Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
The way he spoke his lines, the dirty things he whispered in my ears . . . Yeah, I’m starting to doubt it was all just an act.
I was under the impression Luca was just putting on a persona and I was going to embarrass myself by showing any more of my kinky side.
But at this point, I’m not so sure anymore. In any case, I’m willing to take the risk in case my guess is incorrect.
Fantasies aren’t enough to occupy my mind anymore. I need something stronger to dull the pain. I need to put a wall between myself and the tsunami of grief threatening to swallow me whole, and I suspect Luca would make an excellent wall.
So on the sixth morning, I pick a new game.
“Luca, why did you have to take me to a hotel first?” I ask, starting with an innocent question.
“I didn’t want to cause a scene if the neighbors saw me. They already hate me enough,” he says.
Two whole sentences, and I didn’t even have to try too hard. I may be growing on him.
“What kind of a scene?” I ask.
I tear a small, bite-sized piece from my croissant. We both have the day off, and we can afford to take our time this morning.
“I don’t know.” Luca shrugs, then he takes a sip of his black coffee. “Maybe you were going to catch someone’s attention somehow. I don’t want to give you ideas.”
I laugh. “Were you really about to bring me back here, kicking and screaming?”
“Well, no. Because I would’ve gagged you and tied you up.” The moment the words leave his mouth, Luca reddens.
Have you ever seen a big, tattooed, scary-looking man blush? It’s scary and adorable at the same time. Scadorable.
When he meets my gaze, I see a glint of desire behind his sheepishness.
That’s all the confirmation I need.
Luca wasn’t pretending to be PuppetMaster. He was PuppetMaster, whether he knew it or not. He was the real deal.
“I would’ve let you tie me up and gag me,” I say across the small, wooden dining table. Slowly, I add, “In fact, you can do it right now if you want to.”
Luca tightens his jaw. Is he . . . angry? Whatever. At least I’m getting a reaction. Maybe I’m waving a red flag in front of a bull, but at least something interesting is happening.
“Relax. I’m just messing with you.” I giggle to melt the tension. “I think it’s adorable that you care what your neighbors think.”
“I don’t. But I also don’t want anybody calling the cops on me.” It seems Luca’s had enough because he gets up and leaves me alone.
But for the rest of the day, whenever he comes out of his studio, I ask him questions like, “What were you going to do if I refused to move in with you? Were you going to hold me down and tie me up? Were you going to overpower me and make me do whatever you want?”
These questions bother him, but not in the way a friend would be bothered by them. (You know, like, “Ew, TMI!” kind of bothered.)
No, Luca’s getting hot-and-bothered kind of bothered. I can tell by the way his muscles tense and the faraway look in his emerald eyes, like he’s trying hard to imagine himself somewhere else so he doesn’t give in to the temptation I’m putting on a silver platter for him. Whenever I manage to catch his gaze, I see a flame burning with both anger and lust inside those green depths.
That night, I lie in bed, devising my plan while my fingers slip inside my panties. Tomorrow’s another day off for both of us. Seeing as I’ve managed to disturb Luca’s calm surface today, I should act now before he recovers and goes back to being a grump.
In the same way, I know what he needs, too. We’re two sides of the same coin, after all.
Luca
I spend all night tossing and turning in my bed. It's too hot when I stay under the blanket, and it's too chilly when I pull it off me.
But to be honest, the real problem is that my dick is begging for attention. I’ve had to jerk myself off just to be able to sleep since Sarah moved in.
After a fitful night, in the morning I decide to spend the day outside.
I can't be trusted around Sarah. She's too perfect. Just the right amount of strength, and just the right amount of softness. Her usual strong-headedness makes her submission so much more enticing.
To have a woman like Sarah kneeling at my feet, willing to do anything I ask of her . . .
Yeah. I shouldn't stay in the house today.
But as soon as I unlock my bedroom door and pull it open, I realize I won't be able to leave.