Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (3 page)

BOOK: Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)
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This time he would be more selective. He was in the mood for something more satisfying and meaningful. He wanted a sub to give him everything they possessed. Nothing of monetary value. He had enough money of his own. No, he wanted their complete submission. He wanted their mind, their body, and especially their soul. Now all he had to do was find the right woman. Finding a woman who could give him those things would be difficult, but not impossible. Max tossed some more nuts into his mouth. That way the prize would be much sweeter.

As he looked around the club he realized how much he missed his friend Kirk. This was the first time he’d visited the club since Kirk had died. It had been a stunning revelation when Ella had revealed the bruises. Almost two weeks after he’d died, they were still visible as a horrible, yellow-green color marking her slender neck. He’d been completely unaware that his best friend had been so ill, and it made him feel guilty as hell. At the time he’d known Kirk was agitated, and had put it down to Ella having an affair. Now he knew different. Kirk had been suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. Most likely brought on by his time in Afghanistan. Fuck, he must have seen some terrible sights out there, things that no man should see. He’d needed help, and he’d let him down in his hour of need.

Max swallowed the shot of rye whiskey in one gulp, and then indicated to the barman that he wanted a refill. If only he’d read the signs, instead of reacting badly toward Ella, he could have helped Kirk.

As Sam refilled his glass, he stared into the full-length mirror behind the bar. It was a good way of scanning the room without being too obvious. Some familiar faces came into view, and then one in particular. He recognized the ponytail and long, slender arms. He paid the tab and turned in her direction.

Ella Williams seemed to be part of a threesome and stood next to a couple he recognized. He’d known Bill and Sara for some eight years. They weren’t exactly close friends, but they knew each other by name. He hadn’t thought Ella would be interested in fetishism, let alone take part in a threesome.

His gaze swept from her calf leather boots, up her long legs to her short leather miniskirt. She certainly looked part of the scene. Max licked his lips as he focused on her breasts held tightly in a leather bra, showing her womanly cleavage to perfection. He’d never seen her look so fucking sexy. When she was married to his best buddy, he never allowed himself to dwell on her beauty. A smile formed on his mouth. Was Ella into BDSM after all, or was this just a curiosity visit? He hadn’t seen her since his secretary, Becky, had driven her home. Quite frankly, he couldn’t face her. Guilt overwhelmed him. What exactly would he say to her?

Max felt himself stiffen when another guy he recognized joined them. So it wasn’t a threesome after all. But that was little consolation. Just what the hell was she doing with Kevin McCreedy? He was well known for taking things too far. Many of his subs had left mid-contract, thoroughly disillusioned by his attitude. Word around the fetish scene spread quickly. Apparently, he was well known for being a selfish prick who took but never gave. That was the thing about BDSM. If all you gave was punishment, then you could never win a sub’s complete trust. Control a slave with both pleasure and pain and you could have them eating out of your hand, day and night.

Ella’s group moved over to the bar. He took immense pleasure when her eyes widened as she recognized him. She seemed slightly agitated and on edge. He figured she didn’t want him to know she frequented places like this.

She cleared her throat. “Hi, Max.”

He leaned back against the bar as she stood waiting for Kevin McCreedy to order her drink. He smiled and raised a brow as he took in her sexy clothes once more.

“I didn’t know you were part of the scene, Ella.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Max.” Her clipped answer caught him a little off guard, and he wondered if she was still pissed because he hadn’t been in contact with her.

“I meant to call you,” he offered, popping a peanut into his mouth.

“That’s, okay. There’s no reason to now. Your best friend’s not here anymore.”

Her flippant remark made him feel even guiltier. “It’s taken me a while to come to terms with everything, Ella.”

“Poor, Max. I sure hope you can cope.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. He watched her turn away and accept the large glass of white wine handed to her by Kevin. She gave him a weak smile and said, “Guess I’ll see you around,” and with that began moving away.

Something didn’t sit right with Max. Just what was Ella doing here anyway? And why was she so hostile, especially as so much time had passed since her husband’s death. Perhaps he was just losing his touch with the opposite sex. Fuck.

You’re losing your touch all right, buddy. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and act on instinct. It’s what you do best.

He watched her walk from the bar before acting on impulse. He caught up with the group. “Excuse me. I’m just gonna borrow Ella for a minute. I’ll bring her right back.” He took the glass of wine from Ella’s grasp and placed it on a nearby table.

“You better, Max. I’ve spent a long time setting up this blind date,” Sara called after them.

“Fucking hell, we’ve only just got here.” Kevin sounded pissed by the unwanted intrusion.

He began leading Ella across the room. She didn’t resist until he’d almost gotten her to the door. “What do you think you’re doing, Max? I’m not one of your subs. Take your fucking hands off me.”

“You’re coming with me, Ella.” He took hold of her arm more firmly, and pulled her into the corridor.

“Let me get back to my friends, Max, please.”

She went to move away, but he braced his hands against the wall, blocking her path, corralling her in place. In frustration she leaned back, and sighed loudly.

“Believe me, Ella, those people are not your friends. How well do you know them?”

“Not very well, but I needed some company. Is that okay with you?” she added bitterly.

“I see.” Max placed two fingers under her chin, and tilted her head back. Ella closed her eyes as he angled her face to the overhead light. “Look at me,” he ordered.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

When she opened her eyes he had the distinct impression that Ella was scared. But of what? The club scene, or something else?

“What do you want from me, Max? How I live my life is none of your fucking business. I don’t hear from you from one month to the next. So butt out, and stop interfering, mister.”

“I’m making it my business now. Kirk wouldn’t thank me for turning a blind eye.”

Ella laughed hysterically. “The next time I see him, I’ll tell him you’re on the case.” She must have seen his brows draw together, because she added, “Oh, yes, I see him everywhere, Max. In the bedroom, the shopping mall, even when I take a shower. He’s there all right. Only, it’s not the Kirk I want to remember. His head’s half-blown away. So forgive me if I want to escape this shitty world for a while. I’m entitled to.”

At that moment Max felt terrible. Guilt cut like a knife through his body. He saw the anguish in her eyes. He’d ignored Ella because he’d been grieving himself. He’d been selfish. It was time to make amends.

“Do you have any idea what you’re letting yourself in for, mixing with that prick, McCreedy? He won’t make you feel any better.” He stared down at her face. Her eyes were closed, the dark lashes brushing against her cheeks. Her head tilted to one side. Her glossy red lips parted. Fuck, she was in a terrible emotional state.

“Max, don’t lecture me, please.” She twisted back against the wall. It was difficult to ignore the soft swell of her breasts, held delectably in the tight leather top, or the way her long, smooth legs crossed at the ankles. She continued speaking. “Sara tells me that kinky sex is out of this world. Quite frankly, I could do with some of that.”

“You won’t find it with Kevin McCreedy, understand.” Max tilted her head back forcing her to look at him. He figured she didn’t even like the guy.

“Leave me alone, Max. You’ve kept your distance up until now, and I’m quite happy about it.”

Guilt coursed through his veins once more. If he’d concentrated a little less on his own grief, then maybe his best friend’s wife wouldn’t be in this state. It was time to atone for his selfishness. “Right, you’re coming with me.” He took hold of her arm and began leading her from the club.

“What about Kevin?”

“Fuck Kevin. I never did like the guy. It’s lucky for you I was here tonight.”

Chapter Four

Ella stumbled as Max led her through the double doors and down the short flight of steps outside. She felt in a daze, but even through the mental fog, she saw the determined look pinned on his face. Truth be known, she loved him taking control. Someone needed to. She felt like she was drowning with grief and guilt. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she needed him. These last few months had been a nightmare, and Max had been noticeable by his absence.

She was grateful when she felt his arm link though hers as they walked across the parking lot.

Suddenly a male voice called out, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Ella? You’re with me tonight.”

Max turned, abruptly. She felt his body tense with adrenaline. He squared up to Kevin as he walked menacingly over to them.

“I’m taking her home.” Max pushed Ella behind him, protecting her. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course I fucking do, Max. Ella is with me.”

“Ella doesn’t need someone like you. Do you understand? She needs protecting, and we all know that’s not your scene. If I catch you anywhere near her in future, I’ll lay you horizontal.”

“Yeah?” Kevin moved closer, his face distorted by anger. “Don’t make threats, dick brain, unless you’re prepared to back them up. You don’t intimidate me, Max.”

“It’s not a threat, McCreedy. It’s a promise. You stay away from Ella, or so help me, I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands.”

The way Max spoke sent shivers down her spine. She felt the menace in his tone—his Sicilian bloodline surging to the fore. She hoped Kevin would take his threat seriously. Max clenched his hands into fists. Standing protected behind him, she felt his body pulse with adrenal energy. Any moment now and the punches would start flying.

Kevin must have realized that Max wasn’t going to back down, and thought better about taking on his stronger, taller, and more muscular opponent. “Fuck you, asshole. The bitch is half crazed anyway.” Kevin turned on his heels, and began walking back to the club. “Fuck you, Max.”

Max turned to her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m glad he’s gone. I didn’t like him.”

He stroked her cheek. His gaze was unsettling as he studied her. “What am I gonna do with you?” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She fit so snugly under his chin. So safe held protected against his chest. If only she could have this sense of security all the time. Instead, the image of her dead husband tortured her mercilessly both day and night. It hurt her to know that her actions had been the reason Kirk committed suicide.
 

“Come on. I’ll take you home.” Max unlocked his Porsche with the remote, and opened the passenger door for her. It was with intense relief that she slid inside. All she wanted was to feel happy again. Was that too much to ask? Ella wondered if that day would ever come. Maybe she’d had her chance of happiness with Kirk. Perhaps that one bite of the cherry was all she would get out of life. It hadn’t worked out for them on so many levels. Yet they’d begun married life with such high hopes. However, true love was very fleeting.

Max didn’t speak again until he’d maneuvered the car from the parking lot and onto the highway. “So what were you doing going out with that prick Kevin McCreedy?”

Ella looked out her passenger window and whispered, “I don’t know why. I just didn’t want to be on my own, that’s all.” Christ, she was twenty-nine, but Max made her feel like a naughty schoolgirl.

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