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2022-10-13 14:02:32
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The Billionare's Pretend Wife Leave
The bed was still warm where Richard’s body had lain, but my lover was gone. In bare feet, I padded to the kitchen and found a pile of torn paper on the counter. Our dominant/submissive contract, in pieces. Beside it, a bright pink sticky-note—a love-note with his handwriting—stuck to the black granite counter. As a submissive, you have all the control. Love, Richard.He’d told me that before, and I never grasped the meaning. Yet when I thought of our relationship as a whole, I realized Richard gave me everything I ever needed. He gave me punishment when I asked for it. He gave me space when I—like a child having a temper tantrum—walked away from him. Through it all, he had been there for me in every way I needed. He loved me. And I loved him. Where do we go from here?I pulled up his number on my cell phone and dialed. The call went to voicemail, but I left a message. “Hey. Thanks for stopping by last night.” I didn’t know what to say. “I . . . uh, I wanted to see if you’ll go on a
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Kisses
Natasha sat on the bed and leveled the rifle at me while I got a pair of jeans and a shirt out of my suitcase. He ripped them from my hand and threw them into the closet. “Where is the dress I sent to you? The one you wore at the fundraiser.”I snarled, “I threw it in the trash.” “A shame. Find something else. Something nice!”I held up a sleeveless black dress and he seemed satisfied. I dressed behind the closed bathroom door then put on a pair of black high heels.Natasha’s beady eyes followed me like a coyote seeking fresh prey. “Where is your diamond collar?”I’d left it here the last time I returned to Chicago. The black velvet box sat on top of the dresser still. Natasha saw where my gaze landed and prodded me with the rifle. “Wear it.” I clipped the necklace around my throat as Natasha came to my side to examine the jeweled collar. My shoulder. My hair. His touch sickened me. He clasped his hand around my throat and squeezed. “He marked you with this. He thinks he owns you.
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Return
He said he’d be there for me when I returned. Since the weekend trip was short, I packed a small bag that included a bathing suit, change of clothes and one sheath dress for dinner the night before my dive. On the late-night two-hour flight from Chicago to Burlington, Vermont, I perused Google’s list of top sights near Lake Champlain. I’d never before been to South Burlington, where American history and museums abounded. My finger hovered over the link to the Church Street Marketplace—an outdoor shopping mall that stretched four blocks. It brought to mind the horrific day Roman was kidnapped. I shut my laptop and lay my head back on the headrest. I envied the woman sleeping across the aisle from me. Her deep breathing sounded peaceful. That kind of contentment felt out of my reach.At seven-thirty last night, Greg had driven me to The Office Bar, where I met with Charlie Reid for a much needed pep-talk. She walked me through a plan to help Bohdi Michaels avoid the twenty-year priso
The Billionare's Pretend Wife The floor
I spent a week in Chicago, visiting Roman and diving into work. I avoided Richard because I needed time to think things through. Richard said he loved me. He’d done everything in his power to help find Roman. Then he donated the one million dollars to the battered women’s shelter.I needed to go to him. I needed to see if he could give me what I wanted.I stepped into the dimly lit Lake Forest house with my agenda at the forefront of my mind. With the FBI team gone, an unusual sense of quiet had settled over the house. Security guards hung around quietly minding their own business, yet ever watchful.The scar on my leg ached. I dropped my things in the bedroom and went to the one place where my dark fantasy could be realized. Where the security guards would not be. The dungeon. In the basement, I pushed open the unlocked door to Richard’s playroom. As if he’d been expecting me, red nightlights on two walls cast long shadows of the X-rack and a coffin-sized cage. My eyes adjusted, an
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Black
A heavy-set man in a black suit opened the tall glass doors of Red Lace Escort Service for us. I recognized him as the man who—weeks earlier—handed me the titanium business card with Bohdi’s number. He pulled back his jacket and showed us his pistol. I followed Richard into the brightly lit office, where two other thugs were waiting. One stood near the office door with his automatic rifle in hand. One had been reclining on the fuchsia loveseat and when we walked in he sat up at attention, pointing his Uzi our way. I had left my Browning with Greg. Curbelo had outfitted us both with bullet-proof vests. The heavy armor made my breathing shallow. I wore the micro-transmitter—a necklace that looked like a tear-drop pendant—because Curbelo was afraid Richard would be frisked.“Ms. Robert,” the heavy man said. “’Dis way.” He pointed to the hall that lead to Angelique’s office but didn’t follow us. I understood now that the organization wanted me to represent Bohdi because they didn’t think
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Overnight
Fy scorched me inside. If Richard knew something about Roman’s disappearance, he’d have hell to pay. Once we arrived at Lake Forest, I flew around the house looking for him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was Grant. The empty black leather desk chair in his office faced the window as if watching for someone to return.Two at a time, I leapt up the stairs and opened the Kendo room door—hushed quiet. I exited quickly. Down the hall to my left, Richard’s stark bedroom. I swung the door wide and let it crash into the wall behind it. Benjamin Kyle stared back at me.“Richard?” I called.No answer. Frustrated and angry, I backed out of the room and right into Jonathan’s arms.“Thena. I—”“What the hell, Richard?” I backed away from him and faced him head on. “This is your fault!” I was furious. I was frightened. I was losing control.“I’m so sorry.” Richard didn’t say a word in his defense. He looked me in the eye. “I’m calling FBI Agent Curbelo now. We need to inform her.” Richard already h
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Fault
Something was strange as we entered my condo. Confident that I’d turned all the lights off, it surprised me to see the blue seed-glass pendants over the kitchen counter turned on. Motion caught my attention out of the left corner of my eye and every nerve in my body sprang to attention. My free hand
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Life
Jonathon was a sensuous, attuned lover, mindful and meticulously attending to my needs. At times, I resisted his touch, climbing on top of him and taking him in my mouth. Giving pleasure to him satisfied a deep need to return his kindness. I submitted to the exquisite feeling of his weight on top of
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Pass
A long with Natasha’s mugshot, Bohman Underwood sent a short article translated from Croatian. The author suspected there was more behind the Dubrovnik General Hospital’s firing Natasha than was on paper. Natasha was suspected of stealing drugs from their supply rooms. A photo of him with known orga
The Billionare's Pretend Wife Check
Roman arrived Saturday in her cerulean blue Toyota hybrid, parking in the brick, circular driveway. She crawled out of the car as I ran outside to greet her. Her head tilted upward; her gaze drawn to the eight triangular gables on the roofline of Richard’s house. “Wow.” “Hello to you, too,” I said.
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