Deviant: Calla & Jason (The Billionaire Voyeur)

CHAPTER 4 - Jason

My back is killing me. I'm sure sleeping in the woods would be more comfortable than the ground here in this room. There's no way I can keep this up for too long, but for now, I won't say anything to Calla; I don't want her to feel guilty. She's still asleep anyway, looking quite comfortable on that bed.

I take a moment to check her out. Like me, she stayed fully clothed, only taking off her shoes. She is lying on her tummy, wearing her jeans and T-shirt; she ignored the teddies and other soft-looking nightwear that had apparently been put out for her.

"I don't know where that stuff's been," she'd said. "Besides, where would I change? There's nowhere to hide in here."

"I'll turn around."

"Thanks, but I just don't feel comfortable. With any of this."

Way to state the obvious, Calla!

I'm not comfortable in any way myself—except for being near her; I always feel comfortable around her. Calla, to me, feels like a really old friend, and it's probably because she sort of is. Calla, Scott and I went to the same junior high school, and she probably had no idea of my crush back then—too busy making goo-goo eyes at Scott. She and I became really good friends in eighth grade, and then Scott swooped in in the ninth. As the new guy, he suddenly had everyone's attention, but Calla won him in the end. The funny thing is, Scott and I had gone to the same elementary school. We recognized each other almost immediately, and formed an easy friendship from then. I don't know how much of it on my part was to keep a close eye on him now that he had Calla's attention, and I don't want to think about it too much; he and I are truly good friends today. As much as I adore Calla, and would love nothing more than to have her in my arms instead, I respect him, and I want her to be happy; I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize my relationship with any of them.

I turn away from Calla just as she switches positions, her eyes still closed, and I try not to think about how vulnerable her lips are to mine in that moment.

I could do it—I could get away with finally planting a kiss on her, but I won't, and not just because her eyes could suddenly pop open and catch me.

Then I think, what the hell—what could she really do but get mad for a few seconds? Maybe longer, sure—she'd hold it against me, but I'd just pretend I was just staring at her. "Because you're so beautiful—to me, anyway." I'd tell her that. I'd watch her cute little face flush with embarrassment, those brown eyes framed with lush lashes look away.

She's a doll, and Scott knows he's lucky to have her, but for some guys, no matter how delicious their girl is, one is not enough.

Scott's a fool.

I remember this story my dad read to me when I was younger—an Aesop fable, about this dog and his bone. The dog was crossing a bridge or something on his way home, and all excited about this juicy bone he found. But then he caught sight of his reflection in the water below the bridge and thought it was another dog with a bone. Being the greedy bastard he was, he wanted that dog's bone too, so he opened his mouth to snatch it, and of course, his bone fell into the water and was lost.

Well, part of me hopes that anyway—that with Scott getting so greedy, word of his infidelity will get around to Calla and help push her into my arms. But I don't really want Calla to find out—it would crush her. She's so naive to think he couldn't and wouldn't cheat on her, but the physical distance between them just makes it easier. Jesse sure as hell isn't her only worry.

I find myself coming to a decision.

I'm glad this kidnapper dude—whoever he is—gave me this opportunity. I don't care what he's getting out of it—I have every intention of making Calla mine, in every way, before we leave here.

I place a peck on her lips and then settle back onto my place on the ground.