This seemed to calm him. As I left the room and closed the door behind me, I heard some sort of heavy metal Celtic music being turned on. I didn’t even know there was such a thing.
It took me forever to fall back asleep as puzzle pieces about Colin Douglas clicked into place. His roles of new master, savior, and now slavery-hater clashed like a total mind fuck in my foggy brain. I thought of all the things he’d had to do—the way he’d looked at me with a mixture of lust and something I couldn’t identify when I gave him that first blowjob. I knew now that the unfamiliar expression was regret—something nobody else felt at the villa. Deep down he hadn’t really wanted me to do that. Just like he hadn’t really wanted to have anal sex, but I’d torn the covers away. Had he been thinking about his brother, and all he’d been through, comparing us and feeling guilty? A torrent of blame soaked me now. Was he ashamed?
I wanted to talk to him. To tell him it was okay. He did what he had to do, and I was grateful. I wanted to properly thank him.
I thought about how he’d punished me with his bare hand. And…yeah…that memory surged like a heatwave straight between my thighs. Lying in bed, in the dark, feeling aroused, brought back helpless feelings of fear. I wasn’t allowed to feel this way.
Or was I?
My heart thrummed faster. Nobody was watching. No video cameras. No one would come to punish me. Nobody would even know. I could do it. I could take back this small piece of my old life and make it mine again.
I slipped a trembling, tentative hand into my underwear and found myself swollen, begging for attention. My breaths quickened as my fingers moved between my legs, rubbing all around that little sensitive spot. Faster and harder my fingers circled, kindling a fire deep in my belly.
I moaned, too loudly. My free hand grabbled the pillow and pressed it over my face as my other hand worked between my thighs. I felt reckless and rebellious. A spark caught and my hips flew up, grinding against my hand as an explosion rocked my core and I panted into the pillow, barely containing the scream I wanted to make as my clit convulsed in rhythmic bliss.
While my body came back down, pulsing with its residual release, I bit my lip and smiled, even let out a breathy laugh of triumph.
Take that, Marco.
Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could take back my life, one rebellious moment at a time.
I woke the next morning to the sound of mom’s voice, stern. I poked my head out the door and heard her conversing with Agent MacDonald at the entrance of the house.
“Yes, I understand and I agree it’s important, but she hasn’t even had a single day to rest and try to be normal.”
“There is no normal for her right now, Mrs. Birch, with all due respect—”
“With all due respect, of course there’s no normal when you’re stuck in a room with a shrink all day. I will not allow her to be questioned today.”
“I’m simply doing my job.”
“When your job interferes in my daughter’s healing and well-being, I take issue. We’re only talking about one day. You can come back tomorrow when Agent Douglas is back.”
God, I loved the sound of that tough Texan accent. It filled my chest with pride.
Agent MacDonald clearly wasn’t happy, but she left nonetheless and I wanted to clap.
Mom’s face was pinched and angry when she rounded the corner, but she relaxed when she saw me. “Mornin’, baby.”
“Mornin’,” I said.
“I got stuff to make your favorite meals today.” She beamed. “Oven fried chicken. Mac and cheese. Sweet tea. We’re gonna have us a good day.”
My mouth watered. I tried to smile, but I still felt like I didn’t deserve any of this. Mom took my hand, unperturbed by my wary attitude.
“Come on. You can help me. I’ll even let you shred the cheese.”
When our big, late lunch was ready I thought about Graham as Mom, Dad, and I prepared to sit.
“Can I invite Mr. Douglas’s little brother?”
“Of course,” Dad said, looking around. “Is he here?”
“Yes. I think he sleeps during the day, but I’ll wake him up.”
They looked like they didn’t know if that was a good idea, but I left to get him. When I hit the hall I had the urge to crawl, and I had to shake the thought away.
No more crawling.
I dragged Graham out of bed and presented the disheveled punk to my parents. To their credit they only batted surprised eyes for a second at his appearance before falling into hospitable mode, welcoming him to the table and asking him to eat as much as he could.
“Sorry ‘bout my hair,” he said, trying to press it down with his palm.
Mom waved off the comment and filled a plate for him.
I stared around the table at everyone else beginning to eat. Mom smiled at me, and I picked up my fork, knowing that’s what she wanted.
It was too much food. And so rich. I’d only cleared a quarter of my plate before I had to stop and clutch my stomach. Mom put a hand to my forearm.