by Alice Ward
She walked slowly, obviously sore from the day. I thought of offering to carry her but decided to stay by her side and be patient. It took us awhile to get to my room, but she never got frustrated and her dignity and style never diminished. When we arrived at my part of the house, relief flooded her face.
“Why don’t you have a seat.” I motioned to the chaise in the sitting area. “It’s pretty late, would you like to go to bed?” I realized I sounded more like a father than a lover.
“I’m a little tired,” she confessed and sat. “Is your sister’s room far?” I could see she was teasing me, letting me choke on my own awkward way of asking her to my room earlier.
I handed her a glass of water and kissed her forehead. “If you want, this is as far as you have to go, if you don’t mind sleeping with me here. The bed’s huge, and I promise I’ll let you just sleep.” I flashed her a guilty smile.
Unless she didn’t want to sleep…
Her head bowed, and her eyes closed, as if she was preparing herself for something. I waited.
“I don’t usually sleep in my mask, it’s not very comfortable.” Her voice was small and distant.
“Oh, right, of course.” My chest constricted. She was afraid to sleep with me because I would see her without the mask. I didn’t know what to say to her. I felt a little lost. “Well, the room is just down the hall, not too far, the second door on the left. I can take you if you want.”
I was trying to be cordial and normal, but all I wanted to do was whip my businessman skills out and sell her on ripping the damn mask off of her face. But I had to wait for her to get to the next level of trust.
“But…” I hesitated for a moment, feeling anxious. “Sooner or later, you’ll need to take it off, if there’s not going to be anything between us. I’m ready whenever you are. But it’s entirely up to you.”
She took a deep breath. I could hear the ragged intake as she battled… what? Fear? Shame? Rejection?
Without a word, her fingers raised to her face, and my heart began to thud hard against my ribs. She grasped the mask, and it began to lower. Lower.
Please, god, don’t let me say the wrong thing. Don’t let me react the wrong way.
She kept her head bowed as silent tears dripped onto her robe, turning the plum an even deeper shade of purple. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, and after a few moments, I could tell she was waiting for me to make the next move.
I knelt in front of her and took her chin in my hand, applying pressure but not forcing her to lift her face to mine. I held my hand steadfast. I would face this with her.
After a few deep breaths, she raised her head and looked me in the eye with so much bravery, tears burned at my own damn eyes.
There was an angry red scar from the top of her eye socket, running through her temple and nearly to her jawline, as if a streak of lightning had been painted across her face. The lines were hard, deep and jagged, pulling at her eye. The injury must have been bad, if this was the result after surgeries.
And it didn’t diminish her beauty at all.
Using my thumb, I traced a line beneath the scar, and I couldn’t keep the awe of seeing her face for the first time out of my voice. “You look like a warrior princess who’s survived a terrible battle.” Which she had. And because of it, she was more real than any other person I’d ever known.
Like the heroines of fantasies, she was more interesting and alluring with her scar.
Her face on the undamaged side was exquisite. I remembered Adara being beautiful, but she’d matured and become as close to perfection as a human could get. The side with her scar looked… like she had a scar. It was long and deep, and she’d been very lucky to not have lost her eye. Even though it pulled her eyelid in an odd direction, there wasn’t anything frightening about it. It was much worse in her mind.
And it was probably much worse to an industry that expected perfection from its stars.
I smooth my hand over the crooked line and kissed her cheek, then her temple. She shivered under my touch, so I lifted her from the chair and carried her to bed. I then wrapped her in the warm fluffy duvet, and slid in behind her, engulfing her in my arms.
I scooped her close, and our fingers twined together. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I knew my erection was pushing into her backside, and I was sure she could feel my need for her, but tonight wasn’t about satisfying needs. It was about forging a path into the unknown, together.
She didn’t say anything, just let out a soft sigh as her muscles relaxed and laid in my arms until sleep claimed her.
I nuzzled close, hoping to protect her from the monsters in her head, and followed her into the deep black of unconsciousness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Adara
When I woke up in the morning, there was no light yet peeking between the drapes. Which I couldn’t look at now without the mental image of a nude Roman wrapped in them, posing with his trade goods stacked all around.
I snickered and looked quickly at Roman, who was sleeping by my side, to make sure I hadn’t woken him.
I watched his face as he slept. He was so beautiful, and not just physically handsome but also loving. And so attentive to any need I might have. He hadn’t seemed shocked when I revealed my face as I’d expected he would. Despite the terrible scar, he still said I was beautiful. I wanted to believe him, was starting to believe him.
But what if, when he woke up and he saw my face in the light, he felt differently?
I wanted to lean into the feelings of peace and safety being here with him had given me, but something kept me from fully giving into those emotions. It was because of the women I’d left behind at Jewel. A dark, malevolent feeling settled over me when I thought of them, but I had an idea, something I was turning around in my mind but hadn’t quite smoothed out yet. But before I could make my plan a reality, I had to truly face where my life had led and what I needed to do to make a new one for myself.
Watching Roman sleep, I wanted to caress his face, lightly kiss those amazing lips. At the same time, I wanted to draw back the emotions thinking of kissing him flooded me with. I knew I couldn’t have a casual fling with this man. I didn’t want temporary. I wanted love and permanency and I didn’t know if he was looking for that. Men usually weren’t. He’d frequented Jewel, and men who walked into brothels weren’t looking for a wife. Most were looking to avoid one.
I had to take control and get my life together, which was really my only recourse at this point. And I needed to know if Brandy and the other girls were okay.
Thinking of my cell phone, I knew I’d managed to avoid it long enough. The phone felt diseased, and I knew the minute I touched it, I would be infected. However, I had to face life at one point or another.
As I moved to grab my phone, Roman stirred next to me and his strong arm pulled me to him. “What are you doing?” he growled, a sleepy rasp in his voice.
“Getting my phone,” I whispered. “I should probably face things sooner or later.”
“Later.” He kissed my shoulder as he moved me closer to his body. “It’s too early for life.”
I could feel his morning erection on the back of my thigh. I wanted to make love to him, but I was afraid. The sunlight was creeping through the window and I had nothing to hide behind. This was me, raw and real.
I closed my eyes and willed my heartbeat to slow again. Willed myself to be strong enough to own who I was now, and to cherish Roman for what he could give me, even if it was temporary.
He wrapped his leg around mine. “Whatever you’re thinking, let it go. We’re okay. This is good, Adara, everything is going to be good,” he said as he angled his hips into my backside.
God, I wanted to make love to him. My heart started pummeling my chest as he reached his hand under my nightgown and pressed it over my breasts. He kissed my neck and nestled his cock into the cleft of my ass.
“I don’t have to be at work for a few hours. W
hat do you say to a morning quickie?” To punctuate his words, his hand ran down my stomach and cupped me between my legs.
“Mmm, I love mornings.” A rush of excitement overtook me as I felt him roll over and heard the ripping of foil.
When he returned, his chest was pressed against my back, and he pulled my leg up over his hip, bringing me closer to his erection. As he leaned in and kissed me, his pelvis undulated against my thigh in a slow and intoxicating rhythm. His fingers slid down to my center and moved my underwear aside, ran his finger across my lips and pressed deeper, gliding across the sensitive skin between. Heat filled me.
He moaned low in his throat as he pulled his slick fingers away. “You’re already wet for me. My cock wants to be inside you, but he’s a bit hard to handle in the morning. You think you can take it?” His fingers pinched my nipples and his dick pressed up between my legs. “I promise not to break you, mostly.”
At his words, my pussy flooded, and I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning as he slid his huge cock between my thighs.
I must have moaned. “Is that a yes?” he asked as he teased my opening with his tip.
“Yes,” I sighed.
He then slowly glided himself in, inch by inch, until he was settled deep within me. I held my breath as my body stretched to accommodate him, but the feeling of fullness was mind blowing. When he started moving, I met him thrust for thrust. It was like I was a part of him as we moved in sync, tuned into what the other wanted. Needed.
When he pulled out, I frowned at the emptiness.
He grinned at me and commanded with a spank on my ass, “Turn over on your stomach and raise your cute ass a little.”
I did what he ordered and wiggled my bum for him.
“This ass is the sweetest thing,” he said as he bent down behind me and licked straight up my center, from my labia to my puckering hole.
Kneeling behind me, he slid himself back in. From this angle, his cock stretched me even more and filled me so good I thought I could come at any second.
“That feel okay?”
His breath hitched as I answered by rocking back on him, pushing him so deep that pain was tiny stabs that raised the pleasure even more.
“Adara,” he rasped as his pelvis moved in tighter to my hips, pushing his cock in even deeper. His hips jackhammered in quick bursts, and I bore down on him until he spread my body wide, as wide as my hips would reach.
Then he impaled me, burrowing so deep, fast, undulating. I lost the ability to breathe. His hands held my shoulders, keeping my body still as he tortured it deliciously, mounting me hard and fast. My center was in tight knots, a pressure building that had me losing control of my moans.
When he pressed me down into the bed and laid all of his body weight on me, his cock leaping in and out of me, I felt it ricochet against the walls of my vagina, and the ball of tension inside me exploded.
He came with me, his feral sounds increasing my pleasure as I shattered around him and drenched him with my arousal. My body held him tight as he pulsed mercilessly in me, coming with a shout.
He fell onto the bed and stayed buried in me, thrusting sporadically as spasms hit us and we moaned.
He kissed my neck as he carefully pulled out. “Did I hurt you?”
“It’s a good hurt,” I winced, feeling both sore and needfully deprived of his cock.
“Good, you’ll remember me then while I’m at work.” He smoothed his fingers across my aching, satisfied sex.
As if the universe had heard him mumble the word “work,” his phone rang. He groaned and rolled over to press it to his ear.
“Roman Wellington,” he snapped, and I stiffened automatically at the formalness of his voice. There was a long pause as he listened to the caller.
I watched his face turn from sleepy satisfaction to suppressed anger. His breathing became forced, and a pique of anxiety bloomed in my stomach.
“I’ll be in right away,” he said through gritted teeth and tossed the phone onto the bed. “Something’s come up at work. I’ve got to go.” He headed for the closet and the long line of suits he had to choose from.
“I’m sorry… I hope everything is okay.” I sat up and studied the hard countenance that had replaced the man who’d just joked about his giant dick before fucking my brains out. For a reason I couldn’t name, my heart began to beat erratically.
Feeling overwhelmed and like the ground I was walking on kept crumbling under me, I watched him. When he turned and looked back at me, it was with his signature intense stare that didn’t give anything away. I’d learned enough about him to know that this look was him hiding his feelings.
He was so fond of asking me if I was okay, I wanted to extend the same courtesy. “You seem upset. Are you okay?”
“I think we’ll need to put a pin in this, I have a lot on my plate right now.” His voice was cold and distant, and he turned away, pulling a jacket off the rack.
My body turned as cold as his tone. Put a pin… “Do you want me to leave?”
He froze, looking at me oddly. “No…no… I—”
“I’m not sure what we’re doing, Roman. I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
He looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for divine guidance. “I’m not sure either. There’s a lot of firsts for me here. And right now, I need to work, so…”
Whether he knew it or not, his eyes immediately went to the scar and my heart fell.
“You take a shower here, and I’ll use the one in the guest room. I’ve got to get into work as soon as possible, I’ve got a crisis on my hands.”
“Okay,” I said in a daze. His crisis was because of me, I knew. Because of me, his business was in jeopardy.
“This isn’t about you, Adara, I just need a minute. I’ll see you tonight when I get home.” He tried to sound genuine, but I could tell it took some effort.
Feeling unsettled and unsure of what was happening, I took a shower. It felt good to be alone with my thoughts. The warm water cascaded over my body, easing the soreness, and erasing some of my fears. I wanted to stay here forever under the pelting spray, but I had to be brave enough to walk back into his bedroom and talk to him about us.
After my shower, he’d already gone, but my phone dinged and a message from him popped up. I’ll see you tonight, probably late. Don’t answer your phone. I’ll have someone pick up your stuff from Jewel. Do you have access to your account online? Check and make sure your funds are there.
It was only a text message, but he seemed so efficient and controlling. This was a side of Roman I didn’t know, his billionaire businessman side.
Another text message popped up from Roman before I had time to answer the first. Miss White will take you into town today to buy you some clothes. Get anything you want on me.
I stared at the message. I hated… hated… being told what to do.
With gritted teeth, I texted back. Thanks for all of your help, but you don’t need to buy my clothes. I’m a big girl. I can handle getting my belongings back. Dammit, pride. Could I?
I was filled with confusion because of the way he had changed so suddenly, and I hated feeling so insecure in my own abilities. If I had a place to go, I would have left. I didn’t want him to buy me stuff, it would be too much like the set up at Jewel. He was rich beyond my wildest imagination and could afford to purchase several women with his extravagance, but he couldn’t buy me. Was he trying to? Or was I just being paranoid?
As I sat on his bed, I realized that I was feeling more emotion all at once than I’d allowed myself for over two years. To me, waves of emotions like this were like a rainbow that — if I could get them down in words — would shoot out into the great unknown and touch someone else’s life in the form of a song.
I jumped up off the bed, galvanized for the first time in many months and quickly limped for his study. There, I found a notebook and pen, never mind that it wasn’t my normal notebook. Then I went to the study in the guest wing, built a fire, and curled up in the
deep-cushioned chair and put words that turned into lyrics down on paper.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Roman
My hands clenched around the steering wheel. I hated leaving Adara with that look on her face. I knew I’d hurt her. I’d just fucked her brains out and then essentially walked out.
But dammit… I had shit to deal with. Surely, she could understand that.
A new story broke overnight and would be appearing in all the newspapers this morning. Already, since New York was three hours ahead of us, Crave.com stocks had ticked lower. The phones were ringing off the hook, both large and small clients demanding answers, some wanting to break their contract. It was a disaster.
When it hit, the article alleged that Crave.com and our famous coffee brand, Krave Koffee, were exploiting the workers in a small village in Brazil. At the least of their claims was the allegation that I was paying a fraction of the cost for the beans.
I squealed to a stop in front of a gas station, went in and bought a paper. I wanted to know just what was waiting for me when I got to the office.
The front-page article summarized my local dealings, then read:
“The reason we get everything on Crave.com for such a steal is that they’re stealing from their suppliers,” said an unnamed source. Crave founder, Roman Wellington, a supposed long-time champion of fair trade and global equality, has been revealed in a scandal which alleges he’s forced child laborers and underpaid workers to live and work under slavelike conditions in Brazil. His company has also been named in a lawsuit that claims he’s trafficked young workers for the fields and the sex trade.
After reading those words, my mind whirled with anger. I didn’t dare read the rest, but Adam had told me there were interviews with workers from our coffee operation in Brazil and testimonials from villagers, farmers, and children who all claimed to have been bought by our company. The most convincing of these interviews was a fifteen-year-old girl who said she’d been sold to Crave.
