Episode 5

I arrived home, and upon entering, the first thing I saw was Elle, which made me sigh. If I had said I wouldn't be home, why did she have to come?

"You're home, love!" She nearly threw herself at me when she saw me. "What's that smell?" She covered her nose with her hand.

"What else would I smell like, Elle? Don't be dramatic," I said, pulling away from her,probably reeking of Jackie.

"I don't know, it's some strange, cheap fragrance," she said with disgust.

"I'm going to my room," I slipped past her and headed to my bedroom. I needed a shower. As much as I didn't want to wash her scent off me, I had no choice.

I took a long shower, so engrossed that I didn't notice when Elle slipped into the shower completely naked. My eyes couldn’t help but travel over her petite frame; being a model, you can imagine how thin she is.

Jackie isn’t fat at all; she has a killer body, well-proportioned, with her brown eyes and curly black hair; she is a sight to behold. And here I am, thinking about that woman again, unable to comprehend why I can’t get her out of my head.

Elle grasps me firmly, and I'm already hard, though I am not sure if it’s because of her or because I’m thinking of a certain someone. Again, lost in thoughts of her, Elle crouches beside me, massaging gently. She looks up at me, but I close my eyes, not wanting to face that I wish it were brown eyes watching me.

I let her please me, knowing she tries to do things the way I like them, but there's something missing.

Afterward, I step out of the bathroom, having been intimate with her.

Elle wraps herself in a blanket and falls asleep. I know I’m despicable, less than two hours ago, I was devouring my "chocolate," and now I've been with Elle, but in my defense, I didn't seek her out; she came to me on her own. I don't like that she tries to stay over every day, one of these days, I won’t be able to see my “negra.”

I head to the kitchen for water, not wanting to go to the bedroom and sleep with Elle. I feel suffocated.

Exiting through the service door, I walk until I can see the house where she lives with her mom. The light in her room is on; she's awake. I’m overtaken by a wild urge to go and tap on her window, but I refrain. I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t give in to these feelings.

I decide to sleep in one of the other rooms, not wanting to return to mine. I wake up to the chatter of the maids.

"Good morning, Mr. Cameron," greets Matilde, the maid in the kitchen with Jackie.

"Good morning," I reply. She blushes, and I don’t get why until I follow her gaze down to my pants, I have a morning erection.

"Excuse me, sir," she says before rushing out, clearly startled, which makes me chuckle.

After another shower and getting dressed, I join my parents for breakfast.

"Good morning," I greet everyone.

"Good morning, son. I was just telling your father that next Friday is my birthday, so I'll have a small gathering," I can already imagine just how “small” it will be.

My mother is strict and controlling; since I can remember, she has always wanted to run things her way. She's over-the-top and sometimes I think she’s cruel, but I guess it’s just her nature. She and my father don’t get along well, always arguing, while my father avoids conflict and just lets her rant. Grandma and mom are like oil and water, very different.

My father has a rare eye color, a distinct blue inherited from our ancestors, one that I share. But it makes me ponder, my sister Mia has hazel eyes, and I can't understand why. Mom always has some convoluted explanation, but I never pay attention.

Glancing at my grandmother, she has blue eyes; so does my mother.

I don’t want to dwell on it for fear of drawing conclusions I won’t like.

I catch the scent of Jackie, and our eyes meet, stirring something inside me.

"Good morning," Elle arrives, ruining the moment, wearing pajamas as if she plans to move in.

Jackie dashes off right away; I know she's upset, though she shouldn't be, I’ve always been honest with her, always clear about where we stand.

At the office, I work on the specs the Russian sent for the exclusive car he wants built for his daughter's birthday. The design is demanding, but I feel up to the task and more.

Days pass, and Elle's constant presence at home makes it harder to see Jackie. I'm desperate for her, dreaming of her on me, sweating and moaning my name every night. I can't understand why, but she's impossible to shake from my thoughts.

Tomorrow's Mom’s birthday, making it even less likely to see Jackie. So, I decide to visit her at the university; otherwise, my mood, already sour, might just explode.

I leave the office late, timing it with her university dismissal. Jackie and I don't call or text each other; she understands this and respects it.

I reach the university and see her laughing heartily with a guy. It bothers me how she laughs so freely because of him. I wait in my car, refusing to make a scene or fight over a woman.

The guy opens the car door for her, and they part with a simple cheek kiss. I decide to follow them, needing to know the nature of their relationship.

They head straight to my house. I park a prudent distance away and watch the benign exchange before she bids farewell to him.

She seems to hesitate at the front door, and my heart races when she approaches me.

"Why are you spying on me?" she asks, arms crossed.

"You're crazy, woman. Cameron Dubois would never spy on a woman," I retort seriously.

"That's not what it looks like. What are you up to, Cameron? What do you want?"

In an instant, I’m out of the car and pinning her against it.

"I want you, all of you," I push my arousal against her. "Feel how you light me up." I run my tongue up her neck, eliciting a reaction I’m all too familiar with.

"You're insane, Cameron. I'm leaving", she tries to pull away, but I won’t let her.

"I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but let me be with you, or I swear I’ll go mad." I whisper in her ear the way she likes it.

"Cameron," she nearly moans my name, and I capture it in a kiss.

"Go to my room in a bit. I'll be waiting."

"No, what's wrong with you? I'm not going to the same room where..."

She cuts off, but I know what she means.

"I'll wait for you in the guest room." I kiss her again, "I’ll send a message when I'm there."

This is necessary because I don't know if Elle is lurking around; her constant presence is suffocating.

Upon entering the house, there she is again. I glare at her, unable to accept how my mother's slowly integrating Elle into the household.

"Good evening," I greet them, focusing on Elle, "I thought I made myself quite clear this morning."

"But I thought you were just playing," she claims, taken aback.

"Son, don't be rude to Elle. She's staying over at my request," interjects my mother.

"Mom, I'm old enough to decide if I want someone to stay over or not. And I've already said no. You've forced her on me all week, I'm warning you, she's not staying tonight. She can stay, sure, but not with me," I make my stance clear before excusing myself.

I enter the room, throwing everything around in a fit of rage, losing my cell phone in the process. And to my frustration, I realize I have no way to let her know we won’t be able to meet.

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