“Jesus.”
I knew he’d make good on his promise to check. I was nothing but a puppet, a plaything and nothing more. At least I knew he would also honor the deal. Fine. Wonderful. Groovy. I was sick to my stomach as I eased the plug into my hand, securing the single tube of lubricant with the other. This was going to be the most humiliating thing of all.
But I would get through it. I could handle anything.
Including a murderer.
I couldn’t stomach having the light on as I walked into the bathroom and even struggled to lower the sweatpants. My hand was shaking as I attempted to lube the end of the plug, my imagination going wild with vivid images of hardcore BDSM and dungeons, cages and whips. I wasn’t that kind of girl.
When the thick rubber was slickened, I took a deep breath, reaching around with one hand to pull open my ass cheek. A wave of heat and embarrassment rushed into my system, allowing two tiny beads of perspiration to trickle down the sides of my face.
You can do this. You can do… this.
I bit back a moan as I eased the tip to my puckered hole, grimacing when I pushed and my muscles accepted the nasty invasion. I felt like some bad little girl being punished for every wretched deed she’d ever done in her life. I was sick to my stomach, forcing back tears as I pushed again, finally sliding past the wall of muscle. A flash of pain roared into my system the second I thrust the entire remainder inside.
I blinked several times as I gasped for air, gripping the edge of the counter with both hands. “Holy fuck. Oh, God. Oh…” The damn thing was so uncomfortable, filling me more than I would have imagined a plug could do. When I stood to my full height, the moan I’d held finally escaped my mouth. Then something odd happened.
The pain subsided, a series of dazzling sensations rocketing through me. I was shocked beyond belief and undulated my hips before taking a few steps. Fuck. The thought of sitting drove me to an entirely new level of trepidation. He’d ceremoniously been able to strip away my control with this single requirement.
I wanted to hate him even more, but the plug made me feel like a dirty girl, one in need of a hard spanking.
And fucking.
Now I turned on the light, glaring at my reflection. What was I turning into? I yanked my sweatpants in position, slumping closer toward the mirror. I had to keep my resolve strong. I had to hate the man.
I struggled to keep my composure as I walked downstairs, half expecting to run into Lorenzo or one of his goons. There was nothing but dead quiet in the house. As I took cautious steps into the kitchen, a cold chill trickled down my spine. The room was the epitome of the man himself; cold and indifferent and so unlike the man who’d worn festive island shirts and who I’d been able to talk into drinking a frozen pi? a colada, for God’s sake. Had he been playing a game with me?
Sighing, I managed to find wineglasses and an already open bottle of wine, hoping the smooth cabernet would calm my nerves. After pouring a hefty amount, I stood staring out the window at the lovely backyard, manicured in every way, flowers and trees blooming and oh-so beautiful. Yet all I could think about was just how cold his house really was. If I was forced to live here then I was determined to spruce it up, give the house life.
I laughed softly, fighting back tears for a second time. Crying was so unlike me.
I’d given up so much to seek out Lorenzo’s help. What was he going to do, kill the man who’d threatened me? I knew the answer in my heart.
Yes.
With joy.
A part of would be thrilled at his efforts, joyful when the dirty deed was complete. I’d never been this way, had never wanted anyone to face justice as much as the pig from the alley.
I took a sip of wine and had difficulty swallowing the warm liquid. Even the taste seemed bitter to me, off-putting in several ways. I held the glass toward the waning sunlight, realizing for the first time how much the color reminded me of blood. Suddenly, I was sick to my stomach.
I was in Lorenzo’s world. Even the man who’d come into his home seemed dangerous. Maybe I was a na? ve little girl, refusing to accept that the man I’d spent an entire week with could be a coldblooded killer like the press accused him of being.
I had to consider the possibility that my determination to find out everything Lucas knew had me hoping I’d somehow run into Lorenzo. At this point, I couldn’t put anything past my subconscious.
I leaned my forehead against the window, wrestling with my emotions.
Seconds later, I felt Lorenzo’s presence behind me and while I wanted nothing more than to bristle, my body betrayed me, a sizzle settling into my system. For some insane reason, I was self-conscious about the way I looked, the sweatpants several sizes too large and drab, the tee shirt something I could wear as a dress, but only if there was nothing else. Although he’d made good on having someone wash my clothes, I couldn’t bear to put them on. They would always be stained with blood. I wanted nothing more than to go home, to be able to soak in my own tub and slide into my pajamas.
I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Maybe ever again.
I could tell he was staring at me.
“I want you to use my credit card tonight and order anything you want.” His voice was just as smooth as I’d remembered from before, the angst and anger in his tone gone. A girl could fall asleep to the sound of his voice, fantasizing about passionate nights spent kissing and making love.
I gritted my teeth, biting back a retort, able to tell he was sliding a credit card across the counter. “That’s very nice of you but I have my own clothes at my house.”
“You can’t go back there,” he said, so damn matter of fact.
“That’s not fair. My entire life is there. My laptop, my things, my art, my camera. Everything that I value.”
He gave another one of his huge sighs, as if I was a stupid girl for even suggesting such a thing. “Axel is many things but not a fool. He will find you. He has people searching for you right now.”
I certainly didn’t want to tell him that the man already knew who I was.
“How do you know that?” I asked, shivering at his words.
“Because I have dozens of soldiers on the streets, my own informants who keep me abreast of everything going down in the various neighborhoods. People talk. Only a matter of time.”
“Another way to keep me prisoner.”
Lorenzo remained quiet, but I could feel his edgy vibe, a man constantly required to be prepared for a rival gang to attempt assassination or a member of law enforcement to turn his world upside down. My father had attempted to do that on more than one occasion and he would again.
“I really can’t go home. My life as I know it is gone,” I whispered. I wasn’t asking, merely stating the fact. I was gutted, another hard realization bringing tears to my eyes.
“Yes. I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Sierra. What you did was stupid and reckless.”