Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (6 page)

The feel of his fingers playing with my hair gives me goosebumps
and I shiver as my scalp tightens, sucking up the pleasant attention. I do my first stupid-girl moment of my life. I shameless crush on a guy and let it turn my thoughts to mush.
“Okay, if you promise to call Albert first.” I try to negotiate with him and he gives me a naughty smirk for agreeing.

He backs me up
with his physical presence. His front touches mine- chest-to-chest. His lips part and breathes the smoky, whiskey scent onto my chin. My back hits the door behind me with an audible thump. He reaches around me and I don’t wince. I anticipate him touching me and crave it. Instead his hand twists the doorknob by my hip and I fall backwards.

I’
m pushed into a dark room until my legs connect with the edge of a bed. I can’t see anything and the only sound is our combined breathing. I feel alive with caution. I’m aware of every hair, every nerve on my flesh. My senses are so in-tuned that I can feel my system pumping the blood through my veins nourishing my whole body.

Light blazes nearly blinding me when Grant flips the light-switch. I look around the huge room.
It’s bigger than Ade’s, but I’m surprised to find it sparsely decorated and extremely neat. I wonder if this is a guestroom.

“This is my be
droom,” Grant says as he smiles at me. “My wife and I don’t share a room. We don’t touch. We don’t talk. We don’t fuck or make love. We have clinical sex to procreate and that’s never going to happen. You will never believe what my father suggested to me- no, not suggested- commanded of me. And the bitch thought it was a good idea. Being bossed around by your father is one thing- by your fucking wife is another. If it wasn’t for the fact that I can grab them, I’d swear she’s shorn off my balls. Don’t ever get married,” he warns.

His expression is clouded
. I wonder if he even knows he’s talking to me or if he thinks he’s talking to himself or maybe he doesn’t even hear himself and he thinks he’s thinking it.

He turns in a circ
le and wobbles to the side. He’s mad drunk. I want to be annoyed, but it’s amusing after the night I’ve had. If Whitt brings sunshine to this house, Grant brings humor.

“What was I doing? I was supposed to do something. What was it?” He turns in a circle again talking to
himself this time for sure.

“Oh! I know!” He proudly shouts. He hobbles over to the phone on his nightstand and presses the number three
with more force than necessary.

“Albert, I found Miss Regal wandering
the halls looking for a way home. Could you please meet us in my room so you can take her home?” He asks slowly.

He hangs up before he gets a reply. He claps
excitedly, evidently happy that he was able to speak a complete sentence without slurring any words. He sits on the foot of the bed next to me.

“What was I saying? Oh, right. At least they gave me the option of
whom. I chose you, and Cora went ballistic. Seeing her that way made me say I wouldn’t do it unless it was you. My father picked up on my reasoning and he looked proud that I was being defiant of the bitch. I won’t be cowed by a woman again.”

He keeps r
ambling like Ade does when she’s nervous, but in his case- drunk as a skunk. He reminds me of the deadbeat dads that weave down my street at two am coming home from the bar after spending their paychecks. I have no clue what he’s actually saying or what he means. It’s all slurred together into gibberish.

“There is something about you,” h
e smoothly says. Even drunk he’s charming and not the kind of charm that Cort kid tried to pull off. Grant’s charisma has an effect on me and I try to ignore it.

He’
s an adult- a man. His piercing blue eyes and wicked mouth that creates a dimple when he smiles are my undoing. I reach epic levels of stupidity.

“There’
s definitely something about you and I can’t put my finger on it,” he says as he slides a fingertip along my bottom lip. My breath hitches in my throat and my lips part in shock. I’ve never had anyone touch my mouth before. My lip quivers under his touch begging for more contact. I start to pant out puffs of air as he stares into my eyes. My lower stomach cramps screaming for something I don’t understand. A part of my body that has laid dormant my entire life blooms for this man. It’s so wrong and yet I want something just for myself.

His fingertip traces an outline of my lips. He licks his fingertip and closes his eyes as he sucks on his finger. I whimper as I watch the tip disappear between his full lips. He slowly draws it out and slides it over my mouth.
The contact makes me jump as if electrocuted. His fingertip slides silky smooth and tastes like whiskey- I moan.

My legs clamp together on the feeling building between my thighs. I hiss when a sensation I’ve never felt grows from the pr
essure. I clench my thighs a second time to see if it happens again. I moan loudly in surprise when it does.

“Are you a virgin?” Grant abruptly asks me in a
pleasant voice. I shake my head yes, too embarrassed to admit the truth out loud.

“Oh God,” he hisses and trails his moist finger down my chin, sliding it down the column of my neck, and
he settles it between my breasts. The pathway lingers on my skin.

He slowly leans
forward to kiss me. I can see his eyes and lips getting closer and closer and it’s maddening. I’m finally going to have my first kiss and it’s going to be with Ade’s married brother. I want to protest, but I’m caught in his gaze.

“Grant, Miss Regal
,” says Albert as he knocks loudly on the door. Grant snaps back from me with a look of shock. He runs his fingers through his straight hair mussing it up.

“Um-
we’ll be right there, Al.” He calls back.

“What’
s wrong with me, dammit?” I can tell it’s rhetorical when he runs his hands across his face trying to scrub his drunkenness away.

I get up from the bed in a daze. I don’t look back at Grant. I feel ashamed of myself for what I almost did. I open the door and walk over to Albert. He gives me
a confused look and asks if I’m ready to go. I barely hear him. It feels like he’s speaking through water. I watch in a daze as Grant hand Albert my school bag. I follow Albert out to the car and ride home with my mind in a complete fog.

Chapter Five

“Ma, here are your pills for the rest of the day until I get home from school. I may
be a few hours late tonight. I’m looking for a job for the summer.” I place a tray with several bottles of water, her toast for breakfast, crackers and shortbreads for a snack, and the pill bottle.

“Take two at a time from now on. I know that they won’t last as long, but that doesn’t matter. I will work part-time after school until I graduate. We’ll be okay- I promise.”

I look into her clouded green eyes. I’m not sure if she truly understands me anymore. It’s progressing at a faster rate than just a few weeks ago. I hide the tear that leaks from the corner of my eye as I kiss the top of her bare head. I walk to the closet in the main room and grab a satin scarf. I wrap it around her head so she doesn’t get cold. I tuck her blankets around her tightly as she takes her pills and swallows a few mouthfuls of water.

“I’ll be fine until you get home. Take your time and find a good job. Good luck at school today with you final.”
Her voice is rough from her illness. It’s no longer the melody I heard as a child. There is a hollowness that is present and I hope I forget the sound.

I don’t know where I find the courage to look at her, to listen to her voice. It hurts so much to look at the once, vital beauty reduced to a living skeleton.

I know people assume that cancer allows you to say goodbye to your loved ones, but an accidental death has one advantage: you get to remember your loved one as they were, not what they turned into.

My mother is a b
reathing corpse. I don’t want her to feel any of my discomfort so I still look her in the eye and touch her as I’ve always done.

I spend my ride
s to school shoving the pain deep down into a place inside myself and I lock it away the best I can- sometimes it tries to escape it’s confines and today is one of those days. Last night creeped me out and now my nerves are wearing thin.

“I have an intervi
ew at the electronics store. I’m taking my grades from my computer programming class as credentials. It should be enough to get me the job. If not, I have an interview lined up at the coffee shop down the block. I may apply for both and hope they can work together to create a schedule that doesn’t conflict with each other. I gotta go. I don’t wanna be late.”

I rush d
own the stairs escaping the harsh reality of my life running to the fantasy I see for my future. I will make it and I will do it with my brains. Nothing will stop me from leaving this shithole in the past.

“Whoa, Sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Roman drawls as he catches me before I take
a header off the bottom step.

“Sorry,” I say as I blush bright red.
I grip the front of his t-shirt to find my footing. I blush deeper when I realize I’m touching him. I pat his shirt down and step away, but his hand remains on my left shoulder.

“I don’t want to be late for the bus. It’s
a long trip to get to Hillbrook,” I say breathlessly.
He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and it swings back to his chin. I find his hair fascinating since it’s the complete opposite of mine. He tries again and finally the silky strands stay put- too bad, I liked watching them caress the side of his face.

What the hell is wrong with me? I blink to release my insane obsession with
his black hair.

“Shall I be your chauffe
ur this morning? I’m not as seasoned as old Albert, but I can get you to school early.” He releases me from his grip after holding me longer than necessary. I feel cold where his hand had heated my shoulder.

“You have a car?” I ask in shock. If you can afford a car you don’t live in this neighborhood. The last car we had was totaled when Dad was killed in the accident.
That was another lifetime ago.

“Of course I do. I have pickups to do or I’d have nothing to sell. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to carry on the subway. I’d get jacked. Come on, Sweetheart.”

Roman leads me to the rear of the building near the door to his apartment. I’ve seen the car sitting there, but never associated it with Roman. It’s a primer-colored, old beater that has more Bondo than metal. No one would bother a shitty car around here. Anything with any value would have been stolen instantly and it would stick out like a sore thumb, especially for a dealer.
I hop inside and get settled. It’s surprisingly clean for a twenty-year-old guy from this area. But the past four years I’ve learned that money doesn’t buy manners. The elite are gluttonous, filthy pigs too.

“How come you were out so late last night? I began to worry that the
y were going to keep you. If that happens make some time to tell me goodbye.” He smiles at me facing forward as he maneuvers through traffic. His eyes cut to the side to see how I reacted. I try not to show my alarm at the thought. Grant creeped me out last night, or rather, my reaction to him. I never want to go back to that cold house ever again.

“Ha,” I say laughing off the thought. It was too close for comfort.

“I fell asleep studying. My Latin final is this morning. I’m getting close to graduating,” I say excitedly.

“
I’ll study my ass off as long as I never have to set foot back into Hillbrook.” I shiver from the thought and button my cardigan for warmth.

“It can’t be that bad,” he says cutting his eyes to me again. The corner of his lips lift in a slight smile and the stirring in my stomach that awakened last night returns with a
vengeance.

The curve of his upper lip and the slope of his jaw hold my attention. I hope this sick fascination with anything male evaporates be
fore I get to school. Maybe it’s only targeting those who fascinated me before my body woke up. No matter how much I try to deny it, Roman was always on my radar. And who could resist Grant? My worst nightmare is Grant and Roman sitting in class next to me as I take my final exam. What’s the word people call this feeling? Horny, that’s the word- gross.

“The education is excellent. No way would I have gotten it at public school. It’s not even the kids that attend. It’s the attitude that
affects them. You and I have more freedom than they will ever see in a lifetime. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Really, it is.”

“If you s
ay it’s true then I believe you,” he says sincerely. “I’ll drop you off a block from the school. I don’t want to embarrass you.” He glances over his shoulder and starts to pullover to the curb.

“No, don’t,” I say as I place my hand on his forearm. “I won’t deny who I am. It’s important that I never fake anything for these assholes. I earned
this. It wasn’t a birthright.”

“Alright, Sweetheart, doorstop service as requested.” He swings into a spot directly in front of the old, gothic, stone
cathedral that houses the Hillbrook Preparatory School. The kids milling around outside of the school stare at us and gawk in superiority.