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He returns, as cool, calm, and collected as the man I invited home that first night.
Silence builds to a crescendo until he finally speaks.
“I’ll send a man to replace your lock.”
“Am I just a fuck to you?” I raise my chin, drawing on every ounce of pride remaining.
“And if I say yes?”
“The door is right there.” I tremble with anger. “And don’t trouble yourself by sending anyone. My landlord is replacing the lock.”
He frowns.
With a shaky hand, I gesture toward the door.
Everything seems to pause.
“You’re going to regret this,” he growls, and before I can guess his intent, I’m swept into his arms and carried toward the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWO
Sunlight filters in from between the blinds. I meant to ask Ciro if it was okay for me to exchange the blinds for blackout curtains. Late-night hours and early morning sunshine don’t play nicely together—not that I’d tell my boss that.
I roll toward his warmth.
But the bed’s empty.
He was so uncharacteristically gentle last night after carrying me to bed. Undressing me and laying me on the mattress. Sliding on a condom before crawling over me, then showering me with kisses, on my breasts, neck, mouth.
Then, he made love to me.
I’ve never given myself so completely to another person.
His tenderness and praise—what a good girl I am, how well I take his cock, how I feel like home—made me hope.
Enough to indulge my curiosity.
Is he famous? A model or sports figure? A Wall Street tycoon who invests in casinos yet values his privacy? Is he worried I’ll see him for what he is and not who he is? Is this why he keeps personal discussions to a minimum? To maintain his privacy? Worried I’ll share his kinks with the world?
Like I’d ever betray him in any way.
I roll toward the sunlight creeping in but don’t notice him right away. He’s seated in a chair pulled up next to the bed, hunched forward with elbows on thighs while he studies me.
Still here.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I sit up and secure the bedsheet around me.
He shakes his head.
Whatever was bothering him still plagues him.
“Tell me a secret no one else knows.”
This is what he’s been contemplating all this time? “Like what?”
“Something you’re not proud of. A dirty little secret.”
My heart clenches so tightly, the pieces I’d carefully pieced back together are on the verge of fragmenting.
