Derekica Snake My Hostage My Love [MM] (pdf)

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the hired help or she had tried and it didn t work on him. I think
she was an equal opportunity tormentor so either Antoine was gay
or suffered from E.D.
I m not the one you have to worry about. Erik should be on
his meds if he has gotten this unpredictable already. Olga perched
on the edge of the bed.
Don t worry, if Erik comes in, I can put him down. She pat
the back of my hand then turned her face back to the behemoth of
a mocha toned man in orderly scrubs. You know how capable I
am, Antoine. Now, shoo. Trevor and I need to discuss some
things.
Antoine paused for a moment then turned and left the room.
Then it was me and the Russian bombshell whose attention was
focused on the tropical scene outside my window wall. I toyed
briefly with the thoughts of overpowering her but then again why
bother? I was on a private island. Where the hell was I going to
hide? Under a coconut?
And I remembered the strength in that lithe body from the
time in Tahiti. Olga was a woman who knew what she wanted and
she had no qualms about taking it from your tormented body and
you blissfully thanked her for it. I thought that one time we were
goofing around as she pinned me to the ground and rode herself to
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Derekica Snake
ecstasy on my little pony . The position was uncomfortable and it
hurt but when I tried to shift her, I found I couldn t. Thinking back
on it now; that was rape.
What the hell? Did I have Victim tattooed on my forehead?
There was a brief pause until she was sure that Antoine was out
of earshot and she turned her attention back to me.
Questions...you ve got them but first I m going to tell you a story.
Don t pout, Trev. It s not a flattering look for you.
I just kept my eyes forward staring up at the ceiling. I felt like
such a chump. The charity trip was before Erik I thought but now
it stunk of him. Back then I was overweight, what I liked to call a
little chunky, and pale. I was beyond flattered when this goddess
of a woman hit on me at the poolside bar.
I got a coconut cup with an umbrella stuck in it from the lady
at the end of the bar. I should have known something was off.
Pretty doesn t date pudgy. Fact of life 101. She was way out of my
league. Based on this depth of this deception, she was so far out of
my league that she was playing a different game.
How old are you? She ran a hand up to smooth her hair.
Huh? What?
Do you know? Olga shifted and lifted a tanned leg up to
rest on top of the mattress beside me. My hand knew what the skin
of her calf felt like, the back of her knee; the way her muscles
moved so sleekly under her flesh. Lies. She is the Empress of Lies.
I m twenty-seven. I looked passed her to the open doorway.
What are you basing that on, love? A hand reached up and
plucked a stray lock of hair off my forehead. She smoothed it off
my face. Hmmm?
I turned my head away lifting my hand up to rake my overly
long hair off my face. I could do without her pity party touches. She
was leaning forward trying to pin me with those deep brown velvet
eyes. Her perfectly plucked eye brown arched. So based on that
number of twenty-seven, that means you were born in 1981?
I frowned. No, the nuns told me that I was born in 1975. What
was going on? Basic math. I worked in a bank for hells sake and I
couldn t calculate how old I was?
What is your last name? Olga hovered over me.
Howell. I had to clear my throat to croak that out.
She shook her head. I actually cringed when she reached out to
me. She touched the side of my head and her fingers traced along
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My Hostage My Love
my scalp until her tips found the long scar that my hair hid. Where
did you get this scar, Trevor? Do you know? Can you remember?
I turned my head away.
You can t can you. It was more of statement than an actual
question.
You seem to be the one with all the answers. Why did you
stalk me?
Stalk you? That is such a harsh term for what we had
together. I considered it a pleasurable interlude resulting from our
paths crossing. She laid her hand flat on my chest then swept it
down towards my groin. I blocked her passage with my wrist and
forced her hand off me.
You ve slimmed down and toned up since Tahiti. I think I got
screwed. She gave me an artful pout but her velvet eyes gleamed
with something a little more sinister than mischief. I was actually
scared of her so I resisted the obvious you got screwed Bitch, how
about me? reply.
What am I doing here? Why is he doing this to me? I was
proud that my voice was steady and tinged with anger. It didn t hint
at any of the quivering butterflies that were threatening to stage a
riot in my stomach
Why is he doing this? Olga cocked her head to one side
sending her hair cascading back down her arm and over her breasts.
He s doing this because this is what you trained him to do. He [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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