Santos followed me into my office and lowered himself to a chair without waiting for an invitation. I was aware of his eyes on my back as I walked confidently to my chair and sat down too. I stared at him without speaking.
“You've grown into an exquisite woman. You were pretty the last time I saw you, but you weren't this gorgeous. Your curves filled out too,” he said in that lazy drawl that never ceased to send shivers down my spine.
The compliments fluttered me up inside, and I felt my vagina clench. My fingers tightened on the paper I was holding to keep from jumping him. Closing my eyes tight, I took a deep breath to get myself back together again.
I could stomach being attracted to all the men on earth—it was something I have resigned myself to a long time ago—but being sexually attracted to Santos could never be okay. Not anymore.
“You don't look so bad yourself.” I was glad my voice remained controlled.
“Glad you noticed,” he smirked.
“Why are you here, San? Stop sidestepping the question. You've stayed away for six years. Why are you suddenly here?” I asked him, staring into his blue eyes.
Silence. Then, “I've always liked it when you call me San. The way you say it sounds good.”
I remained silent, just watching him.
Finally, he sighed. The smile left his face, and all signs of teasing were gone. It was as if his smile hadn’t been there at all. “My father is very sick. His health is failing. Surely, you know this.”
All defiance left and guilt plagued me. Santos’s father is my mother’s sister. He has always loved his adoptive family. And even as tries to hide it, I still see the pain in his eyes.
“I know. I'm really sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged like it didn't matter, although I knew better. “I have to run the company so he can focus on his treatment. I'm not here for any other reason, Rosianna. Definitely not for you.”
I sat opposite him, composed, making sure my face was expressionless so he wouldn’t see how his words affected me, even though they did. They affected me a lot.
Santos and I never saw eye-to-eye, but there was a time we had a truce. That one time...
He stood suddenly. “It's nice seeing you again, Rosy. Mother has travelled to Africa. I heard that you’ve been helping my family keep business going for a while now, and for that, I’m grateful. Let’s get together for dinner tonight. You can give me a rundown of how everything has been going.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time to—”
“I know you don’t wanna spend time with me, Rosy. I don't wanna spend time with you either if I can avoid it, but I do need to have that conversation, so let’s set our differences aside and act like adults. If you don’t wanna do it for me, then do it for your uncle.” He threw each word out with his eyes narrowing challengingly.
He was right. I could be matured about it, and I was doing it for my uncle, not for him.
“Alright then. Text me the location. I’ll be there by seven,” I stated calmly.
“Sounds nice.” Then he was out of the door.
I had to force my eyes away from his tight ass and broad shoulders as he walked out. My body tingled from head to toe. My vagina clenched so tight, I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
Sex. I needed sex.
When I left work, I didn't wait for my assistant to bring in her report as usual. Instead, I got into my Mercedes and left the building. I went back home, crossed the lawn that separated Donald’s house with mine, stepped onto his pouch and knocked on his front door. Donald was my best friend/fuck buddy. The only random fuck I'd had since I moved here two years ago, and he was basically the only friend I had. Normally, I preferred fucking strangers, but it wasn’t a normal situation. There was no time to go man-hunting in a bar right now. Santos's return had uprooted my world.
A woman opened it and stepped out, She was putting on his shirt. “Oh, it's the neighbor he told me about.”
Donald had girlfriends—he was almost something of a manwhore—but compared to Santos, he was a walking angel.
“Where's Donald?” I asked.
“He travelled yesterday. Said you might look for him but to tell you that he won't be back until Saturday. Is there a message I should take for him?”
Saturday was two days away. Shit.
“Thanks.” That was all I said to the girl as I turned and walked away.
Inside my house, I walked straight to my room. Usually, it took three or four days before the sexual urge came. Long enough to have a new guy. But today...
Santos. It was his presence.
I mentally went over every other man I knew in my head, but there was no one I could think of. Funny how I'd been with several men but only knew one of them by name. Donald was the only male friend I had.
I dropped my suitcase, took off my clothes, and went straight to the bathroom. In the bathtub, I allowed myself to relax as I began caressing my body. My eyes closed, and I went through several erotic images in my mind and slipped two fingers into my wet sheath. Involuntarily, my mind went to Santos. More wetness coated my fingers, and pleasures sizzled down my spine, a moan escaping my lips.
Shit. Mentally, I tried to shut him out. It was like trying to stop a hurricane. I really tried hard, but the pleasure was too much to pass up on, and in the end, it was the thought of him that filled my head as I rubbed my clit and played with my breasts. Those images I blocked years ago broke free; the thought of his naked body, his handsome face contorted in pleasure, his strong body as it blanketed mine. The way he kissed me. His mouth on my breast...
Another moan slipped from my lips, my fingers pushing into me as I chased my release I could feel beginning to build. It didn't take long before I flew over the edge, gasping his name as sensations washed over me.
As usual, I quenched the feeling of disgust that threatened to rise. Also, I ignored the shame that came from masturbating to Santos. I agreed with myself years ago that Santos was bad news and a very bad decision on my part.
I sighed and proceeded to bathe thoroughly before leaving the tub. Masturbation never helped a thing, but then again, half-bread is better than none.
Better to be prepared. I had to see Santos in an hour.
All dressed up, I pulled out the three different-coloured pills I took occasionally and stared at the little drugs that had become a part of me for a long time.Red one is contraceptive. White one is a soothener.Brown rubber one is a sex hormone depressant.Three pills that cost a fortune—because they were pills without side effects. Pills that were quite necessary in my life. I threw them into my mouth and drank water to push them down.Ready to go, I picked up my bag and headed out. I was still beating myself up for not getting Santos to pick a location right there in my office as I drove to his home. A big mistake on my part.“Come to the house, Rosy,” he'd drawled. “Don't tell me you've forgotten how to get here.”I hadn't, but I didn't tell him that. My hesitation was because I knew Santos was the only person in that house, and when Santos was alone at home, he'd be busy. The manwhore.That house also held great memories for me—memories I buried years ago and had to try harder
ROSIANNAI'd done something stupid. I'd done something really stupid.Why did I have to enter the room? I should have stayed outside. What gave me the impression that I could pull it off like I did when I was eighteen? I was no longer eighteen. I was not that sweet little virgin anymore. No, I was quite the opposite. So, why the hell did I enter the room, and worse, allow myself to sit through it?My whole body was on fire. Every little part of me. I needed relief and I needed it quick, or I’d break down right in front of Santos. It was the one shame I'd rather die than go through in front of him.“Rosy? Are you alright?” he drawled, not really concerned but amused.“You're a first-class bastard, Santos,” I whispered, my voice almost shaky and hoarse with the strength of my anger and desire for that man.He chuckled softly and walked away from me to the bed and started folding the sheets. “We've already established that long before I went abroad.”My pussy clenched. I felt shaky on th
I didn't stand there after Santos walked away. Instead, I walked—staggered—my way out of his bedroom, my body shaking. For the first time in a long time, tears filled my eyes because of what happened when I was eighteen.Jason, that bastard. Oh, God, that bastard!The cool air that hit me outside didn't help my arousal one bit. “Where's the nearest club?” I asked a woman I met just outside Santos's compound. I thanked God that it was dark. The woman couldn't see my tears.“Just down the next block, my dear,” she answered before she continued on her way.I was deeply shaking as I made my way to the club—both with the arousal gnawing at me and the accusations Santos had just made. At the front door of the club, I dried my tears. With my chin lifted, I walked into the club, sidestepping slow-dancers, avoiding looking at couples making out. It didn't take long for men to stare at me. I'd long ago made peace with the fact that men found me very attractive. It was something that was a curse
SIX YEARS AGOThe next morning after Santos told me that he'd be travelling, I woke up feeling like shit. I felt lovesick, and already I was missing him.It was true we fought more than we talked, but I'd always felt a powerful emotion wherever he was concerned. I always let it out through antagonizing him, and he gave it right back. My aunt adopted Santos when his parents died in a fatal car accident. He was twelve then, and I was just six. He was so tall, and I was small. Even then, we never saw each other as family. Just as pests in each other's butts.Quickly, I got up from the bed to go shopping. I had to get my mind off his journey because we'd already said our goodbyes the day before.My mind went back to the way we said goodbye, and I felt my cheeks heating. I raised my hands to my face, smiling secretly as I went clothes shopping. Later, I hung out with my friends.But the hours seemed to stretch endlessly; time wasn't moving as fast as I wanted it. The thought of his depart
“It's been three hours, Jay. That girl is in a lot of pain right now,” Kain said, his eyes trailing behind his agitated friend.“I didn't know that she was going to be that stubborn. It's been three fucking hours!” Jason was angry. He had expected Rosy to start begging for it immediately when the drug entered her body—just like every woman that had ever taken the normal dosage of that drug. It angered him greatly that he had overdosed Rosy, and yet she refused to give in! She refused to beg!“Santos will have our heads if he ever finds out about this,” Kain said, the fear in his voice apparent.Jason was also terrified of what Santos would do, and that was why hadn’t made a move on the girl. Kidnapping Rosy had been a spur-of-the-moment decision that he didn't regret. He was just so angry that Rosy was making it difficult!“You still have that camera, right?” Jason directed at Marde who nodded his head.“You'll only take pictures when I'm the one fucking her and her face is glazed ove
THE PRESENT.I pushed the painful memories to the back of my mind, where I had buried them for the past six years. I walked to the wine cabinet and took out a bottle of red wine. I poured it into a wineglass, the night wrapping around me like a cloak. “You shouldn't think about the past,” I slowly admonished myself. The house was too quiet as I walked to the sofa and lowered myself onto it. My parents only knew that their daughter was kidnapped for two days and came back a mess. They didn't know the details, and they didn't know my kidnappers.Even after two days, and finally at the hospital, I still wanted more. My legs were rubber, my body a giant bruise, my vagina bruised from the inside and hurting like hell. Still, my body demanded more.Till today.At the hospital, after the doctors had done everything they could, one of them had looked at me and my mother with pity. “I know a lot of date rape drugs, and a lot of aphrodisiacs, but this drug in her system is one that hasn't bee
SANTOSBefore the end of the week, I concluded that Rosy was avoiding me. She was suddenly not there when I went to the office or when I came to her home. I figured she was avoiding me.Like I could ever allow her to do that. That woman has haunted my dreams so many times it had become natural—even when I tried everything I could to forget about her in Paris and move on.I mean, would you still have the hots for a woman that slept with your best friend the same day you travelled after professing her love in a loving way the night before?It was a loaded question, but it was a meaningful question, nonetheless.Till today, I still regret one thing. I should have taken what she offered me six years ago instead of trying to be a goddamn honorable man—and to a woman who didn’t deserve it at all.That little sex clip of her and my best friend—former best friend—that I watched nearly destroyed me years ago. There was no doubt Rosianna enjoyed every bit of it—and she was asking for more. I ha
For the first time in a long time, it was at the tip of my tongue to scream out my past. I wanted to scream to Santos that his best friend drugged me to the brink of death and raped me. I wanted to scream to him that Jason, Marde, and Kain raped me. I wanted to scream at him that his three friends betrayed him immediately after he stepped out of the States. I wanted to scream at him that I came face-to-face to death from that drug. I wanted to scream at him that I experienced the most excruciating pain of my life at the hands of his friends.I wanted to scream at him that I became the sex addict I was today because I endured that godforsaken drug for hours—long hours!—all because I didn’t want any other man’s hands on my body apart from his.As he held me up against the wall, smothering with anger and hurt, I wanted to scream all this at him, but in the end, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Santos would never believe me. Ever. I didn’t blame him. No man in his shoes would ever believe me.