All of which I also have access to if I want.
Climbing in, I’m glad to feel the water lapping around me. I decide to swim a couple of lengths, then I’ll get out and head back to the guesthouse.
As I start to swim, I think about what Clarissa said. It’s too far fetched. What evidence do they even have? They probably just see a man who isn’t interested in playing the field, who could clearly buy his way into a lot of girls’ pants anytime he liked and chooses not to, and make up stories in their own heads. Two and two to make five.
Anyway, he’s way too hot for someone like me. If he wanted to play with someone, surely it would be more fun to go after a model or an Instagram influencer? Someone who has further to fall. Where’s the fun in hurting someone who’s lived her whole life at rock bottom?
Climbing out of the pool after five lengths, I collapse into the lounger, closing my eyes. It’s been years since I’ve swum like that but I love the water. Perhaps if I stay here, in the guesthouse, I can swim a few times a week.
Stay here. Away from my own place. In the guesthouse.
No.
I’m not going to let my thoughts go down that road. He has me staying in the guesthouse because I needed somewhere, not because he wanted to separate me from everything I know.
“What the fuck? Safi?”
I open my eyes to find him standing right there. Roman Schalk, a tailored suit flapping in the light breeze. The outline of his cock is clearly visible beneath his pants, as it always seems to be when he’s around me.
He looks fearsome, pain stretching his features as his chest rises and falls with each breath, fury in his pale blue eyes as he glances around. “What are you doing here?” he demands.
“You said I could—”
“What are you doing here?” he says again, and suddenly all my thoughts are thrown into turmoil. He sounds angry with me. Is this how it starts? Is he attempting to gaslight me? Make me doubt myself so I’m totally reliant on him?
“You…you said I could use the pool anytime I wanted.” I push out my chin, trying to sound sure, but I’m not. I don’t like that he’s upset. Am I that far gone already?
“I didn’t know you’d… Fuck, that bikini hardly covers anything!” He glances around, then turns his head up above me. When I follow his gaze, I see the landscaper trimming the top of the hedge. “You!” Roman growls, and the landscaper almost falls, his eyes wide as he flails, only catching hold of the ladder just in time. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Sir, I haven’t finished—”
Roman’s hands are balled into fists at his sides. “Don’t even glance at her, motherfucker, or I’ll have your eyes cut out. Get your tools and go home. And tell the others to do the same. You’ll be paid for the whole day but if you’re not out of here in five fucking minutes, I swear to God—”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
Roman stares at him, watching him clamber and clunk down the ladder with a look of fire, like he’s half considering chasing him down right now. My mouth falls open, but I’m not even sure of the words to say. My nipples are like pebbles, my kegels battling against the rush that’s threatening to overtake me. Why am I having this reaction to him going crazy at any male in my vicinity?
I should be furious, right?
I should be walking right out of here.
Instead, I’m sitting here almost in a puddle of my own making, waiting for him to claim me as his prize.
“What…what are you going to do?”
He turns his gaze on me, and I swear I see blue flames dancing behind his eyes. “That… You call that a swimming costume? Anyone could see you out here.”
“There’s nobody else here. That poor man. He wasn’t looking.”
“You’re in full view of the casino windows. Anyone could be looking.” He turns around, staring at the wall of windows as if expecting a whole audience.
Like people ever look at me that way… I’m nothing special. The way he’s going on, you’d think I had to fight men off with a stick.
“Cover yourself up.” He steps my way, picks up my towel and throws it roughly over me.
I have no idea what I’m doing when I kick the towel straight off. I guess I want to see how far I can push him. My gaze falls on the enormous shadow cast by his cock, and this time I don’t drag it away. I want him to see where I’m looking. I even lick my lips a little to drive the point home.
“What’s wrong with a bit of skin?” I tease. “Don’t you like it?”