Page 34 of The Good Girl Effect
You say I don’t belong here, but you are wrong. I do belong here. I don’t know why I came up to your room today, and I don’t know why I opened that armoire, but something was calling me to.
What I found today in that room has made me very curious, and I know you are the best person to teach me. Whatever it is, I just want to feel what it’s like.
I’ve done my research. I know what it is you enjoy, and I’m not some naive virgin who is afraid of being hurt. I know it doesn’t have to be about sex, so I’m not asking for anything inappropriate. We can keep things innocent.
I think you want to teach me. I felt the way you touched me today. I heard the way you reacted. You can deny it all you want, but we both know that this could be good.
One thing you should know about me is that I’m stubborn. I don’t give up easily, and I always put up a fight.So the more you push me, the more I push back. The more you try to silence me, the louder I will be.
And since you won’t let me speak, this is the only way to reach you.
I’m trying to be patient with you. I will give you grace and patience while you work through whatever it is you need to work through, but you and I have more in common than you think. Because I think you’re as stubborn and curious as I am.
If you don’t want me to talk to you, that’s fine. I won’t. But I still want to know what those ropes feel like. I want to know what it’s like to let you tie me up in them. I want to know what it feels like to submit.
Please.
Show me.
Camille
A rumbling groan climbs its way out of my body as I run my hand over my five-o’clock shadow. I read the letter nearly ten times before deciding how the fuck to feel about this.
Those last two words make my cock twitch in my pants:Show me.
Does she even know what she’s asking of me? She thinks this doesn’t have to be about sex, so she clearly doesn’t understand what it would feel like to be bound and submissive for another person. Because it might notbeabout sex, but it’s definitely going to blur some very serious lines.
“No,” I say to myself as I set the letter on the table. “Absolutely not.”
I sound out of my mind, speaking to no one in the room as I stand from the bed and pace the empty space. Part of me wants to march right back downstairs and tell her emphatically that this is out of the question.
She’s my employee. I’m her boss.
My daughter is our only priority, so abusing this working relationship would only put Bea in harm’s way. The right thing to do would be to keep things professional and tell Camille that we cannot do anything that would be considered inappropriate.
But as I unbutton my shirt and tear it from my shoulders, I imagine her long blond curls braided down her naked back. I picture her small wrists bound behind her. I picture a blindfold over her eyes and her empty mouth at the right height to take my cock.
“Fuck!” I bark as I bury my fingers in my hair.What am I doing?I can’t think things like that. That is exactly what I shouldnotbe doing.
Trying to distract myself, I go to the bathroom down the hall and close myself in. I don’t have to remove my pants to know my cock is stiff and pulsing with need.
“Stop it,” I berate myself, trying to carry on with my normal night routine before going to sleep. By the time I’ve finished brushing my teeth, my cock has managed to soften to a manageable state.
I’m a monster for even having to think that.
Dammit, Camille.How could she ask me that? She really has no idea the effect she has on me, and clearly, neither did I until this moment.
Returning to my room, I know there won’t be an ounce of rest for me until I respond to her in some way. So I go down the hall to my office and sit in the dim room with only a small lamp on the desk to illuminate the blank white page.
With a pen in my hand, I quickly scrawl my reply. But every few lines, I decide I hate my response, and I tear the page from the pad and ball it up before throwing it in the trash. Every excuse feels wrong.
It would be inappropriate.
I am your employer.
Contrary to what you assume, I do not share these feelings with you.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
