Page 18 of Nobody's Girl

Tamara smiled silkily at him. “So, say I wanted to hire you to torment, stalk and kill someone? Another woman?”

“What woman?”

She shrugged, not ready to give away everything right now. The plan was only starting to form in her mind. “Just a woman. Young. Beautiful. How much?”

“It depends. You want her scared shitless before I off her? That’ll cost more. A quick bullet to the head? Twenty-five thousand dollars. A drawn-out campaign, and a painful, intimate stabbing? One hundred-thousand…and I get to screw her before I kill her. Maybe while I kill her.”

Tamara laughed. “You’re a twisted fuck, and that’s why I like you.”

He pulled her to him, kissing her, his hand between her legs. He slid three fingers inside her. His other hand bunch her blonde hair and he pulled her head back roughly before grinding his mouth down on hers. “You wouldn’t want to know how sick I can be, little girl.” He kissed her throat, then flicked his tongue across it in a slashing motion. “One day…I might come for you. Watch you bleed like the bitch you are.”

Tamara’s pulse quickened but she wasn’t scared. “Tell me that often, Grant, and I’ll make you come harder than you ever have before.”

He pinched her clit hard between his thumb and forefinger, making her squeak and come again, and Grant smiled triumphantly. “Same time, next week?”

“Of course.” She kissed him lightly. “Bring your weapons with you, we’ll have some fun.”

Grant smirked. “They checked them at the door.”

“I’ll get you in.”

“Sure.”

After Grant had left, Tamara still felt wildly horny. She clipped two nipple clamps to her breasts, enjoying the pain of them, and walked out into the bar, otherwise still completely naked and still with Grant’s cum on her thighs. She felt no embarrassment about her body – she knew it was spectacular, if a little on the thin side. She went to the bar and ordered a drink, and had downed it in one gulp when she saw him watching her. The first lover she’d found here. The dark man. Her heart began to pound as he stood. He too was completely naked, his cock erect, a chunky heavy silver ring around the base of it. She noticed the thick tattoos up and down his thickly muscled arms. He easily shook off his female hangers-on, who all glared at Tamara, who couldn’t have cared less. He strode up to her and shoved his hand between her legs.

“Go get in the shower,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “I don’t fuck while another man is still inside. Clean yourself up and meet me in Room Four.”

He grabbed the refilled shot glass and downed it. “Give me the bottle.”

“Yes, Mr. Black.” The bartender handed over a bottle of scotch and Black nodded. He glanced at Tamara a last time before stalking off. She watched his retreating figure. His shoulders were broad, his back muscles stood out – here was a man who worked out – hard. His ass was solid and shapely, his legs strong. Yeah, he would fuck her good.

Tamara did what she was told, standing under one of the hot showers that were laid out against the far wall. As she washed herself, she looked around at all the other couple fucking each other, or sucking each other, and smiled. If she could only live here…an idea began to form in her head…. but for now, all she wanted to concentrate on was the man waiting for her.

He grabbed her as soon as she came into the room and thrust her against the wall. Tamara’s breath quickened as he put his forearm across her throat, and pushed her legs apart. “Good.” His hand checked she was clean, then his cock, huge and pulsating thrust into her.

As he fucked her, he said not a word, but instead kept his gaze locked on her. Tamara felt herself drawn to those dark eyes, losing herself in him. She came quickly, and he ordered her onto the bed, taking her in the ass from behind, making her crouch on her hands and knees. He treated her like a mere hole, in the same way she treated Grant as just a cock to ride…and Tamara loved every second. As he fucked her long into the night, not letting her make any of the decisions, punishing her with the paddles and whips in the room if she dared to argue with him, she knew she was lost.

This was a man of power. This was a man who could break her. Grant – he would prove useful, and her father…he could go back to ignoring her. This man…

She would make him hers…

Chapter Seven

Sofia stood back from her work and eyed it critically. The usual self-doubt was virulent today and she almost splashed black paint across the whole thing and told Desiree she quit. But she couldn’t do it. She had decided on translating the small invite sketch into a huge canvas of the completed gallery to and in the middle of her space, flanked by portraits of both Desiree and Ivo.

It was Ivo’s painting she was completing now, and the one she had worked longest on. It had to be perfect or it wouldn’t be worthy of him. Ivo. Her lover. When she thought of him, wrapped around her at night, either making love or just talking, it made her whole body warm. She looked up at the outline she had done. His eyes were the most important for her, the expression of tenderness in them, and yet she also wanted to bring out that side of him she had yet to see. The dangerous side of him. She had seen flashes of it when they were making love, the intensity of his feelings for her…there was something deep inside Ivo Zacca that he would not let out and Sofia was obsessed with finding out what it was. When he thought she was asleep, he would slip from the bed and stare out of the window for hours, then watch her, stroking her skin tenderly before wrapping his arms around her. What was it? It was as if he was so scared to lose her that it kept him awake.

She asked Desiree about it. Desiree had sighed. “Honey, if I knew, I would tell you. He’s always been, not insecure as such, but…” She struggled to find the right word. “He has the biggest heart in the world, and is intensely loyal and sometimes that loyalty had caused him tremendous heartbreak. That’s all I can say without breaking a confidence. Just know – he adores you.”

“And I’m crazy about him, Desi. I’ll never give Ivo a reason to doubt it.”