Page 4 of Wanted
“I need you to do as told,” Jordan said at some point, taking me out of my trance. The show on the court was otherworldly. Balloons, glitter, and dancing transported me into a land of energy and passion. And it wasn’t sexual, although the girls were dressed very scarcely.
I rolled my eyes. “I have been doing so already, and I feel like shit about it. I don’t like to follow the rules. I like my freedom now that I’ve actually got it.”
I missed my family. I missed Mandy. I actually missed the Cross women and our banter. I avoided thinking of Katantia since I was sure the devil would appear once I spoke about it.
“The plan has phases. This is one of them. You’re about to embark on the next one. I’d advise you to stop offering your body in return for favors. It won’t benefit you from this point forward,” Jordan explained. Down in the arena, fans were walking around. More dancers took the stage, dancing to a thumping anthem that boomed through the walls.
“I don’t have any money. I don’t have an ID because you took it from me. So what else am I supposed to offer in a negotiation?” I asked.
“You can’t negotiate with Fylox.”
“Who?”
The game began again, and Jordan ignored me for another endless quarter. When it was time for the final quarter, the door to the cubicle opened. I couldn’t hear or sense whoever it was at the door. It didn’t seem like it was a breathing human being.
“It’s time,” Jordan uttered. I cocked my head to the side to glare at him. “Get up and follow him. We’ll see each other again soon.”
I was about to protest when he raised his hand to silence me. “Remember what I told you. His place is spotless. You’ll like it there.”
I sighed. I took one last glance at the court, and then I stood up from my seat, straightening the horrendous tracksuit that covered my body. It made me look even taller than I actually was. I stepped away from the seats, making my way to the exit.
When I lifted my head to acknowledge the new guy, I was startled.
I saw him.
KAMILA
If he stood amongst ten men, he’d be the one who’d capture the most attention. His hair was bright, and his eyes looked like alcohol. I was already addicted to his brand of cognac. His cheekbones were accentuated, making him pretty like a model, but he wasn’t pretty in that sense. There was something dark in his aura, something I was very much familiar with from Katantia.
He was taller than me, a breath of fresh air. His shoulders were broad. I felt the desperate desire to bite down on those muscles he was sporting underneath his clothes. The man had come in sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt, all in raven black.
I wished he’d look at me and tell me something dirty. I craved to hear his voice. Would it be rough or gentle? Would he wound me or caress me? I had lost my train of thought.
He might have been a breath of fresh air, but up close, he was rough like a stone. Staring wasn’t polite. Mom had taught me when I was young. I rarely ever stared at anything in Katantia because everything I wanted, I usually got.
I shook myself out of my trance, and I stood there proudly. I was the Katantian Princess. It didn’t mean much out here, but I had grown up knowing better than to become all buttery over a strange man.
“Take care of her. You know how important she is,” Jordan called from the other side of the room.
The man who stood in front of me didn’t respond. He turned around, walking out. Panicking, I glanced at Jordan, but he acted as if I wasn’t in the room anymore. So, I followed the stranger.
We left the arena in a similar fashion as I had entered it. Lots of ID checks. He had a laminated card just like Jordan. Those were the perks of having team connections. Eventually, he led me to a different parking lot. His car was bigger and shinier than Jordan’s. I recognized it from a fair some car manufacturers had organized in Katantia. We had decided against spacious cars like these because they were too wasteful. They were named after lobsters or a wild big cat animal. I couldn’t recall which.
After living a life of constant sex, I was growing fuzzy. Three days or more had passed without me ending up with spread legs underneath a man. Somehow, that made me smile because it was an accomplishment, but it also made me unbelievably horny.
He opened the backdoor for me, not allowing me to sit in the front with him. When he took his seat, I put on my seat belt, observing the back of his body. Upon closer inspection, I detected faint scars on the back of his neck that made me shudder.
He didn’t seem approachable.
My veins were on fire. I blinked. Maybe this was a dream. But the scars were still there, and they were scarier than before.
The world had stopped turning. Honest and brutal, my body went into overload. I had a thing for mean men. Back home, I had been fucking the king for years. The king was nothing to play with.
I had to calm my breathing, unable to help my panting. I didn’t understand why his scars triggered me. I had never been visibly hurt by my father. My body was a canvas to show off to the public. I wasn’t allowed to have visible scars.
What had happened to this man?
The world was spinning in my head. He drove around for ages, but he didn’t leave the city. We were headed for the crowded city center. To calm me down, I studied the people who reminded me of Mandy, closed off and in their own world. Women walked alone, strutting across the sidewalks to get wherever they needed to go. They weren’t collared or marked. There were rings on some of their fingers, but that wasn’t their entire life. They didn’t live for sex like we did in Katantia. People here were concerned with the concept of time, money, and how to walk through a crowd without being noticed. In Katantia, everyone wanted to be noticed.
