Buttons and Deceit: Beyond Buttons #11

  BUTTONS AND DECEIT

  BEYOND BUTTONS #11

  PENELOPE SKY

  HARTWICK PUBLISHING

  CONTENTS

  1. Mia

  2. Vanessa

  3. Bones

  4. Vanessa

  5. Crow

  6. Bones

  7. Carter

  8. Mia

  9. Carter

  10. Mia

  11. Vanessa

  12. Bones

  1

  MIA

  I sat on the couch in my sweatpants and t-shirt, careful to look as unappealing as possible.

  But that didn’t seem to make a difference when Carter walked around in just his sweatpants all the time. I tried to seem as unattractive as I could, but since he showed off his godly figure all the time, it was impossible for me not to think of him in that way.

  He had a bottle of scotch on the table and helped himself to it all night while he watched the evening news.

  I couldn’t understand a word of it, so I lay there under the blanket and tried to pick up on the language. Small luxuries like TV weren’t important to me anymore because I’d lived without it for so long. Egor kept me in a dark room constantly. I wasn’t even left at liberty to pee.

  Carter picked up the remote and changed the channel. “I have a few American channels. You like comedies?”

  “I like English.”

  He turned on a popular sitcom in America, a show I used to watch growing up. The second I heard English, I felt a little better, a little closer to him.

  He tossed the remote on the table and returned to drinking. The large window behind him showed the grounds around his house, all cast in darkness with the exception of the evening lights that made the yard visible from the inside.

  He hadn’t tried to make a move on me since that moment in the kitchen. The second I said no, he listened, which was surprising since he accused me of lying about what I really wanted. But I still had power in this situation.

  Power to say no.

  It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, to say something and actually be heard. I missed my former life. I missed everything about how perfect it was. I missed the small freedoms I once had.

  All those things had been taken from me.

  But Carter gave some of them back.

  If I really tried to escape, I was taking a gamble. If I just left it alone, I could have a comfortable life here. I was a prisoner, but at least I had some liberty. If I crossed him, he would make good on his threats and change the dynamic. I wouldn’t have the same power I did before. As long as I remained cooperative, my life could be bearable.

  I would settle for it if I could…but that wasn’t possible.

  “Would you like something to drink?” He picked up the bottle for me to see.

  “No thanks.” I’d never been into hard alcohol. A glass of wine with dinner was nice, but nothing more than that. Carter drank all the time, starting after lunchtime. I’d noticed he hadn’t left the house much, seeming to do all of his work from home.

  He refilled his glass and kept drinking.

  “You drink a lot but never seem drunk.”

  He set his glass down and looked at the TV. “Because I’m always drunk. You’ve never seen me sober.”

  “Is it healthy to drink that much?”

  He shrugged. “Is it healthy to worry?”

  I could be quiet and watch TV, but I found him more interesting. He was an enigma, his motives unclear. He wanted to fuck me, but he wouldn’t actually go through with it until I gave my consent…unless I broke his rules. He allowed me to visit most of the house, to eat whenever I wanted, and enjoy his pool. Never did he speak down to me or raise a hand to me. He seemed like a very sexy roommate. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He turned back to me, his right eyebrow arched so high it nearly jumped off his face. “No. If I did, I wouldn’t be pressing my dick into your ass.”

  “So, you don’t have a girlfriend right now.”

  “I’ve never had a girlfriend. Do I strike you as the romantic type?” His eyes bored into mine, like he was offended by the question. “My sex life is one meaningless lay after another. Good sex with beautiful women is my game. Nothing more.”

  “So you’re just like every other handsome man out there?”

  “Meaning?”

  “The good ones never settle until the last minute. They have too many options, so they can’t make up their minds. But once they turn a certain age and their looks fade away, they find someone they like and finally settle down.”

  “Close,” he said. “But I genuinely have no interest in settling down.”

  “Not ever?”

  “No.” His eyes moved back to the TV. “I have a sister who will have children, so my family line will continue. My cousin carries my last name, and he has a kid on the way, so my surname will outlive me. I don’t need to have children.”

  “You don’t like children?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t want any of my own. My cousin is about to have his first child, so I’ll be an uncle. That’s enough for me.”

  I stared at him, pitying him. I could understand a man not wanting to settle with one woman, but not to have children was heartbreaking. Having a family was a blessing. Having someone to love with your whole heart was…indescribable. “It’s a shame.”

  “I disagree.” When he looked at me, it was with a twinge of hostility. “Don’t judge me. Don’t think you’re better than me. I know what I want out of life. You were the one stupid enough to get captured.”

  Within the snap of a finger, the peacefulness I felt sitting there with him faded away. I used to tolerate him, even like him, but that comment hurt far too much. He sliced a knife over a scar that hadn’t healed yet. He stabbed me in the heart even though my heart was already broken.

  He must have realized what he said, because he winced slightly then sighed, his eyes on the TV.

  I kicked off the blanket and stormed up the stairs, no longer interested in talking to him. Maybe I’d misjudged him. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed he had some good qualities. I should have assumed he was an asshole—just like my gut told me.

  He followed me a moment later. “Mia—”

  I reached the top of the staircase then turned around to look at him. “I’m not the one who bought some woman with cash to boost my ego. I’m not the one who keeps her as a prisoner even though she deserves to be free. I’m not the mama’s boy who pretends to be a good man, only to turn around and keep an innocent person against their will. Yes, I am better than you, Carter. I’m so much better than you.”

  He paused halfway up the staircase, listening to my speech with unblinking eyes. When he stepped up the stairs, his muscles shifted and moved under the skin. His eyes were full of pity, as if he genuinely cared about the way he made me feel.

  “A real man doesn’t need to force a woman on her back. He should be able to bed her without force.”

  “And have I forced you?” His deep voice echoed against the vaulted ceiling.

  “But you force me to live here without a purpose.”

  “You cook and clean—”

  “Go fuck yourself.” I turned around on my heel and stormed into my bedroom. I slammed the door behind me, hoping he wouldn’t follow me inside. I would rather stare at the wall in my room then look at his handsome face another second.

  The door opened a second later. “Mia—”

  “You should be fucking yourself. I gave very specific orders.” I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, my back against the wooden frame.

  “I’ll do that later tonight before I go to sleep.” He lowered himself to the spot on the ground beside me, keeping a few feet in between us.

  I hated myself for feeling slightly hot at that information. I even pictured him going to town on himself, sitting up against his headboard while he rubbed lube up and down his dick. I imagined him picturing me, not watching porn on his computer.

  “I take back what I said. It was an asshole thing to say.”

  “Because you are an asshole.” With my arms crossed over my chest, I stared straight ahead at the wall in front of me. I could smell him beside me, a mixture of shampoo, shaving cream, and cologne. He had a distinct scent, like leather and oak.

  “I don’t disagree with that. I just hate it when people get on my case about not wanting a family.”

  “Who gets on your case about it?”

  “My mother.” He faced forward, looking at the same wall. “She says I’m getting old. Instead of fucking around, I need to focus on finding a nice woman who will put up with me, who wants me for me and not my money. And she wants me to have my own family…because having me is the greatest joy she’s ever known.” He shook his head slightly. “My father and I have a different kind of relationship. We’re close, but we talk about other things like guns, sports, work, stuff like that. But when my mom talks to me about stuff, she has this special way of making me feel guilty. So when I tell her I don’t want a family…she looks so heartbroken. Now you’re giving me shit about it, and I just get defensive. Doesn’t give me the right to say that to you…so, I’m sorry.” He didn’t look at me, not the way he did earlier. Sometimes he was aggressive and intense, filling the entire room with silent hostility. At other times, he seemed like a nice guy…like now.

  “I wasn’t judging you. I just wanted
you to know that having children is a wonderful experience. You shouldn’t write it off as something you don’t want…not when you don’t understand how great it can be.”

  “Women always think having children will be this wonderful experience. Well, I can tell you that my mother had one hell of a time raising me. Stealing the car in the middle of the night, sneaking girls up to my room, taking my father’s gun without permission… I did a lot of crazy shit when I was growing up. Nearly gave my mother a heart attack a few times.”

  I kept staring at the wall, doing my best to keep my breathing under control. Tears burned deep behind my eyes, making my throat constrict painfully. My hands came together, and I rubbed my palms against one another, fidgeting in place so I would have something to do. Heartbreak welled up inside me, and it was almost enough to make me fall apart.

  Carter kept looking forward, oblivious to the emotions that raged deep inside me.

  I couldn’t sit with him anymore. I couldn’t pretend to be okay when I wasn’t. Now there was no possibility of me staying here. Even if Carter’s apology was sincere, I had to get out of here. Regardless of the consequences, I had to escape. I belonged somewhere else. Just because I’d been unlucky enough to be captured didn’t mean I should remain a prisoner forever. Even if I died trying, I was going to get out of here.

  I had to.

  * * *

  Now that I’d made my decision, I searched for every opportunity.

  Carter woke up at the same time every day, whether it was by an alarm clock or naturally. He had his coffee and breakfast in the dining room, read the newspaper, took some phone calls, and then he went for a run around his property before he hit the gym near the garage. That was when he turned off the alarm system.

  When he was in the garage, I did a quick sweep of the house, searching for weapons taped underneath the tables or hidden behind picture frames. I searched every corner of the house, taking advantage of the times when I knew he would be distracted.

  But he wiped the place clean.

  The only weapons in the house were the knives in the kitchen. Before I slipped out, I would take the biggest steak knife I could find. I didn’t want to use it on Carter, but if he didn’t give me a choice, I would stab him right in the heart.

  This was about survival. I wasn’t going to stop until I was the victor.

  I had a phone that couldn’t do anything besides make phone calls to Carter, but it did have a camera. I purposely set it up on the kitchen counter behind one of the crocks that held the spatulas and spoons. I hid the other part of the phone behind the salt and pepper shakers, allowing the camera a full view of the alarm pad. After charging the phone all night and making sure it had enough battery, I kept the camera on and recorded everything in the kitchen.

  Then I did my best to pretend it was a normal day.

  I made pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. I slid everything onto the plate just when Carter walked into the kitchen. Shirtless and barefoot, he walked inside with his kissable tanned skin. His hair was messy from running his fingers through it. Deep brown eyes looked into me, looking me up and down with obvious interest. After our fight the other evening, he’d returned to normal, not disguising the things he wished he could do to me. “Can I get you anything?”

  He grabbed the coffee pot and refilled his mug. “More coffee.”

  I faced forward again, sprinkling the powdered sugar on top along with the maple syrup. The alarm pad was behind me, the buttons lit up with blue light. The camera was tucked away on the counter, hidden behind the kitchen gear. The red light was on in the front, but I put a piece of tape over it to hide the glow. A part of me felt guilty for what I was doing, but the guilt also made me feel worse.

  I shouldn’t feel guilty.

  He turned around and leaned against the counter, sipping from his mug while he watched me.

  I could feel his stare at the nape of my neck, feel his desire fill the room. He had a natural way of occupying the entire space with his intensity, of bringing an invisible cloud into the room. It was suffocating, like high humidity in the middle of August. “I’m almost done.”

  “Take your time.” He kept sipping his coffee, one hand resting on the counter.

  I continued to wear the same stoic expression, focusing on my hands. I arranged the pieces of bacon along with the eggs. Normally, he took egg whites and fruit, but today, he seemed to splurge a little more.

  My heart was beating so fast. I could hear the pounding in my ears, and I hoped he couldn’t hear it too. I wasn’t just unnerved by this beautiful man’s stare. I was unnerved by the possibility of him discovering my plan. If he did, all of this would be over.

  I cleared my throat and carried his plate into the dining room. Instead of following me, he stayed behind. I set down his silverware and hoped he would join me, but he never did. I breathed a little harder, afraid he’d noticed the phone hidden behind the crock. I turned around and walked back into the kitchen, seeing him at the counter still, over six feet of carved muscle and tanned skin.

  His eyes followed my movements.

  What was going on? “I just put your breakfast down.”

  He sipped his coffee again.

  Now I really was terrified. Did he know what I was doing?

  He held his mug at his waist, licking his lips as he looked at me.

  I tossed the garbage, doing my best to ignore him. If I acted innocent, then he would have no reason to be suspicious of me.

  He finally headed toward the dining room. “I want you to join me.” Then he walked out, his footsteps growing quiet as he rounded the corner.

  When he was gone, I finally released the air I was storing in my lungs. When he was intense like that, hovering and staring, I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. All I could do was wait and hope my paranoia was the only threat in the room.

  I put food on my plate then joined him in the dining room.

  Instead of looking at his phone like he usually did, all of his attention was focused on me. He sat at the head of the table, his elbows resting on the tablecloth. He stabbed his eggs before placing them in his mouth, but he didn’t watch his movements because he was looking at me so intently.

  “Yes?” I kept my eyes downcast, refusing to meet his gaze and solidify the connection between us.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “But you’re staring at me.”

  “I have to look at something, right?” He placed another piece of food into his mouth. He chewed it with his strong jaw, the muscles in his face working together as he moved. Even the cords in his neck shifted at the movements. He made the most rudimentary movements undeniably sexy.

  “There’s a window right there.” I nodded to the large window that overlooked the front of his house. “And a beautiful landscape to boot.”

  “True.” He glanced outside at the lawn before he looked at me again. “But I prefer this beautiful landscape.” He returned to eating, watching me with his searing gaze that could melt panties right off a pair of hot legs.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, but I brushed off his comment. “What a line.”

  “I don’t have lines. I say what I want. Sometimes it gets me laid. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

  “Are you trying to get laid?” I countered.

  He set his fork down and sent me a harder expression than he had before. “I’ve been trying to get between your legs from the second I bought you, the instant I saw your naked body on that stage. Your tits are unbelievable. Your face becomes even more beautiful when you’re pissed at me. I wonder how beautiful it looks when you’re coming around my fat dick.”

  My nipples hardened under my shirt, and I did my best to remain indifferent to his words. My fork stabbed the eggs on my plate, and I kept my gaze averted, trying to play the part. But my breathing quickened noticeably. My thighs tightened together under the table, but thankfully, he couldn’t see that. This beautiful man made me feel the kind of desire I hadn’t felt in years, but I refused to act on it.