Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
On the far side of the terrace, Matias sat with his back to her. As she emerged from the interior living room, he turned immediately, like he had some kind of internal radar tuned in to her location.
His white t-shirt pulled across his muscled shoulders and put his gorgeous ink on display, giving him a rough and dangerous look that made her heart shiver. He was powerful and infuriatingly domineering, but he was also so deeply sentimental she felt like a cold-hearted bitch in comparison.
He gave her a wink that liquefied her insides. Then he turned back to his conversation.
A quick scan of the terrace revealed two paths to reach him. One would take her around the left side of the lounge chairs. It was a few extra steps out of the way, but far more appealing than the other choice.
If she took the direct path alongside the pool, she would pass Yessica and the bevy of giggling women in string bikinis. Since she hadn’t left Matias’ side over the past three weeks, his presence had served as a buffer between her and these women. A conversation with them was overdue.
She looked at the safer path longingly.
Don’t wimp out, Camila. Show them your teeth.
Squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine, she chose the path of most resistance.
The giggling stopped as she approached the lounge chairs, and four pairs of mascara-caked eyes locked on her.
“I heard Matias removed your collar.” Yessica fingered an olive out of her martini—at ten in the morning?—and popped it in her mouth.
So Matias had made an announcement, but it could’ve been anything. The slave is off her leash. The slave was never a slave. The slave is my life, and I’m going to marry her and have lots of babies…
She sighed. How to reply?
Touching a hand to her naked throat, she went with honesty. “I miss it already.”
Matias sat some thirty feet away, his upper body twisted in the chair and hands gripping the armrests as if moving to stand. She gave him a sharp shake of her head, and he relaxed, but didn’t turn away.
A warm wind rustled across the terrace, rippling the water in the pool and producing a backdrop of whooshing noises. She doubted he could hear her from where he sat.
“Don’t get too comfortable.” One of Yessica’s friends, a pretty blonde, adjusted the strap of her red bikini top. “He’s not a one-woman kind of man.”
“Oh really?” Camila kept her tone light and playful as her stomach boiled with acid. “How’s that?”
“Well, we’ve all fucked him.” The blonde gestured at the other three women. “He visits lots of beds. Never sticks around.” She shrugged. “He’s the boss. Too important to be tied down.”
Camila tried to ignore the twitch in her eye and the pang in her chest as her smile strained her face. She focused on the fact that this woman had casually mentioned Matias’ role as the boss in front of his supposed slave. Now she really wanted to know the specifics of his announcement.
“But he seems to prefer Yessica.” Another blonde plucked an olive from her bloody mary and tossed it in Yessica’s modest cleavage.
They all laughed as Camila tried her damnedest to keep her fists from bloodying their noses.
“He makes his rounds, but he always comes back to me.” Yessica stretched in the lounge chair, her tiny swimsuit revealing far more of her Latina curves than it covered. “I’ll just hang out here until he comes in me…I mean, comes to me again.”
“Huh.” Camila gave her a thoughtful look. “When was the last time he came in you?”
“It’s been…Oh, you know.” Her eyes darted away, and she grinned, but it was taut at the corners. “He holds out for a while then he comes to me all pissed off and sexy. Sweet Jesus, that man gives good angry sex.”
Camila’s stomach threatened to hurl. She felt Matias gaze hot on her face, but she refused to look at him. It was crucial that she establish her position here without his dominating interference.
“And good gifts, too.” Yessica’s eyes sparkled. “He always gives me dresses and pearls and makeup—”
“Does he give you the belt?” Camila asked sweetly.
She really didn’t want to hear this answer, but she needed to understand if Yessica had been just an orgasm to him or if she was one of the women he’d shared a more intimate relationship with. The kind that involved pain and acceptance and trust.
“A belt?” Yessica pursed her lips. “You mean, does he beat me?”
“Yes. Did he whip your ass with a belt?”
She snorted then exaggerated a full-body shudder. “No, sweetheart.”
“Interesting.”
“Why is that interesting?” She narrowed her eyes.
Her friends found interest in their fingernails, drinks, and the grout in the tile flooring.
“Any woman can get dresses and pearls and makeup, but only the special ones get his belt.” Camila leaned over Yessica’s chair. “I’ll say this one time, and this goes for all of you.” She waved a hand, indicating the collective whole of prostitutes. “Do not touch him, invade his personal space, or proposition him. Do not do anything that disrespects me. If I get a whiff of it—and trust me, ladies, I’ll know—I’ll have your asses removed from this estate. I have no problem with the services you provide around here, but going forward, Matias is no longer a client. Are we clear?”