by Kenya Wright
“Show me now. They won’t touch you.”
He snorted.
“Do it.”
He put both hands on the bat’s end, gripped them hard, and raised it in the air. “Come on. Show me how much you hate asking twice.”
Getting into a fighting stance, I fisted my hands and raised them. Rafael hated the way I swayed. It was subtle but annoyed him to no end. When Rafael fought, he remained stiff, elbows in and ready. I prepared for the dance. The rhythm of it all. A good sway always brought that in order.
The Russian swung his bat.
I ducked, feeling a swift wind brush through my hair. “You’ve played the game?”
“I did.” He swung again and missed.
But it was damn close. Wind whipped past my face. I didn’t have to check Giorgio to know he was frowning.
“Who do you work for?” I asked.
He tried a different method and charged for me.
I punched him in the side of his head. My fist connected to his skull, so solid, the impact drummed through my fingers. A tough blow. Delivered with skill. Too much damn skill.
Fuck.
The bat fell from the Russian’s hands. He went down, dropping to his knees and falling face first into a puddle.
Giorgio walked over to me and tried to hand me a small napkin.
I waved it away. “You think he’ll get up?”
“Not tonight.” Giorgio folded the napkin and tucked it in his pocket. “You should’ve hit him in the back or front of the head. The brain can take it better.”
“Thanks for the anatomy lesson.” I rolled my shirt down. “Take off his clothes. The Russians like to scribble all over each other. If he’s Bratva, he’ll have some ink that should tell us something. Get some pictures of the tattoos.”
Two of my men walked up to the guy, lowered, and turned him around. It took them several minutes to take off the big guy’s jacket and shirt.
Giorgio snapped several images of the man’s chest. “What do you want me to do with him?”
“Drop him off at the hospital.”
“Why not kill him?”
“It’s Eden’s aunt that we’re fighting. We’ll play as nice as possible. One dead guy is enough.” I headed back to the Candy Shop, ready to get to my room and order in.
The damn woman won’t give me one break.
We wasted no time returning. Celina didn’t appear shocked to see me as she nodded, when I walked by.
I grumbled at her but held my peace. Apparently, the fourth level provided two and three bedroom suites. We’d taken the whole floor. I hoped it annoyed Celina.
Well, you had your laugh with the bat boys.
When I made it to my room, Louis sat at the desk, typing on my laptop.
I took my jacket off and slung it over the chair. “What are you doing?”
“Since we’re inside the Candy Shop, Pepe found a way to hack into Celina’s computer.”
“And?”
“We’re locked into the video feed of Eden’s apartment.”
Good. I’ll get to at least see her this trip.
A view of her was all that I’d hoped for, and Celina had taken that. I couldn’t even drive by her apartment without starting a street shoot-out. So far, our movements had been limited to free movement around the Red Light District.
Louis rose, moved to the side, and pointed to the screen. “Eden just came home.”
I sat down and looked.
The day had been crap. I’d rushed to Belladonna for a win and found myself playing right into the enemy’s hands. This news was the best I’d received all day.
Eden walked onto the screen, pushing away the darkness that surrounded me.
“You see the light in the corner.” Louis tapped the screen. “That lets you know, when Celina’s guards are watching. As you can see, the cameras are on right now.”
“When do they turn them off?”
“Apparently, when the roommate brought a guy to the living room and made out with him, the guard shut the camera off. So they must be instructed to stop viewing during private moments.”
“Hmm.” It was hard to focus on Louis’s words when Eden walked on the screen in front of me. “Give me a moment.”
“Rafael wanted to meet with you. He contacted the woman. Her name is Shalimar.”
“Did you find anything on her?”
“A lot.”
“Does this Shalimar have any problems in her life?”
“A big one.”
“Ger rid of it, before I talk to her.”
“Okay.” He walked away and left the room.
Eden.
Time stood still. My breathing grew shallow. My heart pounded. How I wished I was closer. So close, I could grab her and run away. Everything in my body craved for it to happen.
Eden set the violin case on the counter. When she took off her jacket, those lush breasts thrust forward. All this time, I hadn’t noticed how curvy she’d been. Those breasts were more than a handful.
How do you like your nipples sucked? Would you moan or be silent with your pleasure?
Eden threw her jacket on the couch’s arm and turned her stereo on. Berg’s Violin Concerto No. 2 played in the background. It was such an interesting song for her to turn on. While considered one of the top violin classical pieces, the song incited a disharmony that made me think of war. Berg composed where others didn’t think to travel. He visited space in his head and wrote his voyages down on musical sheets.
Is he one of your favorites?
There were so many questions I wondered about. I’d never felt this burning intensity for someone before.
Siren.
Whistling along, she went to the kitchen, pulled a drawer back, and lifted a big bag of marijuana out. I caught an excellent view of her ass. My fingers burned to caress the plumpness.
Is that a bag of weed in your hand? You have a vice?
It took her less than five minutes to roll a joint. The whole time she whistled some more. Once done, she hit the fridge, pulled out a beer, shut off the music, and camped out in her bedroom the rest of the evening.
I continued to watch her, not taking phone calls or meetings.
Her roommate never appeared. She didn’t chat with any friends on the phone or turn the television on.
What’s on your mind?
She didn’t look sad or depressed.
In fact, she appeared content.
Or am I just saying that to feel better?
Tonight, she was supposed to be on a date that I’d ruined. Part of me felt bad for ruining her evening. The other part was happy I didn’t have to kill an innocent man for simply desiring my beautiful Eden.
After an hour, she’d finished the joint and the beer. The empty glass sat on her nightstand.
Sighing, she lowered the lights, but didn’t shut it off. I still got a great view of her. She lay in the center of her bed with her eyes closed, but I knew she hadn’t fallen asleep. Her chest rose and fell. Sighing, she squeezed her thighs together.
What are you thinking about, Eden?
I had some idea, when she moved her hands to the top of her jeans and opened them. I gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward, yearning for her to take those damn jeans off.
As if she heard me, she obliged. Yet, she lowered the zipper too damn slow. Anticipation gripped my body. My senses came alive, buzzing with energy.
Dear God, if not for that damn woman, I would be over there, helping you take those jeans off.
She wiggled out of the jeans, exposing thick thighs and sexy legs. Her skin was soft and unblemished. I imagined leaving love marks all over her flesh, decorating her body with me.
I ran my fingers through my hair. This was wrong and right. Wrong that I couldn’t jump through the screen. Right that I didn’t have that ability because I would possibly scare the shit out of her.
She wore a candy red thong.
I grunted.
My cock jumped in my pants.
> What else would it do when triggered by lush beauty?
While I’d been in her aunt’s brothel all day surrounded by naked women, nothing had incited this effect on me. I fisted my hands, knowing I could rip that little bit of fabric away.
How wet are you, Eden?
A hot craving pulsed within me. I had to slip my cock inside her. I’d known that was one of the goals, but now I gritted my teeth at the fact.
My mind went to visions of her naked and tied to my bed. I’d never needed to possess someone this much. She had become more than an obsession.
I’d killed for her, so many bodies already littered the path to her heart.
No one will keep me from you, Eden. Not your aunt. No one. What does it feel like to be inside of you? How much would that pussy grip my cock? How hard could I make you come?
She slipped her fingers down the front of her thong.
Dear God. Louis, I’m going to give you a million dollars.
My heart boomed in my ears.
My cock grew in my boxer briefs, going stiff.
“Oh,” she moaned.
Eden, I’ve got to taste your pussy. How good does it feel against your fingers?
Rocking her hips, she parted her lips in pleasure and circled her fingers under the fabric.
“Damn it.” I ran both hands through my hair, unable to deal with what I was seeing. “I could fucking shoot somebody right now.”
This was something new. I wasn’t used to not getting exactly what I wanted. While Eden had been kept from me, I had no doubt that she would be mine. It was just the problem of seeing her right in front of me, looking so delicious, that had me losing my mind.
“Yes. Go faster.” She closed her eyes and twisted her hips. Her hands kept the rhythm on her clit.
My cock strained against my pants.
“Fuck it.” I unbuttoned my pants, pushed down my boxers, and freed that hungry length.
I’m now jacking off to you. This is what I’ve resorted to. I have men all over the world. Guns. Planes. Any amount of money one can imagine. And I’m sitting in a brothel of naked women, rubbing my cock to you.
Precum spilled from the tip. I smeared it around my cock. My balls ached from the movement. They wanted to be touched by her hands. Licked by that tongue. Sucked on by that beautiful mouth. They wanted to bounce against her wet pussy and get drenched.
When I have you, I’m going to keep you somewhere far from your aunt and fuck you every day.
I closed my fist around the fat length.
In my mind, Eden’s pussy slid up and down it. She was safe in my lap, bouncing, and shaking that plump ass.
She moaned.
I groaned with her, tightening the grip on my cock, loving the friction of my fingertips along the mushroomed tip. The sight of her had my body on edge, closer to an orgasm than I’d ever been.
Rocking into her fingers, she moved her free hand up under her shirt and teased one of those nipples.
“Take if off for me, Eden. . .please.” I stroked my cock harder and faster. My gaze never left the screen. I hungered for her body. Her mouth. That pussy. Those curvy legs. I even wanted to suck on those fingers as she now dipped them inside, slipping them back and forth.
Her fingers increased their pace, and I joined her rhythm. Studying it. Learning it. Taking note of the way she liked to stroke her own pussy.
She spread her legs and finger fucked herself to oblivion, arching her back up from the bed.
Goddamn. You’re hot. A fucking siren. I want to bury my face in that sweet pussy.
“Yes, Eden. Come for me, baby.” I came right with her, spurting liquid onto the laptop and my pants. I made a disgusting mess and didn’t care. Some of the cum dotted the screen, and I loved it. Loved that my view of her was wet with my sperm.
One day I planned to do it in person.
Soon.
I must be careful.
Take my time.
But soon.
Very fucking soon.
Chapter 23
Seven Days of Heaven
Eden
The first week of the “Girlfriend Experience” continued with ease.
Every morning, he whispered, “Assieds-toi sur mon visage.”
It was the command to sit on his face. He loved to lick my pussy from behind.
I didn’t need to contact Shalimar for any advice.
Jesus.
Those soft caresses from his fingers and tongue were the best way to start a day.
The brightness of the sun peeked through the slats of the window blinds. Jean-Pierre wrapped his muscular arm around my waist. His hard cock pressed against my ass.
I moved to turn over, but Jean-Pierre kept me close, not allowing an inch of separation between our bodies.
He rubbed his length against my ass as his mouth trailed down the back of my neck. “Assieds-toi sur mon visage.”
He pressed another kiss against my neck. I arched and pushed my ass on him, slipping it along that long cock.
He slid his hands down the inside of my panties and slipped along the lips of my pussy.
“Jean-Pierre,” I moaned.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed to do this each morning.” He slipped one finger inside of me. “Now I get to have you right in my bed.”
He rubbed his thumb along my clit.
My body trembled against him. A lusty fog swirled inside my head.
“Now I get to taste you as much as I want.” His breath increased in speed, leaving his body in quick bursts next to my ear and moving with the rhythm of his finger inside my pussy.
I can do this all day. I definitely started the wrong career.
He lowered in the next moment, putting his face on the level of my ass and yanking my panties down with his hands. “Finally, Eden. Finally.”
And then he tongued my pussy from behind, sending me into a hurricane of lust. I gripped the silk sheets and groaned in pleasure.
He hummed along my lips.
My pussy dripped in arousal.
My body drummed along with his.
I came as the sun rose higher in the sky.
This experience proved to be an amazing opportunity. He wouldn’t be all mine, but I could taste him. He wasn’t my boyfriend, but I could pretend for these days.
And so, I slipped into my position just as easily as he slipped inside of my heart.
Granted, I let him walk in. I opened my emotions, unable to close the door on something that felt good.
There was a comfort level to Jean-Pierre. When he was around, we enjoyed ourselves. When he wasn’t, I had free-reign of the penthouse, the ability to instruct his driver to take me anywhere I desired, and a new credit card with my name on it sitting in my purse. I spent my time with Jean-Pierre, and when I was alone, I gave my attention to Eros.
There were many moments when Jean-Pierre rushed away to deal with business.
Most of the time I had all his attention. And it was a beautiful experience to be the center of his view. His gaze never left my face when I spoke. He listened to me as if he’d been waiting for years to hear me speak.
No matter what, we had lunch together at 12pm. He never came late or re-scheduled. And when we ate, it was in different places.
On Monday, we yachted with high tea and lobster-stuffed finger sandwiches on Le Chemin de L'amour river.
Tuesday, we had a picnic on the beach, munching on curry pulled-chicken sandwiches stuffed with mango chutney and curry yogurt sauce on the side. Afterwards, I raced Jean-Pierre to the shoreline, cheated from the start, and barely beat him. He took his revenge in the ocean, splashing me to annihilation.
It stormed on Wednesday. Gray clouds hovered over Belladonna. Violent winds whipped at the penthouse. Water battered the windows. Inside his bedroom, we made love in the center of his massive bed, never leaving or taking a break. Silk sheets slipped along our bodies as we rocked into each other. And I craved it all, loving the taste. The feast. The delicious warmth of
us. The room was silent, except for the mattress’s bouncing and our moans. Afterwards, we ate cheesecake, made love again, and then stuffed ourselves with cheeses and fresh breads in the evening.
I wish this would never end.
He told me on Thursday morning that he’d never been to a fair. It gave me an idea to take him to one. When he rushed away on business, I went to the living room.
His guard Louis watched a soccer game.
The big man paused, rose from the couch, and held a neutral expression. “How can I help you, Mrs. Eden?”
“You don’t have to call me Mrs. Eden.” I gave him a nervous smile. “Eden is fine.”
Louis didn’t respond.
I cleared my throat. “So…I was wondering, if I could plan a date for Jean-Pierre.”
He widened his eyes a tiny bit. “What were you thinking?”
“Well, do you think he would mind me planning something?”
“No, I’m just. . .not an expert in planning dates for Jean-Pierre.”
“That’s okay. I just wanted to take him to the fair. There’s a medieval one on the edge of Belladonna.”
He nodded. “Give me the location and I’ll carry out the necessary orders.”
“Oh.” Shocked, I blinked. “I was going to buy the tickets online and—”
“You’re not to spend your own money.” He pulled out his phone and spoke in French.
I stood there, not sure if he’d finished the conversation or not. I got ready to walk off, and he hung up.
“Everything is in place.” Louis checked his watch. “We’ll have you both there in two hours. They know the location. Men are heading to the location.”
“Wow. Thanks a lot.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Anything else?”
“It’s. . .probably a stupid question.”
He gave me an odd smile. “I get stupid questions all day.”
“Do you think Jean-Pierre would like a fair? Or would it be. . .boring to him?”
Louis considered the questions for a quiet minute and then looked at me. “I believe Jean-Pierre would enjoy any place as long as he’s with you.”
“I hope you’re right.”
His face went back to neutral. “I usually am. However, the gaming booths will get his attention, especially if it’s swinging a weapon at something.”
