I kiss her hand, reminding her no matter how hard and dirty I fuck her, I always remember she’s a lady. “I’ll offer your excuse.”
“What will you say?”
It matters to her. She wouldn’t have asked otherwise.
“The truth,” I say. “That you’re tired.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
Cupping her breast, I steal a caress before returning to duty, to the people who drink and laugh in my house as if they’re my friends.
Lina
This is harder than I remember. My breathing is heavy, and my lungs burn as I work up a sweat on the treadmill. Phillip, or Phil as he asked me to call him, is at my side, counting down and uttering every clichéd encouragement in the book.
“Almost there. You’ve got this. You’re your only limit. No pain, no gain.”
If my collapsing lungs would let me speak, I’d tell him to shut up.
Damian is sitting on the sofa in the lounge area, reading a newspaper. He’s dressed in a suit and Italian shoes. A Rolex peaks out from under his shirtsleeve. He’s wearing black diamond cufflinks and his wedding ring. Despite the ring, the girls on the treadmills next to me stare. Drool is a better word. His attire screams money. In Harold’s circles, men would never be seen with the shoes, watch, and cufflinks. A good suit and shoes would’ve been enough. Anything more and you show the world you’re used to nothing. New money. Money is definitely rolling in for Damian.
Damian’s black diamonds are so much in demand the mine can’t keep up the supply. There’s no doubt Tony’s fine work with the necklace put the black diamonds on the map. From the minute the photo of the necklace went viral, the price of colored black diamonds shot up around the world. How does Harold feel about Damian’s success? People who come from Old Money don’t respect New Money. That’s what Harold used to say. What’s he saying now that he can’t afford more than a bachelor flat in one of the poorest suburbs of town? It’s no coincidence he ended up there, of all places. Damian sent him there when he couldn’t find an affordable place elsewhere. Zane told me. It’s Damian’s way of taking revenge by reversing the roles.
The brunette next to me steals another look at my husband. With his dark hair neatly combed and his face clean-shaven, he looks like a respectable businessman. He’s easily the most handsome man I’ve seen. Nicest smelling, too. He drips of maleness and virility. Resting an ankle on his knee, he seems absorbed in the article he’s reading. His casual posture may fool the girls into thinking they can gawk unnoticed, but he doesn’t deceive me. He’s aware of everything that happens around him.
When Phil touches my arm again, rambling about mind over muscles, Damian lifts his gaze to us. It’s brooding and dark enough to make Phil retract his hand. Inwardly, I roll my eyes. Damian insisted on accompanying me. He refused to let Russell bring me. Now I know why. It’s so he can wrestle Phil with killer looks.
When the hour-long training is done, I wipe my face on a towel and walk to where my husband sits innocently. He lowers the newspaper and watches me with so much sexual intent my cheeks heat.
“Do I have time for a shower?”
He’s already wasted an hour of his time, plus the time it took him to drive me here. I’m sure he has better things to do.
“I’ll wait,” he says.
I cock my hip a little, giving him attitude just because people surround us, and I can. “Is this going to be regular thing?”
He narrows his eyes. “You know how I feel about nothings and things. Express yourself correctly.”
“Are you going to sit here every time I work out?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Does it bother you?”
“I hate wasting your time.”
His gaze trails over me. “It’s no waste of time.”
“Why don’t you just work out at the same time?”
“If I work out, I won’t be able to watch you.”
He says it darkly, deeply, and my lower region contracts at his tone. I’m not sure if he means watching as in enjoying the view or as in making sure I don’t escape, but it’s wicked and hot and unfair, and it tightens my nipples.
Grabbing my towel, he flicks my butt. “Ten minutes. I’ll wait outside the showers.”
I bet he will.
I go ahead while he gathers his newspaper. A pretty girl passes me on the stairs.
“You’re so lucky,” she says with a sigh, looking back toward Damian.
If only she knew.
A part of me wants to agree, though, and that scares me. I can’t get attached to him. I can’t settle for spoiled captive. I’d rather be poor and free.
Damian
It takes me another day before I finally find the time to visit Willowbrook. It’s just over an hour’s drive southeast. The private institution is situated on an acre of land, a far enough distance from the nearest town to make running away improbable. Escaping would have to be on foot. No busses service the town that’s not even mentioned on a map, and Uber is non-existent out here.