Learning to Trust: New Life (3 page)

"Yes, I get it," I said to him with
growing
exhaustion. He had reiterated the same few concepts over and over again the whole day.
By that point, I did actually
get it
.

"You don't want to take me seriously?" he said, instantly becoming stone-faced and unwaveringly humorless. I coughed quietly, my throat feeling much drier than it had the moment before.

"Frederic, I was just kidding," I said. "Relax."

"It's not a joking matter," he continued, his eyes still just as burning as before. I felt really uncomfortable and wished that I could just disappear.

"Frederic, I—"

A huge smile broke out across his face. "I got you! You were really freaking out!"

"Shut up!" I said. I playfully punched his shoulder as I blushed.

"Wow, you're tough," he said. "That must be why Roland likes you."

"Oh, Frederic," I said. He leaned forward
and kissed my flushed red cheek and I returned the favor by messing up the collar of his dress shirt. My gesture was immediately corrected.

My chemistry with Frederic was sort of bizarre, but at the very least, I just couldn't deny it. Maybe it was forced, something that was encouraged by Roland. Perhaps he wanted me to have a good working relationship with Frederic and that this would be a good way to accomplish that.

"I won't be here every day," he said to me as he left. "But you did fine. Everything will be under control."

I felt emboldened by his words, even though my position required very little real ability in my opinion. We said our goodbyes and right at
three
o'clock on the dot, there was a car waiting for me. I left before the rest of the employees, even though they had arrived earlier than me. I was Roland's privileged pet, after all, even if it did make me feel a little ashamed when I openly took advantage of it.

I swung open the door of the limo and climbed in, surprised that Roland was in there waiting for me. "Oh, Roland," I said, startled at first.

"My dear pet, how was your first day?" His dress shirt was unbuttoned, showing the very top of his chest hair. He hugged me tightly, sending his musky smell into my nostrils. It was always pleasant to take
it
in after being without him for a while.

"It was fine," I said. "What did Frederic say about me?"

"He said you were just
exquisite
in the role, a real
team player
."

"Shut up," I said. "You're such a liar."

"Do you want to see the text he sent me?"

"Show me," I said.

Roland pressed a few buttons and then handed me his fancy, gigantic cell phone.
I looked at the screen.

She's doing great. A good new member of the team, I can tell already.

"Roland!" I whined. "It doesn't say what you said at all." I accidentally pressed a button that brought up a previous text from a name I didn't catch.

He's been dealt with. Where do we hide it?

Roland's hand was already fast approaching mine, and somehow, in a gesture of sheer luck, I hit the
home
button and the mysterious text left the screen. I fought it, but I realized
I failed and
that my face immediately reflected my utter confusion
and mild distrust
.

"Aw, what's the matter, pet?" Roland asked.

I readjusted my dress shirt, pulling it down nervously. "No, no, I'm fine," I said, praying that he wouldn't dig any deeper. "It was just a long day compared to what I'm used to, that's all."
Great going, Marisa.

"I think I know what would make you feel better," he said, immediately scooting closer to me on the leather seat. His hands crept across my clothed flesh, his warmth almost as if there was no cloth barrier at all between us.

Goddamnit
. I wanted time to think about my discovery, but my body was already giving into him, fully submitting. I could feel my nipples hardening, the wetness between my thighs that always started as a drop and became a flood. My arousal was clouding my mind, preventing me from any serious examination of those words.

He's been dealt with. Where do we hide it?
Was it about a body? A chemical or something? A missing contract or a car? Everything kept getting spookier, yet here I was about to have sex with the guy that arranged it all.

"Oh, Roland," I protested, my words both suggesting that we stop immediately
and
proceed at the fastest rate possible. He eased a finger down my skirt until it parted my moist folds, my body curling against him like a cuddling cat.

"I missed you today, my pet," he said, his lips planting tiny kisses on the nape of my neck. I shivered and gripped his arm tightly. His fingers moved quicker now, his thumb lightly pressing against my clit.

"I missed you too, Roland," I admitted. We had taken yet another dark turn—I knew
my theories
were still
entirely unfounded and
possibly
wrong on my part—yet I was giving into his charms as usual.
Business as usual
in more ways than one.
I was aching so badly, not just for touch, but for him to be inside of me, to take me like only he could.

The ride seemed to be taking longer than usual, but I didn't really mind. Roland, unable to resist anymore, pulled down my skirt, taking my panties with it in one perfectly orchestrated gesture that left both items of clothing bunched around my ankles. He was quick and precise when he wanted something. I could already see the hardness pulsing be
tween his legs, his intent
explicit, almost more so than his always-intense facial expression.

He took my clit between his lips, stroking it with his tongue, nibbling on it with an almost tender malice. I purred for him, totally overtaken by my body's need. I closed my eyes and dug my hands into the couch. He knew exactly how to touch me, exactly how to bring me what I needed.

I felt his weight shift and then he penetrated me, overtaking me with his element of surprise. I hadn't even felt him pull down his pants, yet here he was, already ready to go. "Oh god," I moaned, a fully willing victim of his carnal urges. My walls hugged him tightly, the muscles stretching until they were perfectly sized for him. He was pumping already with such intensity, such fury—and we had only just started.

I writhed against that seat, twisting in sweet torture as he gave me everything he had. It was as if he was purging himself of something, removing some
weight
that had burdened him. I was burning, buzzing, my blood literally boiling as the car infrequently turned and shifted our weights about.
We were still half dressed, my hands pulling at the now-wrinkled material of his shirt. Our juices dripped
freely
down my legs and onto the seat.

My eyes opened momentarily, long enough to catch a glimpse of his face. His expression was of a man that was totally lost in his actions, merely doing the bidding of his body. He produced low, guttural sounds as he pumped into me with an animalistic aggression that I don't think I'd ever felt before. And as much as I wanted to analyze his behavior, I felt an orgasm right over the horizon, so close I could taste it.

Roland's hands shot straight to my ass and clenched that flesh, pushing his cock into depths of me that weren't accessible without some extra effort. I cried out loudly, his stiffness slamming into my womb. Then I was right there,
the
climax coming over me like a storm.

"Roland!" I screamed, the world suddenly becoming blurry. I moaned until I couldn't anymore, gripped until my hands were tired. He followed the delicate instructions of my body and then began coming himself, unable to hold his release back any longer.
As always, his pleasure would excite me even more.

I cherished every contraction of his cock, every flutter of our muscles together as he released spurt after spurt into me. I rocked back and forth, accepting all that he would give me until we both were spent, the
very sexy
portion of our car ride slowly coming to an end. He clutched me in his arms and kissed me, my taste still on his lips.

"There, is that better, pet?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. I had almost entirely forgotten about my discovery on the cell phone in the midst of our encounter
in order to relax enough
.
Maybe that's exactly what he wanted...or maybe I was just paranoid. I had learned to trust this man, learned to open up fully to him. Surely there was some sort of explanation for what I had read.

We righted our clothes and then chatted about small things until we arrived back at his mansion, the extended trip apparently just to enable our shenanigans. There
were two cars in the driveway—o
ne belonged to a
domestic worker
and the other I had seen driven by one of Roland's business associates. He seemed to look startled upon noticing the car.

"Hmm, Martin must have forgotten something," he remarked to himself.
Martin, huh?
I didn't know a Martin. Perhaps I'd seen him coming and going, but I simply didn't remember him. Was his visit an indicator of
good news
or
bad news
? I guess I'd just have to wait and see.

We stepped out of the limo and Roland nodded at the driver. He briskly approached th
e front door and stepped inside, keeping as far ahead of me as possible.

"Roland, we've got a problem! They found out!" I heard from inside.
Martin
had an accent—but it
wasn't like
Frederic's. It was distinctive, however. I would definitely remember it.

"
I told you to never come to my house!
" Roland snarled
. I stepped into the doorway a few moments after he did. I wasn't sure if he realized I'd heard Martin. "Step with me into my office," Roland said, looking back to see if I'd come inside yet. "
Pet, just a minor business hiccup. I'll see you shortly." The men disappeared into the office down the
hall and the door slammed shut before I could even see this
Martin
.

Oh god, I wanted to sneak up, to play detective and listen through the door. Would I be able to hear anything? Also though, this seemed pretty serious—and not worth getting involved in. Plus, the domestic worker would have seen me if I was standing at the door listening.
Were they in on this too?
I stood there for a moment, frozen, unable to make a decision. I could hear muffled shouts from the room, but nothing coherent

The door swung open again and Roland's head popped out. "What are you waiting for, Marisa? Someone to carry you upstairs? Do I need to install an elevator?" His tone was snide and biting, so much that it literally hurt to hear. He apparently was going to stand there until I left the room.

"Sorry," I said, worried that I'd start crying.
Who was this man that was talking to me like this?
I had worked so hard to earn this man's respect and now he was chewing me apart.

Everything had suddenly gone from the
Bachelor
to
Law & Order
just like that
. I felt like I was being implicated in a crime or something, even though I still knew nothing. I charged upstairs, ashamed, and collapsed on my bed.
Not knowing made things even harder.

I was a reporter before, right? No, I was
still
a reporter. I was just on hiatus.
I needed to know, needed to try and assemble the pieces of this puzzle. I had to start tonight, to ask Roland for the truth when I could. Maybe he had kept something from me.

One way or another, I had to find out—and tonight I would begin my search.

TO BE CONTINUED...

###

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