CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Palma, Mallorca
December 14
Unlike the last time he had regained consciousness in the March villa, Cam didn’t allow the lure of Egyptian cotton and Siberian goose down to pull him into complacency. Especially with his arms tethered to the bedposts and Gemini March standing at the foot of the bed in a black demi bra and lace thong. She was holding an equestrian whip.
Cam squinted at her. “Well, chica, you’ve officially ruined this fantasy for me.”
“Oh, come now, I bet when you close your eyes at night or touch yourself in the shower, this is pretty close to what you picture. That is, if my fan mail is anything to go by,” she replied.
“Untie me, Gemini. I can’t make your fantasies come true like this,” Cam ordered.
She climbed atop his body and straddled his narrow hips. “You certainly can’t make them come true treating me like some pathetic nobody and spending your time in my cousin's mines.” She lifted her arm and brought the crop down full force across his chest, immediately raising a welt.
Cam cried out. “What the fuck, puta? Stop!”
She moved further up his body, her full weight on his diaphragm shortening his breaths. “But I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going.” She struck him on the thigh. “I asked you on our first night together at the Villa who you were really looking for on Ibiza. Do you remember what you said?”
When Cam remained silent, she held the crop in both hands, bending it in threat.
He spoke through gritted teeth. “I said I was looking for you.”
She giggled. It was a girlish sound in complete antipathy to the sadistic dominatrix above him. “Yes, and you were. You just didn’t know it. But you will. Tonight, I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing. Tonight, the Boss of Fuck will work for me.”
“You’re psychotic.” Cam tugged on his bonds.
“You’d be surprised how appealing a little crazy can be to some men. Especially when it's wrapped in a pretty package.” She bent forward and licked his chest.
“Sorry, sweetheart. You’ve got the wrong guy. Nothing about this turns me on.” Even as he said it though, Cam felt his hard-on throbbing.
“Ah, but you see, that's what the injection was for. My cousin has access to all kinds of experimental concoctions. Sometimes I think drug smugglers have more advanced R & D than pharmaceutical companies.” She reached behind her and fisted his length.
Cam fought his body's unwilling response, but it was no use. The drug she had given him was making arousal inevitable. She scooted down his body and licked the tip of his growing erection. “Mmm, what a delicious treat. No condom, I think. Wouldn’t that be great fodder for the tabloids? A supermodel with a mysterious pregnancy? Imagine the wild speculation.”
“Get the fuck off me.” He bent his fingers toward his left wrist, unsuccessfully trying to reach the short-range distress beacon on his watch
She leaned back up. “You’re a big disappointment, Miguel. All I wanted was to enjoy a week or so with you between my legs.” She brought the crop down hard as she spoke. “All I wanted was that remarkable cock. I was even prepared to submit to your dominance. But instead, you run all over my island with some little piece of trash and ignore me. Well, there's no ignoring me now.”
“Leave Evan out of this,” he spat.
Gemini dismounted and stood next to the bed.
She wielded the whip, smacking Cam across the pelvis. Dots of blood appeared in a line. He grunted. She moved to the foot of the bed, leveling a blow to the bottoms of his feet. Cam cried out in pain, and her eyes lit. She walked forward, staring at his erection and pulled back the crop.
“Oh, trust me, Miguel. That little nobody has no place in our bedroom. Joseph tells me she's quite the daring treasure seeker. She could be buried under a rockslide in her precious caves for all I care.”
With a roar, Cam pulled his body forward, ripping the entire brass headboard from the bed. Gemini stepped back in shock as small metal rods separated from the frame and fell to the floor. He stood to face her, the headboard like a cross on his back. She smiled as she slowly backed into his closet, then turned and disappeared. Cam moved to follow, but the length of the brass prevented his passing through the doorway. He gripped the buckle of one tether with his teeth, freeing one wrist then the other. He tossed the headboard aside and entered the closet. It was empty. He felt around the walls looking for a latch or hidden panel but saw nothing. He flew out of the closet across the bedroom and through the terrace doors. He stumbled on the lawn and collapsed, the drugs still heavy in his system. Naked and aroused, he activated the distress beacon on his watch.
He made his way to the edge of the lawn overlooking the bay.
A vintage wooden Chris Craft race boat came shooting out of the stone and stucco boathouse, Gemini March at the helm. She turned and scanned the bluff. He saw the moment she spotted him. Then she blew him a kiss and sped out to sea.
Cam hobbled back to the bedroom, the pain from the whipping just now registering. He fell onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Thirty minutes later, his head had cleared just as a booted foot kicked in the bedroom door.
Tox and Chat entered in standard formation. Steady and Ren on their heels.
“It's clear. She's gone,” Cam muttered.