Page 151 of Roulette: The Madam

Clack.

I strutted up to the door of Matías’ home. The sun had kissed the earth’s core, leaving behind hues of purple and orange that were unmatched. I could soak under the sun’s setting for the entire time I was here and I wouldn’t complain.

God, that’s gorgeous.

With his arms stretched wide, Matías invited me into his home and embraced me. He was dressed in a silk shirt that clung to his abdominal muscles and biceps. The linen pants were unable to conceal the rod between his thighs. Freshly trimmed hair added to the list of reasons I found him attractive.

“How was your flight, Madam?” He asked as I planted my cheek against his chest.

Unlike most of the Colombian men I encountered, he was slim and long like a tree.

“It was good.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I have. On the flight.” I yawned. “My apologies.”

“No need to apologize, love.”

“Water? A drink? Is there anything I can get you?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“Then, a bed it is.” He chuckled. “You could use the rest.”

I didn’t protest. He extended his arm, requesting my hand. I interlaced it in his, immediately noticing the difference between his and Israel’s.

Roulette. I chastised, trying my hardest to toss thoughts of Israel out of my head. He hadn’t returned my call and neither had he contacted me all day.

Israel isn’t thinking about Roulette, so why is Roulette thinking about Israel?I asked.

Instead of picking my brain, I flushed the thoughts of him that were forming as I compared him to the man before me.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

I climbed the stairs behind Matías. It wasn’t very long before we reached his bedroom. Mainly because our long legs conquered a large amount of square footage in a very small amount of time. As we entered his bedroom, he allowed me to take the lead.

Red roses covered the floor. The furniture. The bed. The window seal. A red silk nightie rested on top of the florals. A masseuse waited near the french doors that were slightly ajar. With a smile on her face, she stood on the balcony, anticipating my arrival.

I turned to admire the man behind me. He was swifter, already admiring me when I made the half-circle. His smile was darling. So were the dimples it formed. His hands were folded in front of him, concealing the bulge I knew was there.

His intentions were clear. He wanted me in his home, in his bed, but on my terms. If it was rest I needed, he’d see to it that I got exactly that. I appreciated his generosity.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, mi amor.”

He nodded toward the balcony. I didn’t take another step before I undressed. The romper slid off with ease. In the nude, I handed him my threads.

Click.

Clack.

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