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Lucia

Iremember when my parents took me to Portugal the summer of my twelfth birthday. Tommy and I disturbed a beehive on our first day.

It took seconds before we were swarmed and running through the field back to the cottage my grandparents lived in.

The stings to my body felt like little blasts of electricity.

That’s how I feel now, like every nerve in my body is exploding, and I know from the buzz that my skin has turned as crimson as my hair.

Take my clothes off.

For him.

This is what I signed up for.

This is what I must do, and the last thing left that I can do. Unless he plans to bend me over his desk and fuck me right here.

Then I would have given everything, and if he turns me down…

I don’t want to think about what would happen if I fail here.

Seeing the request as the least of my worries, I lift one trembling hand and push my blazer down my shoulders. We both watch it float to the marble floor, looking like a blob of black against the pristine white background.

Avoiding his gaze, I pull the zipper down the back of my dress and step out of it, stripping down to my underwear.

It’s then my awareness returns, and I think of the last time I stood naked in front of a man. It was James, a little over three years ago.

The same night I met his wife and two kids and found out our six months relationship was all a lie.

I block everything out, including that disastrous night, and unhook the clasp of my bra. My breasts quiver as they fall forward, and I’m sure he can tell from the state of my tight, taut nipples that I’m aroused.

I slide my panties down last and step out of my shoes.

It’s only when my bare feet touch the ground that I meet his eyes again and find him staring at me eye to eye.

Embarrassed, I look away, but he catches my face and guides my gaze back to his.

“Eyes here, Bonita.”

Bonita. Portuguese for beautiful. And since he’s speaking that language, I’m assuming he wants to make a point.

“Look… at me.” He motions from my eyes to his.

He’s too close for comfort, and I’m naked, trembling with trepidation.

He drops his hand to his side and takes a small step backward. His magnetic eyes are, however, still trained on me.

“Now that you’re stripped bare and it clearly looks like you’re keen to get this job, I want you to really tell me why you want it. I want the truth. Don’t bullshit me with your love for working with children. I believe you enthusiasm, but that’s not what sent you to Brazil. A woman like you doesn’t agree to sell her body because she wants to.”

No, they don’t.

I blink several times, hoping the words will come, but they don’t.

His eyes bore into mine, continuing to strip me, shedding the layers of my soul to get to the truth.

The truth. What truth can I tell here? Nobody prepared me for this part. No one told me what I should say when he was obviously going to ask me the award-winning question.

Even with my stint in rehab, and if Alejandro had managed to get past whatever Dad did to conceal my tainted past, a woman like me would never apply for a job like this.


Tags: Faith Summers Dark Syndicate Dark