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I find myself happily contemplating all of the above with Mads. I didn’t realize I had a dream girl, but Madison Graham is it.
And I knew that she was bright and talented, but seeing her at work today in the O.R….I wasn’t exaggerating when I said she was a rockstar, which would make me the horny groupie waiting to get backstage to fuck her clean into next week.
My cell pings with a text. I’m hoping it’s Mads, telling me she’s thinking about me or just wanting to tell me about some new procedure she just assisted on. But it’s from…Natasha.
How the fuck did she get this number? Only five people have it, and she isn’t one of them.
Sergei. That fat bastard!
Hi Sebastian – it’s Natasha. I will be arriving in ten days. We should talk, make plans. Kissy face emoji.
Suddenly I feel as if a thousand-pound anchor is around my neck, weighing me down, taking me under. How do I keep her away from Madison? I have to buy myself more time to craft a bulletproof plan to free myself of this engagement without turning the streets red with blood.
Shit!
Not to mention Sergei’s constant reminders that the clock is ticking to bring Madison in. He’s cracking mad if he thinks she’ll ever be part of the club pool. The thought of anyone, much less Sergei, touching Mads makes me want to turn the streets red.
My gut tells me that the best thing to do would be to come clean with Madison concerning the betrothal and to let her know that I’m working on a plan to release myself from it. She needn’t be threatened by her. Mads has exclusive rights to my heart, and more importantly, to my cock. No one, especially not Natasha, is going to take that from Mads. Hell, if Mads wants, I’ll even wear a cock ring to which only she’ll have the key. No unsanctioned erections for me unless my lady grants it.
I know she’ll be angry, scream, and maybe cry, but she’ll know I belong to her and that this betrothal means nothing. She’ll just need to be patient with me as I look for a means to extract myself.
I tap in a reply to Natasha’s message.
This line is for club business only. Use 980-546-2289 going forward.
Get the fuck over yourself!
And here we go.
What’s that? Didn’t hear you with Sergei’s dick in your mouth.
I block her number before she could reply. Hopefully, she gets the message that this won’t be all sunshine and roses. Everyone knows she’s coming here to see Sergei, not me. I don’t believe for one second that the affair is over. Hell, the two belong together, who am I to come between true love?
My problem is - how and when do I tell Madison?
Chapter 11 – Meet Me at the Art Museum
It’sbeeneightdayssince I risked my career by treating Sebastian’s brother for a gun wound without reporting it to the authorities. To his point, no one there would ever speak of what happened there in the make-shift O.R. They all had their reasons to keep quiet about it.
In all truthfulness, I have very little cause for concern as no complications arose and Nick is well on his way to a full recovery. Thankfully, all talk of dropping out of college has abated and it’s nice to have this time to get to know some of Sebastian’s family.
Bash informed Nick that I was the one who treated him. Since then, his eyes seem to follow me around like a little lost puppy dog. It’s sweet really. Once when I was changing his bandages, he asked me how serious me and Bash are. Surprised by the question, I was a moment forming my reply.
“Well,” I smiled big, “we’re living together if that tells you anything.”
He told me that this was the first time he’d seen his brother this serious about anyone, but he understood why.
He asked if Bash’s chosen profession troubled me.
“He’s a hedge fund manager and runs several import/export businesses. I don’t ask for details. Don’t really want to.”
He nodded pensively and said nothing more.
No, Nick, I’m not that naïve, I wanted to say. I know that not everything Sebastian deals with is above board. But then again, neither are the dealings of most Fortune 500 CEOs. At least that’s my opinion anyway. I don’t believe that one single person who’s accumulated extreme wealth has achieved it by strictly legal and ethical means. Maybe I’m cynical, but I can’t ignore the article that I read where it was reported that a good percentage of CEOs are sociopaths.
And maybe…that’s part of Sebastian’s appeal. That and the ever-so-slight Russian accent that he tries so hard to suppress. I really love it when the sex is so good he speaks in his mother tongue. When I finally figured out some of what he was saying, I nearly fell out of my chair. That kind of talk would make a sailor blush.
But as good as the sex is, it’s the way Bash makes me feel about myself that’s his selling point. I mean, don’t get me wrong. My self-esteem is fairly strong for good reason. But Bash makes me feel like a goddess and he’s merely a humble servant here to worship me…and fuck the hell out of me.
