t a
result of all the sex, dancing, and teetering in expensive
high-heeled shoes. I stagger out of bed and make my way
into the sumptuously appointed bathroom while going over
the events of the previous day in my mind. When I come
out, I don one of the over-fluffy bathrobes that hang on a
brass peg in the bathroom.
Leila—the girl who looks like me—that’s the most
startling image my brain conjures for conjecture, that and
her eerie presence in Christian’s bedroom. What did she
want? Me? Christian? To do what? And why the fuck has
want? Me? Christian? To do what? And why the fuck has
she wrecked my car?
Christian said I would ha一ve another Audi, like all his
submissives. The thought is unwelcome. Since I was so
generous with the money he ga一ve me, there’s not a lot I
can do.
I wander into the main room of the suite—no sign of
Christian. I finally locate him in the dining room. I take a
seat, grateful for the impressive breakfast laid before me.
Christian is reading the Sunday papers and drinking coffee,
his breakfast finished. He smiles at me.
“Eat up. You’re going to need your strength today,” he
teases.
“And why is that? You going to lock me in the
bedroom?” My inner goddess jerks awake suddenly, all
disheveled with a just-fucked look.
“Appealing as that idea is, I thought we’d go out
today. Get some fresh air.”
“Is it safe?” I ask innocently, trying and failing to keep
the irony from my voice.
Christian’s face falls, and his mouth presses in a line.
“Where we’re going, it is. And it’s not a joking matter,” he
adds sternly, narrowing his eyes.
I flush and stare down at my breakfast. I don’t feel like
being scolded after all the drama and such a late night. I
eat my breakfast in silence, feeling petulant.
My subconscious is shaking her head at me. Fifty
doesn’t joke about my safety—I should know this by
now. I want to roll my eyes at him, but I refrain.
Okay, I’m tired and testy. I had a long day yesterday
and not enough sleep. Why, oh why does he get to look as
fres
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