Just Desserts- GxG

Chapter 3- Sleigh What You Need to Sleigh

"Oh come on Harley. Where's all that backtalk and loud mouthed confidence at now?"

I'm nearly shaking, I'm so overwhelmed. I can't feign innocence or even a level head when I'm being confronted by the biggest mistake I've ever made. The one decision I've truly regretted my entire life.

I finally manage to form words. They sound harsh in the unforgiving confines of this metal box, even though I don't mean for them to be.

"Why are you here Camry? What do you want from me?"

She goes radio silent for so long I would think she had left if it weren't for the fact that I hadn't heard the elevator doors sliding open or the tell tale heels click clacking away from me.

"I don't want anything from you. Not anymore." She finally responds, in a tone I can't quite place.

I slowly drop my hands from my face. Instead of looking up at her, because I'm a coward, I let my gaze travel to her heels. They are expensive, no doubt, and acceptable for a work environment. But, much like the rest of her attire, they straddle the line between professional and tantalizing.

She has beautiful feet, which is something I didn't remember about her. I've never been the type to pay much attention to that particular body part. They are slender, symmetrical, and French tipped with the same shade of maroon as my favorite tie. The same shade as the lipstick I've seen her wear around the office more often than not. The way her feet are arched in the 4 inch heels looks painful to me, but in a way I've always found sexy.

"You hunted me down in Houston after 14 years, got a job where I work, but you want nothing from me?" I ask in obvious disbelief.

She scoffs. "You are so unbelievably conceited. You think you're Earth, and everyone around you should act like little moons, revolving around you because you're that important. I promise you, if people were to truly center their lives around a handsome stud who's good with technology, there's surely a smarter, sexier one out there somewhere."

She says it in a condescending manner, but I heard the unintended compliments buried within her rude comment.

"I deserved that." I say flatly, my eyes dialing in on a small tattoo I had never noticed, on the side of her foot. My head even tilts to get a better look. It's in a spot easily hidden, and it looks like a crescent moon. It's in the midst of a blue fire, with flames that lick up the sides of its silver tinted edges. How odd. I wonder if she has any more.

Upon closer inspection I see the fiery ring around the moon is actually a blue sun sitting behind it. It's caught the moon on fire. Or maybe the moon is a part of the sun...or in it? It's hard to say.

"You deserve more than that. I'm thinking, since it was fate that clearly dropped you in my lap, maybe I should finally make you pay for the hell you caused me."

"You want an apology from me Camry?" I ask, looking up. I'm frustrated, and feeling backed into a corner, and the anger drags my eyebrows down and lights my eyes with a dangerous glint.

She looks down at me with much the same expression, arms crossed and towering over me with malicious intent in narrowed eyes.

"Would it be too much to ask, Harley? Do those smooth talking lips of yours not know how to form words of actual importance?"

I sigh deeply, before saying, "I'm sorry, Camry. You didn't deserve to be used like that." But I can't look her in the eyes when I say it. I'm too ashamed, and although I want more than anything to be able to show her how deeply apologetic I am, down to my very marrow...I just don't see it happening.

Because I literally can't think of a way to make it happen. So immediately I resign myself to defeat, hoping she will take my words and depart from my life with some semblance of resolution.

And that, my friends, was nothing more than a pipe dream.

Which I realize all too quickly when I feel a stiletto heel dig into my chest, pushing me with enough force to pin me to the cool metal of the wall.

"I don't believe you." She growls, and I refocus on her face to see my words have only stoked the twin blue flames in her eyes. I sink down the wall a little further, trying to escape the painful pressure she's applying with the small, deadly tip of her footwear.

"And I don't forgive you, if that's all you have to offer Jamison. It's pathetic. After the hell I went through? Dragged to church 3 times a week for prayer and meetings with the pastor. Being forced to recite verses on homosexuality several times a day. I was an infection in my family, one they decided to ship off to another country in the hopes I would straighten up and not taint their reputation any longer.

"And when I came back? They still treated me different. Dad wouldn't even allow me to work in his company. Instead they sent me here, to work as an assistant to his old, pervy business associate. Richard fucking Boward.

"For the past several months I've had to survive that creep's incessant advances, and attempt to ignore the workplace rumours of me being his mistress or some kind of sugar baby. Not to mention the fact that the entire reason my life has been turned upside down, has been strutting around, feeding into those horrible lies, and doesn't even think me a big enough speed bump in her sexual escapades to remember who the the fuck I am."

I look away, so fucking ashamed it's unhealthy.

"I remember who you are Carmilla." I say so quietly, if it weren't for the absolute silence in this metal box, I doubt anyone would have heard me.

"I might not have recognized you, but I...I could never forget you. I think about you every night, the girl you used to be at least."

Her heel eases up a fraction, but she says nothing.

I grow restless in my uncomfortable situation, and my tumultuous head space.

"What can I do to lessen some of the resentment? I realize I can't fix this. But since you're here, tell me what I can do, Camry. I'll do anything."

For a long minute, in which I'm still avoiding her gaze, she's quiet. But in a flash, the pain is gone.

I take a deep breath, the stiletto heel leaving a ghost remnant of pain in my sternum.

"You can't fix this. You can't undo any of the hell you have put me through. Do you know how fucking furious I've been all these years with you?" Her voice raises with each word, in pitch and volume, until she realizes she's losing her composure and cuts herself off abruptly. When I look up at her she's biting her bottom lip to keep herself from speaking.

Immediately I feel a pang of arousal hit low. I've always been attracted to Camry, but now that I'm reconciling her with the Carmilla I knew, the attraction has doubled. That realization leaves me unsettled, and feeling like an even bigger piece of shit than before.

Another memory surfaces, of the Carmilla I knew.  Just a flashback of her biting her lip, as I trailed kisses down her stomach. They way she worked her bottom lip over while I traveled lower, towards my ultimate destination, while teasing her with my tongue.

The truth is, I liked fucking Carmilla that night. She was adorable when she was flustered by my attention. She was cute when she attempted to flirt back. She was low key sexy once her confidence was coaxed out of her with soft touches and gentle kisses. And she is an absolute harbinger of sexual devastation, now that she's come into her own.

She could devastate me in the type of ways that could eviscerate my carefully constructed walls.

"You know what you can do for me, Harley?" She says in a ominous tone dripping with venom. Still, I look up at her with wide eyes and a hopeful expression because I can't help but feel like this could mean progress for us.

"Take off your shirt."