Page 36 of His to Bedevil
He frowns again. “I’m sorry, my love. But not today. I promise we will venture out together soon.”
Sighing, I wrap my arms around my legs and glance out at the terrace. “I like books, music, and movies. So, if you could provide me with any of those, I guess I can entertain myself for the day.” What I much prefer is to be outdoors doing something active. I am not a couch potato.
“What kind?”
I shrug. “I’m not picky. I can read pretty much anything, I love all music, and I’m easily pleased when it comes to movies.”
“Okay, my love. I’ll have a few things brought up for you. In the meantime, you can take a nice shower, or I can draw you a bath before I go.”
I look over at him and squint my eyes.Draw me a bath? Who is this man?I have no choice but to be pleasant and polite because he has Matches to threaten me with, but why is he so… sweet? I really cannot figure out his real agenda here. He waits on me hand and foot and talks to me in a soothing tone, while he barks orders at everyone else around me and kills people without hesitation.
“I’ll just take a shower.”
He nods his head and stands to his feet. “I’ll also have breakfast sent up to you. You can eat out on the terrace if you’d like.”
I nod my head in thanks, but he just stands there hovering. Like he wants to say something else, or maybe he doesn’t want to leave. He probably thinks I’ll try and escape now that he’ll be gone for hours. But not without Matches.
Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He straightens back up and gleams. “Be good, my love.” I narrow my eyes at him, then he turns and leaves.
Getting out of bed, I stretch my arms up and yawn. First shower, then food, then try to find my bearings. I think after tomorrow I can start working out again. I don’t want to exert my energy today. I’m still underweight, and it’s been over a month since I’ve had any real physical activity. I have a lot to make up for.
Walking into the lavish bathroom, I take a quick look around. It’s all Spanish style with beautiful textured tiling and rounded archways. My toiletries are already set out around the sink, and when I open up the cabinet underneath, I find more of my stuff. Huh, I wonder if Alejo himself unpacked them or if someone was in here doing it while I was sleeping.
Turning toward the huge walk-in shower, I balk in astonishment. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Instead of a glass enclosure, two half walls covered in tiles with colorful designs part for an entryway. I take Alejo’s T-shirt off and enter. The tiles that decorate the half walls also decorate the floor and the walls. Gasping in awe, I walk forward over to the window that looks out to the ocean. The window has the same shape as the Spanish archways, rounded at the top, elongated, and straight at the bottom.
Staring out at the crystal blue waters of the ocean, I cannot wait to see it up close. I might not ever get the chance to, though, because as soon as Alejo lets his guard down, I’ll be planning my escape. And once I escape from here with Matches, I’ll never be allowed to step foot in Cuba again. Or Miami, for that matter.
Spinning around, I see that there’s a showerhead right above me, so I can stand under the water like it’s rainwater and gaze out at the ocean. There are also several other showerheads coming out of the walls. I walk over to the vertical line of nozzles and start messing with them. It takes way too long to figure out which one controls the one over by the window, but I finally get it right. Hoping I got the right temperature, I strut over to the water. On my way, I look up at the cathedral ceiling and up through two skylights above me. This shower is like a wet dream. Literally.
Practically ripping the hair tie out of my hair, I toss it and stand under the water. I let out a moan as I crane my neck back and close my eyes.Wow, this is nice.I’m not completely unaccustomed to luxury. I only have my tiny apartment back in Miami for appearances. But I have a lot of money to my name, stashed all over, and I’ve also stolen from a couple of very rich men. Men I had to get close to in order to do it, so I’ve seen luxury before and I’ve experienced it. But nothing like this. This is beautiful, not ostentatious or tacky.
I lather up my hair with the shampoo that was conveniently set out for me, and I gaze out the window. Nothing beats this view right now. The only thing I could think of that would be better would be to feel a pair of large and strong hands roaming my wet body. Bending me over so that my hands rest on the ledge of the window, and I’d feel the warm water splashing off of his body onto mine as he thrusts in and out of me.
My eyes snap open as I’m jolted out of the sick little fantasy I had going on in my head. When did I even close my eyes, and why the hell was my hand slithering down my body, heading for my heated core? I mean, it wasn’t like it was Alejandro’s hands I was imagining or who I was thinking about fucking me from behind. It could have been any man. Any sexy man with large bronzed hands and a large cock.
Trying to focus on something else,anythingelse, I finish washing and rinsing my hair and grab some soap. But now, all I can think about is Alejo’s hands soaping me up like he usually does. Only this time he doesn’t completely hold back. He finally lets himself lose control as he touches me between my legs. He starts out just running his fingers through my wet folds slowly back and forth. Then he stops at the top of my clit and begins stroking me, making circles, applying the perfect pressure. This is all just a fantasy, it doesn’t mean anything. There’s nothing wrong with getting myself off right now. Using my hand, I take the fantasy further and plunge two fingers inside myself and begin thrusting them in and out. With my free hand, I cup my swelling breast and squeeze. Alejo’s hand would cover my whole breast, and he would probably flick my nipple, or maybe he would pinch it. Both, he would do both. Between the fact that I’ve only gotten off once in over a month and picturing Alejo toying with my body like he owns it, it doesn’t take long for me to get off. And as soon as I do, a cold sensation of guilt washes over me. The only thing I should be imagining doing to Alejo is escaping him. Not getting off with him.
Fuck, I need to get my head on straight. Alejo said he likes the fighter in me, and I happen to as well. But where the hell is she?
Finishing up in the bathroom, I head out and into the large walk-in closet, my body wrapped in a soft towel and my hair wrapped in another one on top of my head. My new clothing is all nicely put away, and I wonder again about who did it.
Since I’ll be stuck in this room all day, there’s no sense in dressing up. Although, I remember now that Señora Martinez will be visiting me for lunch later on. So, maybe I should put a little effort into my appearance. If I can get on her good side, maybe she can help me.
My mother practically ran the empire right by my father’s side. She knows exactly who I am and what I do.
Alejo said those words to me just yesterday. If that’s true, then the hopes of her being on my side are pointless. If anything, she could make my stay here bearable or unbearable. I can see that Alejo is a mama’s boy. He’ll listen to whatever she has to say, so it’s best that I kiss her ass and make nice.
I decide on a casual maxi dress and a pair of wedges. When I’m by myself, I hate wearing shoes, but the extra few inches help me feel more powerful around other people. Before getting dressed and ready for the day, I opt for eating the breakfast that was delivered when I was in the shower. Grabbing the bowl of fresh fruit and my latte, I let the towel drop from my head and head out to the terrace.
It’s beautiful and sunny out. The weather isn’t too far off from Miami’s. Hot and humid with the ocean breeze. If only I were able to enjoy this place while I’m still here. I can’t get too comfortable though.
Less than an hour later, I’m dressed, my hair is dry and worn in loose waves, and I even put on a little makeup. I have no idea when she’ll be here, and from the looks of her last night, she’s the type to always be dressed to impress. She reminded me of Catherine Zeta-Jones, only with darker skin.
Grabbing one of the books from the pile that was brought up, I sit in one of the nice sitting chairs and crack it open. I try reading, but it’s like I have to reread every single page for the words to even register. I cannot concentrate on it right now. My mind is an absolute mess, and I’m anxious nonstop.
Giving up, I close the book and stand.I’m so fucking bored.I like the outdoors and adventure. Festivals and concerts. Surfing and snowboarding. Sure, I like reading… on a beach or a plane or a train or a bus. Sure, I like watching movies, when I’m cuddled up in bed with a glass of wine after a long day. And I enjoy music when I’m cooking or working out. Being locked up like this is driving me nuts. I’m going to start climbing the walls soon if Alejo doesn’t let me out of this house, and we’re only on day one here.
I’m pacing the floors like a caged lion, and I’m only getting more agitated by the second. How dare he? I’m not a damsel in distress, a princess locked away inside a tower. I’m a fucking badass independent woman. I’m a lone wolf who doesn’t live by anyone’s rules and definitely not by the law. I thrive in danger and total freedom. He’s put this lioness in a cage, and now that I’m not still desperately trying to recover from almost dying, I’m livid. My spirit finally coming alive.
