For the past year, 18 year old Camille has been getting away with four hours of sleep, a nine hour school day and an eight hour work day overnight. That is until her three teachers and a mystery guy walk into her diner one night.
NOTE: THIS IS A 'W...
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I don't know who started this food, but I've decided it's the best distraction at the moment.
I really don't feel like speaking to them all right now.
Zander just wouldn't take no for an answer and eventually carried me to the car when I refused to leave my brothers to fend for themselves. It was even more humiliating having him carry me in to my room here, parading me in front of the others.
I stir the chicken in with the seasoning, keeping my eyes purely on the pan. Just as I'm about to move, a hand wraps around my waist.
I stay still, willing my body not to respond to their touch as they pull my body flush to them and rest their chin on my shoulder. As much as I try to fight it, I find myself relaxing slightly in their hold, inhaling their masculine aftershave.
Gabriel.
"C'est pour ton bien, ma chérie," he mutters as he plants a kiss onto my shoulder. ("It's for your own good, my darling.")
"All I got from that sentence was it's and good, Gabriel," I sigh impatiently, rolling my eyes. He chuckles, making my heart race as the low voice reverberates from his chest to my body.
"Talk to me, ma chérie," he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He shivers, noticing the effect he has on me and pushes my hair to the side, kissing my neck slowly. I roll my head back to rest on him as I shut my eyes, feeling myself growing wet as he touches me.
"I can't do that if you're pre-occupying me, Gabriel," I sigh, keeping my eyes shut in pleasure.
"Try," he murmurs against my neck, not stopping. I bite back a moan as he finds my sweet spot, sucking on it lightly.
"I can't...ugh... Gabriel... please," I struggle to fight through my cloudy mind to form a coherent sentence.
"Do you know how pretty you sound when you beg, Camille?" he mutters against my skin, his accent thick. I stay quiet, shifting slightly as I start to feel uncomfortably wet from the sound of his voice and the assault on my neck.
"You seem very quiet, ma chérie," he teases, making me clench my thighs together. Summoning the last bit of self-restraint I have, I snap my eyes open and turn around, pushing him back a few steps as I glare at his amused face.
He holds up his hands in defence and winks at me before resting lazily against the counter opposite me. My eyes travel down his body, taking in the grey suit he has on today. His golden hair is ruffled in a rugged, sexy way that has me biting my lip at the sight of it. I catch a glimpse of his silver dog tag under his shirt and have to lean against the counter for support.
Closing my eyes, I recenter myself before opening them again, anger coursing through me again.
"You all just can't decide what the best thing for me to do is. My life isn't a democracy. This is not how it works. I should be able to do what I want without you guys interfering all the time," I scowl at him.
