of how uncomfortable it was. It’s why I can share with you about personal, deep shit unlike most guys could.”

  “The meetings already make me think too much. The last thing I want to do is talk about it.”

  “Maybe once you talk about it, you’ll think about it less.”

  “I want to use right now.”

  “I know. I feel it a little bit, too, especially with the looming wedding. It’s sick but I even fantasized about us using together. Damn, I miss that high sometimes.”

  Sasha surprises me when she bursts into laughter, slinging her head back against the seat.

  “Please don’t try to be anyone’s sponsor–like ever. You’d totally suck at it.”

  I grin at her. “Hey, I’m just being honest. I do other daring shit now to get that rush. Even closing a deal on a property can give me an endorphin dump. I’m banking on that rush when I get this tattoo. Are you going to get one, too?”

  “No, I’m saving my money for a place to live.”

  “I told you I’m paying.”

  “I’m running up a large enough tab. Maybe next time.”

  I snort. “There won’t be a next time.”

  “Ha. You’ll see; one tattoo leads to another.”

  “Do you have more than one?”

  “Yep.”

  “I want to see it.”

  “You can’t. It’s in a private place.”

  I grin at her again. “You at least have to tell me where and what it is.”

  She succumbs to the crack I made in her boarded-up wall and smiles shyly.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  A call comes in, and I see it’s Ellis.

  “Cuz, hi.”

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “You’re on speaker. Sasha and I just left a meeting. What’s up?”

  “Liam and I are hanging out here alone at the house. You’re welcome to stop by.”

  “Actually, my weekend is booked. Could we grab dinner Monday evening?” Silence fills the air … fills it … and from Ellis, I know what that means. Shit. “Any evening next week will work,” I add. “You can let me know later.”

  “I’ll check Camilla’s schedule and get back with you. Sasha, hi.”

  “Hi, Ellis.”

  “I’m sure Camilla would like to have you over. We’re not leaving the house this evening or tomorrow, so you’re welcome anytime.”

  He sure can be a dick when he wants to be.

  “Uh, thank you, Ellis, but I have plans, too. Tell Cammy I’ll call her Monday. Oh, and thank you for the gift, but I’m giving eight hundred of the thousand back. It was too generous of you.”

  “A thousand…?”

  “We have to go, Ellis,” I say.

  “Call me, Greyson.” I hang up since he’s pissed and will blurt out something he shouldn’t over the speaker phone.

  “Wow, he spoke to me,” Sasha says, “and he invited me over, too.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Looks like you made the cut. Earning his trust is a hard one.”

  “I won’t let him down. He’s g
iving Liam and Camilla a life most girls only dream about.”

  I’m quiet until we reach the tattoo shop. Ellis doesn’t need to tell me that I shouldn’t spend time alone with Sasha. I know it, but I’m a selfish prick, and my conscience will tolerate the guilt while I enjoy my time with her.

  Sasha

  “Your pain face is too funny,” I say to Greyson over the sound of the tattoo gun.

  “Stop. I already have to accept I’m a candy-ass. I don’t need you teasing me for it.”

  I giggle, and the male tattoo artist laughs, but then my eyes stray from Greyson’s face to his body, and I’m distracted in an instant.

  His shirt is off, and I’m appreciating his 5:00 a.m. workouts. Maybe I should consider exercising myself, but I’m thinking in the evening would be a better fit for me. His body … I could lick Pixy Stix sugar right off those rock-hard muscles.

  I can’t believe I’ve found a man I want to touch while I’m not high, but maybe the fact I can’t touch him is why I fantasize about it. I know it’s not going to happen, so I feel a bit safer.

  “What are you thinking about, Ladybug?” My eyes flit to his, and he’s exposing his sexy dimples. Damn, I’m busted. OK, I’ll play.

  “I was thinking how I’d like a juicy popsicle to suck on right now. I really like them.”

  Swallowing, his smile recedes. “Girl, that’s not funny. I’m on to you.”

  The young artist smirks but never looks up.

  “What?” I ask innocently. His fixed gaze transforms to hungry and determined. I’m chained to it as he transmits his desire to ravish me. Through the turquoise of his eyes, I see the fantasies and feel his urges. The words from his lips aren’t necessary.

  Oh, no.

  “I need to use the restroom.” Darting to the lobby, I search for the bathroom.

  I slam the door closed behind me and squeeze the handle with my sweaty hands. I want to believe it’ll protect me from him, but I know the truth. I’ll go back for more since the punishment is worth the high.

  After I wet my face with a damp paper towel, I leave the room. Greyson is paying the artist at the counter in the lobby, and I see him hand the man a wad of cash.

  “You missed the end result,” he says to me.

  “Sorry, you can show me later.” We stroll to the Rolls-Royce, and since the tattoo is on his right shoulder blade, he winces as he leans back against his seat.

  “Why did you choose a mountain and eagle?”

  “They represent freedom.” Starting the car, he looks over at me. I’m staring straight ahead, but after a few seconds of having his eyes on me, I steal a glimpse of him. “I want to show you something,” he says. “It’s something no other soul knows about.”

  “You want to share it with me?”

  “Yeah, I do. I have a feeling you’ll appreciate it and understand it more than anyone else.”

  Intrigued, I quirk an eyebrow. “If you’re sure, then I’m down for it.”

  “We’ll have to take a drive, and we’ll stop for food on the way.”

  “You have me curious.” Sinking down in the seat, my mind dwells on all the possibilities of where we could be going, but I come up with nothing. All I know is I feel more vulnerable than ever if he’s sharing something this private with me.

  ***

  “We’re almost there,” Greyson says. “You’ve been quiet since we stopped at the store. Actually, you’ve been different since you ran off to the restroom at the tattoo parlor. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  “Why do you have to say such honest shit?”

  “It’s who I am, so tell me why.”

  I sigh. “OK. Why do you look at me like I’m more than a blip on your radar? I’m Podunk, whereas you’re like a tropical island or Times Square in New York. Hell, you probably own an island.”

  He laughs. “I don’t own an island, but that’d be cool. Seriously, Sasha, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I do but it’s not accurate.”

  “You’re handsome, wealthy, educated, and it sounds like women throw themselves at you, so the fact you want to spend time with me makes me wonder who’s kidding who here.”

  “Don’t do this.” He glowers. “Don’t act like you don’t matter. Rhonda told me you’re overqualified for your position. That means you’re capable of doing a more challenging job or getting a college degree if you want it.

  “You’re funny, kind and beautiful, too, and once you believe it, more people will. Then, more opportunities will come your way.”

  I break our gaze, wishing I believed what he said, but it’s contradictory to how I was treated in the past. Only Camilla held on to hope that I’d amount to something, and I’ve disappointed her more times than I could count.

  Greyson turns onto a long gravel driveway, and I see a cabin in the distance. “Pity parties are my least favorite to attend, so liven up, Ladybug. I’m about to show you my favorite place.” He parks in front of a small log cabin.

  “This is yours?”

  “Yep.”

  “And I’m the only soul you’ve told about it?”

  “Correct.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “You’re weird.”

  Finding my smile, I poke him in the shoulder.

  “No, your weird.”

  “I’ve concluded we’re both a little weird. Now, come on so I can show you around.”

  Grabbing the grocery bags, we head inside the cabin. I’m surprised over how small the kitchen and living room are, and I have a strong suspicion there’s only one bedroom, too. Setting my bags on the counter, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.

  “It’s quaint and reminds me of cabins in the Carolinas.”

  “I know it’s small, but that’s how I wanted it. It’s my refuge, and I plan to keep it that way.”

  I stroll over to the picture window and gasp from the view of the mountains. There’s a door to a deck, and I can’t resist walking out onto it to suck in the crisp air. Earth is what I smell, and a cool breeze is what I savor on my skin.

  “Breathtaking … I love it here,” I whisper.

  “So do I,” Greyson says as he comes up behind me. I jump from his presence, and I can’t look back at him. All I can focus on is the view before me. Low-hanging clouds shroud some of the rocky slopes, but the peaks stand tall above them.

  “What do you think of the view?”

  “It’s as if the trees are kneeling before their king … the way they line the basin.”

  From right behind me, Greyson grips my biceps. I flinch again but don’t pull away as he leans his head over against mine.

  “Sasha … I knew you’d see it the way I do.” I open my dry mouth to speak, but words won’t come out. Slowly, he turns me to face him. His hands cup my cheeks, his thumb skims across my lips, and I tremble uncontrollably in the process. “I want to kiss you.”

  “I–I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “That I want to or that I can?”

  “I won’t be able to handle you kissing me.” Looking to the door, I picture myself running.

  “Now, I’m more confused. Handle it as in you’d like it too much or would be repulsed by it?”

  Glancing back at him, I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t believe kissing you could be repulsive.”

  “Explain, weirdo.”

  Stifling a giggle, I slap his chest. “Don’t make me laugh because then you’ll think it’s OK for you to kiss me, which will result in me ruining your perfect place. I don’t want to create a bad memory for you at your special hideaway.”

  “So, what you’re saying is I’ll be repulsed by kissing you.”

  “Why do you have to be so charming?”

  “Why are you putting up a fight?”

  Humor vanishes from my existence, and my iron wall goes up.

  “Because fighting a man off is all I’ve known.” I stomp back in the house and head straight to the front door. I don’t know where I’m going, but it’ll
be far away from here. Greyson grabs my arm about the time I reach the door.

  “Stop running from me, and tell me why you’re fighting this.”

  “You want to know why? I’ll tell you two reasons. One, because unless I’m high, fighting a man off me is all I know to do when he touches me. Second …” I grab my hips and shake my head. “Wait, I shouldn’t have to tell you the second. You’re getting married, Greyson. Married.”

  “Maybe I won’t.”

  “I never dreamed my entire future balanced on the cliff of a maybe.”

  “That means you see me as a possible future.”

  “No, I see you as an impossible future. An unattainable future. A broken heart is what I see when I think of you and my future.”

  “I hear Whitney’s spending her time with another man. His name’s Sebastian, and he’s who she wants.” Pulling me to him, Greyson grips my chin. “I want you, and I believe you want me, too.”

  “That doesn’t change the other issue I have.”

  “No, but you trust me, or you wouldn’t be living in my house, so that means I can fix the other issue.”

  “I’ll stay, but I need time to consider the kiss.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “Let’s cook dinner; I’m hungry.”

  “Of course you are.” He winks, and my insides turn all gooey. It’s going to be impossible to resist Greyson’s sexiness. I want him to kiss me. I do more than ever, but I don’t know how I’ll feel once he begins. Maybe I’ll brave a chance to find out.

  Greyson

  Sasha and I are sitting on the deck after dinner. While we cooked cheeseburgers, I wooed her with my charm, and after we ate, a food fight ensued with the toppings.

  Best time ever.

  “I could sit out here all night, but we need music,” she says.

  “I can make that happen. I have vinyl.”

  “Really? My parents had a record player.” She hops to her feet, ready to see my stash of albums. “I loved setting the needle down and waiting through the pause for that first sound.”

  I start to shake my head but stop myself. She gets me without even trying. We go inside, and remembering the player and albums are in my bedroom, I decide it’s best to bring them out to the living room.