A guard
strolled into the room, the floor
squeaking with each of his steps.
Emmanuelle took notice of how he
eyed them. Heat rose to her chest,
traveling up her neck and face.
He had no
right to stare at them like they
were actors putting on a play. Or
maybe the guard stared in disgust
knowing what they’d done, what they
wanted to do.
It had all
started so innocently, this little
game that they had been playing.
Had it already been six months?
Every time she stared into his dark
eyes, she felt like she’d known him
for an eternity and more.
Perfection like him shouldn’t be
walking among the unwashed masses.
He needed to be immortalized,
admired, like the paintings and
other rare artifacts. Then she
needed to walk away.
When the guard
strolled out of the room, Helmut
spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t
have much time today.”
Her eyes asked
the question she couldn’t pose
verbally. Wednesday was their
special day. How could he have made
other plans? Her heart sank.
What the hell
had she expected? Like he’d called
it, this was a game. With any game,
there had to be rules. Maybe she
needed to enforce some. And what?
Lose him when he no longer wanted
her?
All he said
was, “Sorry.”
She squeezed
her eyes shut, determined not to let
a tear fall in front of him. He
hadn’t even left yet, and she
already missed him.
“These are the
risks we encounter when we—”
She held up
her hand. “Please. Don’t.”
Taking her
hand, he held it in both of his.
With his newly acquired tan, his
skin looked almost as dark as hers.
He kissed her knuckles. The warmth
of his lips caused an eruption of
molten flow from between her legs.
Every pore of
her body pulsed for him as though
his touch, his kiss, awakened new
cells. This man was not a stranger,
not to her or her body. He read her like a Gray’s Anatomy
textbook from cover to cover.
