sunscreen … and something that will make her wish she could look as sexy in a bikini as you do.”
I can’t respond to that, because his thumbs move higher, stroking my nipples.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I manage, my breaths turning to short pants as he increases pressure, joining his index fingers with his thumbs to pinch. The sensation shoots straight down between my legs and makes my knees weak.
He chuckles and palms one of my breasts, giving it a light squeeze. “What does it look like? I’m admiring what’s mine. Do you want me to stop?”
“If you want me dressed and ready to perform by lunchtime, you’re going to have to.”
Diego lets out an irritated huff but drops his hands. “Fine. But I’m not finished with you. If you’re a good girl today, I’ll pick up where I left off later.”
Oh fuck. A shiver shoots through me at the heavy promise in his words. I’ve been on fire for weeks. At this point, I’m ready to get this over with for the sake of my raging hormones as well as executing my plan to wrap Diego around my finger. The way he’s looking at me—like he’s two seconds away from mounting me—I realize I might be closer to that goal than I thought.
“Hmm,” I murmur, turning away to head for the bathroom. “Maybe I’ll allow that … but only if you are a good boy.”
“That fucking mouth,” he grumbles just before I close and lock the bathroom door, leaving him on the other side.
With a hand over my lips to muffle my giggles, I turn on the shower. Knowing I’ll have to spend my day entertaining Oleg and his family doesn’t make me excited to leave this room, but I can’t deny being happy at the thought of a swim. Diego has turned me into a well-trained puppy, ready to perform on command for treats. If it gets me closer to freedom, I won’t fight it … for the time being.
I take my time getting ready for the party, going to the dining room for breakfast with Marcella before returning to my room to change. Music blares through the house’s speaker system, growing louder once I make my way downstairs. The glass doors are open to the patio, and the smells off the grill flood my senses. Marcella, Jovan, and a handful of others are already in the pool, while a group of Diego’s men stand clustered around the outdoor bar—where a pretty woman in a white bikini hands out beers and mixes drinks. There are more women here than I’ve ever seen on the premises before, and after a few minutes of observation I realize these are the wives and girlfriends of Diego’s men. They seem comfortable with each other, talking and laughing—a few crowded around a massive wooden table, where they work to spread out the side dishes and condiments.
The laughter of children draws my attention to the little ones playing soccer near the fence for the first time. It never occurred to me that such a scene would be possible in a place like this, and around men like these. The same men who guard the house to keep me from escaping, who stood by with guns drawn to take me down when I threatened Diego, who come and go from this house at all hours to do the bidding of their boss. They’re husbands, lovers, and fathers today, wearing shorts and t-shirts that flaunt their tattoos and smiling as if the world outside the fence doesn’t live in terror of their very existence.
I spot Diego near the pool, with a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes and his shirt half-unbuttoned as he reclines in one of the loungers. He couldn’t be more different from the others, as if his status places him in a league of his own. I wonder if he feels he can’t be like them because he has to exude dominance and dignity, or if he’s always been so serious and buttoned-up.
“It doesn’t matter, you idiot,” I whisper to myself. Stupid thoughts like those will get me in trouble. I can’t afford to start seeing Diego as a human being with feelings and emotions and a past. He’s a monster with no soul, no humanity. If I can maintain that image of him, I can beat him at our game. I can free myself.
With that in mind, I make my way toward him, allowing my thin cover-up to fall open. I don’t