Plausibility (4 page)

Aquilla moved her eyes from his with a disgusted look. She was sick of him constantly looking at her like that. It confused the hell out of her. One minute he was jumping down her throat and the next
; he was staring at her with eyes full of emotion. Stupid fucker.

Julius sat beside
of her when Talin walked away.

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun,” he assumed.

She smiled at him but didn’t reply.

“You look very pretty tonight,” he said, moving her blonde hair behind the front of her shoulder to her back.

Aquilla knew she shouldn’t get goose bumps when he touched her, but she did. She couldn’t help it. It had been something she had been fighting for months now. NO, not months, more like years. She took a deep breath, trying to rid the forbidden thoughts.

“Thanks,” she replied.
Talin, Vennah, and her had all ordered new sundresses for the party. They all matched, except for the colors. Hers was a pale pink with a red strawberry embroidered just above her right hip bone. Her father scowled when he saw it. He tried hard to control her clothing, not wanting her to dress like the women that came and went from the mansion.

“You need another drink?” he asked.

“No, Talin has enough alcohol in this one for five drinks,” she admitted.

Vennah pulled her away from him when they were going to play a drinking game. Julius’s eyes never left
her, he watched her getting drunk and playing games with her friends. Romano had left the party fairly early, leaving Valdez and Julius to chaperone. Julius knew she needed to quit drinking, however, he didn’t say anything. She would have just told him to fuck off anyways.

By eleven o’clock
, she was shit faced and could barely stand up.

“Clear the party out,” Julius told Valdez
, going to Aquilla, getting sick in the yard.

Valdez broke up the party and sent the youngsters on their way with the two bodyguards who escorted them safely home.

Julius went to Aquilla and tried to hold her hair back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she shouted, shoving him in the chest.

“Quill, don’t be like that,” he tried.

She couldn’t say anything. She turned her head and heaved again. Julius didn’t think she was ever going to stop. He was starting to get worried.

“You okay?” he asked when she finally rose up, resting her hands on her knees.

“Like you give a shit,” she angrily replied.

Julius knew it was the alcohol. He was trying to let it slide. He didn’t want to fight with her, it was a special day for her. He didn’t want to be the one to rain on her party.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Keep your fucking hands off of me,” she yelled, shoving him in the chest again.

Julius put his hands up, letting her kn
ow that he wasn’t touching her. He was trying to help her.

“I’ve got to lie down,” she suddenly realized when the ground beneath her feet started to spin in circles
, FAST.

She
laid across a chase lounge and was out cold. Julius left her alone for a few minutes. He wasn’t going to leave her out there; she was just going to have to be mad. He picked up her arm and let go. Her arm dropped like a dead weight. She was definitely passed out.

Juliu
s scooped her into his arms, and she dropped her head to his chest. She was drunk, and barely responsive, but she knew what was going on. She knew she was being carried by Julius. She even knew when he kissed her forehead as he carried her.

He carefully laid her down
, and again, her body dropped like a dead weight. She felt him remove her sandals and caress her foot with his hand. He didn’t need to do that; he couldn’t help anything he was doing. His mind was going crazy wanting to do things to her. He needed to get the fuck out of her room. He shouldn’t leave her in her sundress though, should he?

Julius lifted the sundress and took a quick peek at the pink panties covering her pussy. He looked up to her face. She didn’t move
. Aquilla wasn’t passed out. The room was spinning and she was no doubt drunk, but she knew everything that he was doing. She felt the breeze when he lifted her dress, the flutter deep in the pit of her stomach, and the instant pulsating between her legs, she felt it all.

“Fuck, Quill,” she heard him whisper.

He lifted the sundress higher, great, no bra. He needed to see that too. He needed to go. He needed to get the fuck out of there before he did something stupid. He would just help her out of her dress and under her covers and then he would go.

Aquilla pretended to moan as he lifted it over her head. She plopped back to the mattress, purposely lifting her leg and letting her knee drop to the side. She wasn’t thinking like Julius. She wasn’t arguing with herself at all. She was drunk and horny as hell. She was hoping he did
do something. She wanted him to do something.

Julius stood frozen. Fuck.
Mother Fucker. Son of a fucking whore. He touched her inner thigh, looking at her face for a reaction. Nothing, she was out cold. He moved her other leg up, spreading her more and then looked back to her face. Still nothing. He carefully lifted the inside of her panties, pulling it to the side.

Jesus Christ!!!!! Should he touch her? She would probably kick him in the nuts if she woke up. Fuck
, he wanted to touch her. She wanted him to touch her.

Aquilla squirmed, deliberately tryi
ng to get his fingers to slip, they did. He felt her wetness right before he freaked the fuck out. He let go of her panties and got the hell out. She was not happy. She shouldn’t have moved. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She wanted to move her hand down and take care of the throbbing
, but she couldn’t. She was too drunk and was afraid to move. She couldn’t even move to get under the covers.

<><><>

Julius went right back to ignoring her the next morning. He had to. He couldn’t get the image of her pink little pussy out of his mind.

Aquilla spent her day in her ro
om on her new purple laptop she had gotten for her birthday. She couldn’t do much on it. It was just like the last one that she had. Her father had parental controls on it. The only thing she could do was play games or download books. She was 18 and had a parental block from the internet. How pathetic was that?

Aquilla fell into a slump
; she came out of her room when Hila dragged her to the table, and then went right back to her room, where she played solitaire for hours and slept. She wasn’t tired, just bored. She needed out of that house.

Tali
n finally called her one evening. Julius, unbeknownst to Aquilla, listened through his secret window.

“We’re going to the pits tomorrow. My fa
ther already gave me permission, you’re coming right? Vennah will be there too,” Talin explained the plans.

“I will have to ask my father at breakfast. What time are you going?” It really depended on whether or not he needed Valdez. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go alone. What a pathetic life to live at 1
8. She may as well have stayed three. She wasn’t treated any differently.

“We’re not going until around six. Keiki, Tua, and Salem are going to be there. Salem’s go
ing to cook lobster over a fire, Vennah’s caretaker is going to make us up a basket of bread and fruit, Tua’s going to bring the alcohol, and I’m bringing the punch. You can bring something if you want.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Come on, I need you to be there, Tua needs you to be there.”

“Why? It’s not like we can be alone
, anyways,” she stated.

“Stop being so depressing
, get over it, let’s go. We’ll get drunk, and who knows, it might be the night Tua kisses you.”

Aquilla rolled her eyes. Like that would happen. “I’ll text you and let you know tomorrow.”

<>

Hila was
waking Aquilla before eight the next morning. She wasn’t ready to get up. What did she have to get up for?

“Come
, Miss. You father wait,” she spoke in her broken English.

“Tell him I’m sick,” she moaned rolling over.

Hila ignored her, started her bath and laid her attire for the day on her bed.

“You get up now,” she coaxed, pulling the covers from her body.

Aquilla sat up, rubbing her eyes. She knew she had to get up. Breakfast was the one meal that her father insisted they ate as a family. He and Julius were usually busy working for lunch and, if his schedule allowed it, he would insist that supper be shared together as well.

Aquilla bathed and then groaned as she put on the customary dark blue dress slacks and white button up shirt. She wanted to wear shorts and a concert t-shirt or something. She didn’t want to dress like a nun. She changed as soon as breakfast was over anyway
s. She didn’t understand why her family had to arrive at the breakfast table in full blown funeral clothes.

“You button,” Hila demanded, wanting her to button the top two buttons that were allowing cleavage to be visible. She knew Mr. Chavez’s rules, and it was her job to see that Aquilla followed them. She had been with Aquilla sin
ce their arrival on Jamelia Lei four years ago. She wanted to keep her job, and did her best to keep Aquilla in line. She was never close with Aquilla, and Aquilla wasn’t close with her. Aquilla found her to be more annoying than anything. It would have been nice to have a female to bond with, unfortunately, Hila wasn’t her.

Aquilla placed her hands on her hips with a puff of air as Hila buttoned the two buttons. She slid into her heels and walked out, unbuttoning the two buttons as she descended the stairs.

Her father was seated at the head of the long table, wearing a black suit and tie. Julius sat across from her wearing his own formal attire. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous sight. Julius smiled, amused at her. He knew exactly what the eye roll was all about. He knew her better than anyone knew her.

“Good morning, Quill
, button your shirt.” her father spoke as they both respectively stood from their seated positions. Romano pulled out her chair and kissed her cheek.

Their coffee was served
, and Romano led the conversation while they waited for their meals to be placed in front of them.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied.

“May I go to the pits with my friends today?” she asked, forcing her eyes away from Julius.

“No, you have an art lesson today,” Romano replied.

“Why do I have to do that? I hate it
, I suck at it,” she stated with a tone.

“Suck?” her father asked with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized right away. He had already warned her about picking up Talin’s vocabulary. She would have to be more careful. She didn’t want him to stop her from hanging out with her. “I just don’t understand why I have to paint, I don’t like it. Why can’t I just keep taking the flute lessons? I like that.”

“You already play beautiful music. I want you to be creative,” he explained.

“I can’t paint,” she tried to argue one more time.

“Your lesson is in an hour. Don’t be late,” he warned, dismissing the subject.

“Talin and Vennah aren’t going to the beach until this evening may I go then?” she asked, giving up on the stupid art class. She wasn’t sure how much more of her captivity she could handle; she was 18, for God’s sake.

“I will let you know at lunch.”

Aquilla moved her arms for her spinach quiche, and a refill on her coffee. Another servant followed and ground fresh goat cheese on top. She raised her hand, stopping him before he grounded the red pepper.

Aquilla picked at her breakfast and listened to the conversation that her father and Julius assumed she was oblivious to. They really did treat her like she was a child. She knew what went on there. She was no dummy
, just because she was never involved or knew the details didn’t mean she was an idiot. When her father spoke of a shipment coming in, she knew that he was speaking of drugs. She had watched four new girls come in a couple of nights before, so she knew it wasn’t a shipment of chattels.

“May I be excused,” she asked, eating only half of her breakfast.

“Yes,” he excused her.

Julius’s eyes followed her out.

She went right to her room and removed the costume, replacing it with comfortable stretch shorts and a t-shirt. She had just gone on a cruise ship and fell in love with a hot maître d when Hila came in, interrupting her romance novel.

“You do art lesson,” she demanded, laying the prescribed clothes out once again.

“I’m not changing,” she assured her, got up, and walked out. She wasn’t wearing the ridiculous clothes to learn how to paint something that she didn’t want to paint.

Her father could have at least hired a good looking teacher. Armani was old with a balding top and
a thick Italian accent.