Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Madeline

Although I grew up in a fairly religious family, I can't recall ever feeling guilty about sex. Of course, part of being godawful wealthy is that you don't really deal with the same kinds of rules that other people do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not defending that. Hell, most of my adult life involves doing all I can to use my family money to do good in the world rather than just enjoying the benefits of being wealthy.

Anyway, where was I?

Right. Guilt and sex. The two things just don't go together for me. Most certainly, I don't feel guilty about masturbation.

And for the last four days, masturbation and I are pretty damned well acquainted.

I don't feel guilty about the orgasms I give myself over the last few days but I can promise you that I don't feel good about them, either. I sure as hell don't feel good about them. I'm angry as hell at myself in fact.

Why in the world am I spending so much time imagining Lucas fucking me silly on the loveseat?

But I am.

I mean, I think I ordinarily masturbate once a week or so. Now I'm like two or three times a day! My mind goes crazy, too. I mean, I imagine being in all sorts of positions on that loveseat. On top of him, beneath him, bent over the arm, on my hands and knees.

I even masturbate on the loveseat a couple of times!

Before that, the shower and the bedroom are the only places for me.

Anyway, I don't feel guilty about it but you can sure as hell believe that I feel angry about it. I mean, not right now. Right now, I'm whispering, "Please, Lucas. Please, no! Please!" as I imagine him ignoring my protests and fucking me regardless of me begging him not to.

Yeah, I don't feel guilty about fantasies like that, either. You know you have them, too.

And right now, I don't feel guilty as I cry out, "Lucas! Lucas!" and my move my fingers like crazy until I finally can't move them anymore and I just lay there on my bed and stare upward until the images of Lucas leave my mind as my vision clears and I see the ceiling overhead.

"Fucking idiotic whore!" I hiss.

Okay. The anger is here now. I don't mind the almost violent fantasies but I very much mind that I put Lucas's face on the fantasy man doing it!

"You fucking, stupid bitch!"

I roll out of bed and stomp to the shower. I'm pretty free with the recriminations, and I can promise you if I were talking to another girl and not myself, you'd think I'm an unmitigated, absolutely horrible cunt.

But I would never talk to another girl this way because there's no other girl on Earth so fucking stupid that she would end up obsessing about the asshole who stands between me and the chance of actually transforming the lives of countless struggling families.

Damn it.

And he also stands between me and failure. It's like he's my fucking tormentor and my defender at the same fucking time!

We have a meeting today. With my contractor. He's going to explain directly what the contractor can do to meet the fire code requirements. It's going to be more torture, I know it. Apart from the irritation of trying to get someone who doesn't give a damn to work with me where the construction is concerned, I have to deal with being obsessed with him.

Damn it.

I head to the shower, and I get angry with myself because I actually start masturbating again!

Well, I stop.

And even though it's a tiny victory, like some kind of an idiot, I feel proud of stopping. Like somehow resisting masturbation once in the last several days is a victory.

I'm in a bad mood when I get to the ranch, and I can't deny that I end up in a worse mood shortly after the contractor arrives. That's because Lucas arrives as well, and he's not giving the contractor any easier a time dealing with the issues than he gave me.

But what really ticks me off, to be honest, is that from the way the contractor reacts, I think he's hiding something.

Which is only a step away from believing that Lucas is right.

There are certainly things in this world that are worse than Lucas actually being right about the construction and the codes but I'm having a very hard time coming up with any of them.

Did I mention worse?

Yeah, that's when I see the lawyers pull up. I groan as they get out of their cars. Since Lucas is pointing something out with the weatherstripping or something, I'm stuck there alone. "What do you want?" I ask when they're close enough.

"Look, Maddy," Norman says.

"Miss Charles."

He ignores that and says, "We've been patient but you really need to deal with this."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible right now," Lucas says. "We're in the middle of a meeting. You'll need to schedule one of your own. Good afternoon, gentleman."

I hate being dramatic but I swear I could kiss him right then and there.

Damn it, I could probably drop to my knees and give him a blowjob!