AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My brain starts to short circuit as countless thoughts flitter through my head like a flock of birds taking flight.
I was initially attracted to him when I first saw him, though he came off brash and rude. He helped me get time off after getting burned, then forced me to leave my jobs. He offered me a position with him so I’d still get paid. Hebanneda guy who was following me. He took me to a sex club and made me feel things I’ve never felt before, and then he murdered someone and told me I’d have to have a constant bodyguard in lieu of getting killed myself. Then he offed another guy in the alley who was after me. Now he’s brought me here, given me a nice place to live while vowing to find out who’s after me and making sure I’m safe. He complimented my food. He teases me with words and gazes, and now he’s saying he’s inviting a woman over.
What in the actual fuck?
I find myself in a conundrum. He’s protective, polite, and fills me with a lust I’ve never experienced before, however he’s also a murderer. Is it possible to excuse one of the worst crimes a person can commit because he is also capable of good things?
It’s not like he’s going on random killing sprees. He’s not hurting children. He’s participating in a business that’s been cruel from its inception. Everyone in the mafia knows what they’re doing. The guys he’s killed have probably killed others. Does that make it better?
I realize I’m still trying to give myself excuses, because I do want him. I’ve only had a small taste and my appetite is growing.
When I finally snap out of it, I spot his retreating figure as he heads toward his bedroom. The chair squeaks as it slides across the floor when I stand up.
“Excuse me? You’re going to fuck a woman while you hold me here captive?” He turns around, hands in his pockets with his head tilted. “You’re kidding, right? You spew all this bullshit about wanting to fuck me, and that’s the only reason why I’m around, after, of course, finger fucking me on the desk in your office, making me say things I’d never think to say. And now you’re actually telling me you’ve invited a woman to go downstairs with you in your little sex room while I can just make myself at home up here,” I say, gesturing wildly to the kitchen. “You get one woman to cook dinner for you and one to fuck you? That’s it?”
My hysterical outburst comes to an end when he starts walking toward me.
“I want to fuck you, Mariella, but you’re acting like you’re not interested, and I may be many things, but a rapist, I am not. If you’re not willing, I have plenty of others who are. And you only said the things you wanted to say. I didn’t force words from your lips. You felt what you felt and you said what you said. If anything, I should get a thank you for getting you to be honest and open, both on my desk, and now. And finally, I’m the one who does the fucking, and you chose to cook. I didn’t ask that of you. You know that.”
He turns and walks away, but my growl of frustration makes him pause. He doesn’t turn around, instead waiting to see if I have anything to say, but when I remain quiet, he continues down the hall. Before he disappears into his room, he says one last thing.
“If you want it to be you, be downstairs in thirty minutes. If you’re not there, Nicola will be.”
ChapterSixteen
For twenty minutes, I fume and pace my well-decorated room. I think to call Autumn but also don’t want her to know what I’m contemplating. She’ll do the decent friend thing and tell me to really think about this. She’ll warn me, once again, about who I’d be getting involved with. And while I understand all those things, I don’t necessarily want to be talked out of doing anything with Vicente.
Sometimes it’s okay to keep things a secret, right? Your friends don’t have to know absolutely everything you’re doing. Especially if they’ll judge you. I think Autumn would eventually be on board, and considering she doesn’t know about the murder, she’d likely be more okay with it. She did admit to him being hot.
I decide to send her a text.
If a man was trying to make you jealous by bringing another girl around, would you: A) take her place so he doesn’t have a chance to be with her? Or B) Say fuck that, do what you want but never try anything with me ever again? Kicker. You kinda like him and definitely want to fuck him and don’t want to think about him with anyone else.
As an outsider, I’d say option B. If I put myself in that particular situation, definitely option A. We’re all selfish. We want what we want and don’t want anyone else to have it. Are we talking about who I think we’re talking about? And is he actually trying to fuck someone over there right now?
Yes and yes. He’s trying to make me jealous and it’s working. I’ve been keeping him at arm's length, but I know he wants me, so he’s definitely forcing me to make a decision. It’s smart, not gonna lie, but I hate him for it because I have no doubt that he’d actually fuck her if I don’t decide to step up to the plate, so to speak.
Plate of cock. Yeah. I got you. So, what are you gonna do?
I think I’m gonna do it. Is that dumb? Would you judge me?
I can’t say I wouldn’t if I were you, but you should be careful. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. You probably shouldn’t trust this guy.
Yeah, I know.
Our conversation ends there, and I only have seven minutes to make a decision. In that seven minute time frame, I just so happen to strip out of my clothes and take a three minute fairly cold shower, thanking any deities there may be that I was waxed last week and still pretty smooth.
I use mouthwash, put on some Chapstick, check my hair and makeup, and lotion my entire body.
With two minutes left, I dig into my drawer and find the red panties he noticed in my room earlier today. I pull them up my legs but don’t have time to find the matching bra, so I put on my black silk pajama set. It’s a pair of shorts and a button up blouse, and I’m still trying to get all the buttons together as I rush through the house and down the stairs.
Decision made, I guess.
When I get to the room, the red light is already glowing. I don’t know if I should sit on the bed, the bench, or kneel on the floor. I only know the last one thanks to romance novels.
My heart pounds in my chest as I await what’s to come. My nerves are on fire, sending warmth through every extremity. Am I truly prepared for what might take place down here? I want to have sex, yes, but I have a feeling sex with Vicente is going to be unlike anything I could ever imagine. And that’s both thrilling and nerve-inducing.
With the black and red color scheme, it’s like I’m in Satan's headquarters. The atmosphere is a little sinister. It’s not inviting and cozy like the rest of the house. Down here, you know you’re in for some adventure. The room radiates sex and pain, but the thought of it has my stomach doing flips and my thighs clenching.
