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9. Wrong

My heart beat fast. I had just run out on Mr. James out of all people. Was I going to get kicked out? I was surely in trouble for my stupid behaviour.

A few minutes passed and I calmed down, realising that nobody would follow me to my room. If they wanted to punish me, they would already be here.

I decided to change into my pyjamas. I wanted to escape my guilt by sleeping in early.

My loose shirt was already on. I took my pants off and searched for the rest of my pyjama on the bed. That was when Mr. James entered. Couldn't he have waited for a few minutes? Or knocked? What happened to 'manners are welcome in this house'?

All he said was, "Stella." Then he quickly closed the door behind him and sat down next to my bed - on the luxurious designer ceramic floor out of all places.

It was an odd view. Mr. James sitting on the floor. He looked more down-to-earth than usual.

I was frozen in my pose on the bed. My pyjama shirt was not doing a good job of hiding my panties and to be honest, Mr. James noticed.

"Come here," he said and patted lightly on the bed, telling me where to sit.

"But..." I was going to say 'I want to get dressed', but I was interrupted.

"I do not care."

I slowly moved towards the right edge of the bed and sat down. It was curious to be this close to Mr. James in my attire. He did not seem phased, he had a stern look on his face. What I noticed was that he did not look up to me.

"I know you told me to not to..." I started talking, but he intervened. Mr. James put his hands on my knees and the sudden touch almost made me jump out of place. His touch was warm, most definitely hot.

"Have I treated you wrong, Stella?"  He spoke in a steady, deep voice.

I shook my head because I was speechless. My body reacted to his touch in a way that was unknown to me before.

"Talk, Stella." You are making it hard for me to talk, Mr. James. "I mean it. I want to hear your voice."

He started ca.ressing me. His hands moved on my legs, but they did not go further up on my thighs. Mr. James made slow movements, but they were effective.

"No, never," I managed to say, but I sounded all kinds of breathless.

"You can always talk to me, Stella. Whatever you feel like saying, say it to me. If you are hiding something, reveal it," he told me. I felt him to my c.ore. It was the most intimate experience of my life and he was only touching my legs. Nobody had ever touched any part of me. I was excited, but also kind of scared.

I felt bad for it, but I lied anyway, "I am not hiding anything from you, Mr. James."

"So you do not have any feelings for my son?" he asked me. Mr. James confused me. Did he, or did he not know about my deal with Stephen?

I shook my head and said, "No, I do not have any feelings for Stephen."

"Then why are you defending him?" I could sense a tiny bit of jealousy in that question.

"Can I be honest with you?" I asked him.

"What kind of question is that? All I want from you is honesty, Stella," he simply stated.

"I care about him, Mr. James. I think you have misunderstood him. You two barely spend anytime with each other. He is your son after all," I revealed my thoughts.

"What makes you an expert on human relationships?"