Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
I smiled. “Your turn?”
He shook his head no, not removing his hand away from his mouth, looking fucking sexy and smug.
“But you didn’t… I mean…”
Why was I being so shy? What the hell is wrong with me? I couldn’t even say the words.
“That was for me,” he stated.
“I could—”
“I don’t want you to.” He nodded toward a door in his office. “Why don’t you go use the bathroom and clean yourself up. I’ll drive you to Madam’s condo.”
I bit my cheek and hesitantly nodded.
It took me a few minutes to compose myself and get myself together; I looked like a fucking disaster. It was the first time I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I didn’t know if it was the drug or if it was me… I looked in the mirror and placed my hair all around my face. It made me feel better.
Hiding.
I walked out as Devon was changing his shirt and his back was to me. I nearly gasped at the sight of him; he had scars on his back. Deep scars. He turned when his shirt was safely placed on him. I tried to hide my shock and lowered my head, walking to the door. I opened it, and it was forcefully shut closed behind me.
My heart was beating profoundly; I could feel it in my throat and at my temples. I didn’t turn, I couldn’t…
I felt him lift my hair up off my neck, and then brush it away from my face. He tied it at the top of my head with what appeared to feel like a rubber band, and I think I stopped breathing. He softly kissed the back of my neck, moving his way up to my face.
“I had a bad childhood,” he whispered into my ear, kissing me one last time and opened the door from behind me.
It took me a few seconds to find my footing. I watched him lock up his bar in silence and he grabbed my hand to have me follow him to his car. It was parked in the back of the building. He opened my door and I stepped in.
We drove in silence for a while, until he was about to turn down the road that led to Madam’s condo.
“Go straight,” I said, breaking the stillness.
He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and then grinned, looking straight ahead again. Once we arrived at my building, he pulled out in front and put the car in park.
“I have a guest spot in the parking-garage,” I simply stated.
He put his car back into drive and I led him to the reserved spot. I exited the car first and he followed suit, grabbing my hand before I could take another step. We rode the elevator to the top floor and I pulled out my key from my clutch. I took a deep breath and unlocked my door.
No one had ever been to my condo. It was our sanctuary and Madam was insistent that it was ours and only ours. I knew I was breaking several rules by allowing him to step over the threshold, but even if he didn’t want to I would have made him.
I closed the door behind him and watched as he took in my surroundings. It was upscale and refined, but I had family pictures on the wall, along with pictures of the VIPs and me. He grabbed the picture of Ysabelle and me holding each other up from a night in Vegas.
“This place feels like you,” he said, breaking the tension I was feeling.
“Come on.” I grabbed his hand and led him to my bedroom. He took another few seconds to look around it as well. I was a neat freak so everything was immaculate and in place. I walked toward the bathroom and he followed me. I saw the look on his face when he realized I wasn’t lying about my bathroom being bigger than our entire hotel room in New Orleans. He watched as I walked into the shower and turned it on, making sure to turn on the side jets.
I undressed and stepped in; it took a few more minutes till I felt him behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I laid my head on his shoulder. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, just enjoying the heat and water running all around us.
He washed my hair and I did his.
He washed my body and I did his.
Taking in all the scars that I found along his back and chest. I kissed every last one, trying desperately not to cry for him. I didn’t have to ask to know what might have happened in his home.
It was the most intimate experience I had ever shared with anyone. There was no sex, fondling, or even kissing. There didn’t have to be. Our actions, feelings, and emotions spoke for themselves.