Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Cilla is thoughtful for a long time. I don’t anticipate her next question. I think it’s going to be something else. Some words of pity. But she surprises me. She always seems to surprise me. “What does it feel like?” She’s watching me so intently, I don’t think she’s blinking.
“What does what feel like?”
The look in her eyes, it’s strange. Dark. Too dark for her.
The waitress comes to replace our empty bottle. I pour for us both and Cilla waits to speak until I’m sitting back again.
“Stabbing a man.”
Our eyes are locked and I don’t understand what I’m seeing. She’s trembling a little, and her face is ashen, but there’s something in her eyes, something desperate, something wild and vengeful. Something old and sad.
“Let’s go,” I say, standing up. I pick up the bottle and wait for her to stand.
It takes her a minute to move, to blink again. I pull her chair back and she rises. I take her arm and she doesn’t resist when I lead her toward the elevator. When the man stationed there sees us coming, he pushes the button and the doors slide open when we reach it.
Suddenly, I feel like I need to hide her away. Like I shouldn’t have had her out here, where everyone would see her. They’ll want to know who she is. They’ll look into who she is and I don’t want them to. I don’t want anyone to. I want to keep her hidden. Keep her to myself.
I don’t let her go until we’re in my office. The elevator doors close behind us and she walks toward my desk, drawn to the monitors there. There are six of them and currently, five are set on the club and one on the house. Helen is moving around the living room. Cilla watches her, cocks her head to the side as she does.
From the wet bar, I retrieve a wine glass and pour her one from the bottle I brought up. For myself, I pour a whiskey. She turns to look at me when I approach, takes the glass from my hand.
“You watch the house?”
I sip my drink and nod. I haven’t thought about what it felt like to drive the knife into my uncle’s belly for a long time, but I remember it. I remember breaking skin, cutting through fat. Muscle would give more resistance, but my uncle’s gut, well, it easily yielded the pound of flesh I required.
I look Cilla over, look at how her nipples press against her dress. Watch how her hand trembles when she brings the glass to her lips, barely taking a sip as she watches me. I set my drink down and take my jacket off. She puts her glass next to mine. I turn her so she’s facing the cameras, lean her forward, place her hands flat on the desk.
I draw her hips backward, raise the dress up along her thighs, over her hips, up her back. She’s wearing panties. A lacy black pair. I draw them down to mid-thigh, look at her perfect ass. At her bent over like this. She’s almost more naked for the underwear.
Raising my hand, I bring it down on her hip.
She gasps, spins around, hands on her ass. “What did you do that for?”
“I told you no panties.”
She studies my eyes, doesn’t battle me with words.
“Turn around, get your elbows down on the desk and be grateful I’m only punishing you for the panties.”
She hesitates, but a moment later, does as she’s told. I arrange the dress high on her back. The panties have slid to the floor and pool around her ankles. I raise my hand and slap her ass again. She grunts, but holds still while I continue spanking her. Ten times on each cheek. I know it stings from the way she wriggles around, and I have to lay a hand on her low back to keep her in position, but this is nothing to what I can do. Nothing to how I can punish her.
When I finish, I cup both reddened cheeks. They’re warm. I rub the sting from them.
Cilla cranes her neck to look at me.
“Next time, I’ll use my belt.”
I can’t read what’s in her eyes but she swallows hard enough for me to hear. I lean over her and push a few buttons so the camera switches to the one in her room. When she turns to the screen, she recognizes the setting. I push another button to take us back to two nights ago.
“You watched me.”
When I don’t reply, she shifts her gaze to me.
“You watched me, you sick bastard.”
“I like watching.”
Slowly, I move to my knees behind her. The look in her eyes changes and she licks her lips.
I’m holding her thighs, I kiss her hip, draw my hands up to splay her open.