Page 13 of Gamble with Me
I took a long, hot shower, the tears running freely down my face when I tried to wash away every memory of that dreadful moment. I’d never been so scared and humiliated. I felt weak and helpless, and I hated it with everything with me that I couldn't find the strength to fight. Chester put me in the position of a submissive, obedient wife who hid her opinions and beliefs behind a smile, and it was destroying my confidence.
Ten days had gone by since the incident when he almost choked the living daylights out of me, and since then, I felt exposed and vulnerable, unable to find the lost balance. It was the worst feeling ever.
With the weight of my pathetic situation on my shoulders pushing me to my knees, I entered the bedroom and found Chester sitting on our bed.
"Tell me what I can do so you can forgive me," he said, connecting his eyes with mine.
"I'm not mad at you," I whispered. For some strange reason, I felt embarrassed and guilty for not being able to move on. He regretted what he'd done and apologized, but I was still stuck in that memory.
"You're disappointed by me, tired of my actions, or," he stood up and slowly walked toward me, and I nervously crossed my arms over my chest in a desperate attempt to prevent him from invading my personal space, "are you scared of me?"
"That's not it, Chester," I sighed, tired of all of this. "I need time to get past it."
"I hear you, baby doll." He nodded, taking me by my arms. He gently stroked my exposed skin with his thumbs through my thin nightgown. "But please, give me a chance to prove that I care for you."
"I don't think it's a good idea," I objected weakly, trying to push him away, but he curled his arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest.
"I love you, Valeria," he whispered, kissing my brow tenderly. My heart skipped a beat, and fear overcame me for a moment. I didn't want to lie to him about something so important, but I couldn’t say it back. "You have no idea how sorry I am for hurting you."
I gulped, gathering my thoughts into some meaningful words, yet he continued before I said anything.
"I promise everything will be okay," he hushed, stroking my back softly. "We will be okay."
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. Deep in my heart, I knew it would never happen. I couldn't return to where we were before he started gambling and almost killed me. I just didn't want to provoke him while trying to solve my problems with money and a new job. But I was already aware that pretending to give him a chance would be the hardest thing I’d ever done.
-8-
Zyon
Jab, cross, knee—my favorite combination. My opponent fell to the ground, blood oozing from his nose. He was new and stupid enough to accept the challenge. None of my bodyguards would willingly stand against me in the ring.
I was a former kickbox champion, and even though I hadn’t competed for more than ten years, I still kept myself in great shape. It wasn't always easy because of a few injuries, and I wasn't the youngest either, but it was a form of relaxation. It always directed my mind elsewhere.
"Not bad for a forty-year-old, boss," Jamal teased, grinning at me from the sideline.
"Thirty-nine," I corrected him with a wink, and he chuckled. I wasn't sensitive about my age, but I still held onto that last month till our birthday. Dorian was already working on a pompous party, and I was rolling my eyes with Malin every time he brought up the topic. I didn't need a reminder I was getting old, and Malin would rather eat live rats than speak on stage.
"Okay, okay." He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, grinning like an idiot. He always found it funny to watch as I beat the crap out of someone. "You have a meeting in an hour. Are you finished with him?"
I looked down at the big man spitting blood on the floor. I would gladly have another round with him, but he had to work tomorrow, so I nodded and let him be. We were short of staff.
I took a quick cold shower, enjoying the chills that it gave me. My mind instantly drifted to the particular woman constantly smiling seductively at me from the edge of my subconscious, and my dick reacted immediately.
I groaned in frustration, slamming the wall hard with my open palm, but it was useless. If I went out like this, my hard cock would make a tent from my pants, and I would look like a horny teenager while meeting a contractor. That woman vexed me!
Wrapping my palm around my thick length, I closed my eyes and released a deep breath. Not even the ice-cold water chased away the fantasy repeating in my head. I couldn't shake it off. I believed not seeing her for two weeks would help me, but it was worse than ever. I drove past her apartment a few times, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, yet I had no luck. And then, I decided to ignore that needy feeling pushing me toward her and drown myself in work.
But it was pointless. No matter what I did, my thoughts were always about her. At night, I dreamed about her. During the day, I fantasized about her full lips and big eyes. I was obsessed and didn't know how to deal with it; however, the soft voice in my head spoke to me in a devilish whisper more often every day that I had to have her. And I really wasn't sure for how long I would be able to resist the temptation of kidnapping her and making her mine.
A deep moan of pure pleasure left my mouth, and I quickened my movements. It was such a vivid fantasy. She was tied to the chair with a blindfold covering her eyes, not knowing who she was with or where she was. She was trembling in fear or maybe excitement, and I started to tease her with gentle touches. In the beginning, I only traveled with my fingers down her naked arm, or I softly brushed my lips against her cheeks, preparing us both for the wilder part of this adventure.
However, my over-sensitive body didn't need more stimulation, and I climaxed after only two minutes of picturing the woman of my dreams. I was breathing hard, groaning silently into my fist, and trying to find a way to ease the ache in my chest. I craved her with my entire being, and it was just a matter of time until I would lose my mind and do something stupid.
It would be tough to explain why I abducted her and kept her in my Manhattan loft against her will.
I smiled at myself at my foolishness and walked out of the bathroom, ready for the more tedious part of my day. I listened to the proposals, opinions, statements, and arguments between my lawyers and the company managers I picked for the project, but my head often zoned out. My people were capable of taking care of it without my presence. I was there only to sign the final contract. But as I watched men before me who were barking at each other like rabid dogs, I realized it wouldn't happen today.
"Mr. Zhumagulov," one of my lawyers addressed me, and I lifted an eyebrow at him. "They're asking for too much money. Another company is offering us a twenty percent lower price for the same job."
