Method(60)

Hours later I wake up confused when rough hands grip my hips and pull me toward the edge of our bed. Caught off guard and still mildly buzzed, I look up to see Lucas briefly before I’m flipped on my stomach and lifted on all fours. Any protest on the edge of my tongue comes out as a moan as his teeth sink into my neck. My panties are yanked down to my knees before rough fingers plunge into my sex and find me ready. Moaning, I push back into them and hear how slick I am before I’m left empty. Wet fingers circle my neck, and I’m gripped from behind before I hear the hiss of his zipper. Anticipation pulses in my clit as my breath picks up. Seconds later, it’s stolen when he buries himself in one unforgiving thrust…before he unleashes hell. He fucks me like a savage, taking his pleasure with no thought for mine. Skin slapping skin, he keeps me stationary, his hand tightening around my neck as he builds an animalistic pace.

No words are spoken, no kisses are exchanged. It doesn’t matter, my body recognizes his and my need outweighs all moral thought. Relentless, he drives in, again and again, his stamina jarring as I try my best to balance on shaky arms. I take my own pleasure sliding my hand between my legs and bringing myself to orgasm just before he thrusts one last time and stills, filling me with a grunt. Collapsing on the bed, I turn in time to see him in the half-light of the bathroom before he closes the door. I use his discarded T-shirt to clean myself before curling back into bed with upturned lips. I’d either pushed a button earlier and pissed off my husband when I stripped in front of his friends, or I’d just been fucked by Nikki Rayo. Either way, I loved every minute of it. I’d taken pleasure out of his punishment and was already thirsty for more. Maybe it’s wrong to tempt the devil he’s creating, but it’s the only hand I have.

“Okay, Nikki, let’s play.”





“There are four questions of value in life…What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”

—Johnny Depp in Don Juan DeMarco





Lord Byron





Mila





PRESENT


Hugging Audrey tightly, I thank her for saving me the past three days. I’d accepted her invitation for food the night she offered, and we got to talking. Once she learned I was a sommelier, my reality break took a different turn. She’d kept me busy from sunup to sundown each day and taught me everything she knew about growing vines. We laughed like girlfriends and worked ourselves ragged enough to the point I went to sleep at night without much issue.

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“Just promise to come back and see me.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry.”

“Then that’s thanks enough.”

We share a smile as I open the door to the SUV and slide in. Sighing, I grip the wheel as she stands with her palm on the frame. “Now back to real life.”

“Make it a good one.”

“Right,” I say with an uneasy nod. “I can do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“In a way, I feel reborn.”

“But the ache is still there, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Growing pains,” she assures, “good for all of us. Have a safe trip home.”

“Home,” I repeat. “Just have to figure out where that is.”

“You know where it is, Mila.”

Tears threaten, but I tamp them down. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”

“Just a decision,” she says confidently.

I nod, and she shuts the door with a wave. After a few backroad turns navigating out of the winery, I’m on my way. An hour into my drive, I find the strength to turn on the radio. I’m relieved when I scan the channels and don’t hear any mention of Lucas. The sun beams heavily into the SUV, and the drive is peaceful. Stopping for gas, I keep my head low and fill up at the pump. I don’t get spotted often but, I have an understanding of sorts with a few paparazzi. They know if I’m in the mood, I’ll chat a little and smile for pictures, but if I’m not, they usually give me my breathing room. I’m relatively safe this far from LA, but with Lucas making so many headlines, it’s anyone’s guess, and I’m sure at this point, they’re looking for me. My only saving grace is that none of them know about the cottage which is still titled to my parents and they’d have to dig deep to find it. Feeling stronger than I have in months, I finish gassing up, and slide into the driver’s seat. It’s only when I turn the ignition, and the song starts to play that I’m transported back.



Your well-hung man: The car will pick you up in thirty minutes.



I burst into laughter when I read his handle. The man is a bit intrusive when it comes to my personal property, but it never really bothers me. I gave him my password after four months of dating because he’d earned that trust and I didn’t have anything to hide. He never demanded it, but I know somehow, he wanted that trust. He’s been asking for it in small doses since we met and as of late, it’s become second nature.



Okay.



Your well-hung man: Dress casual, but don’t do your hair and makeup. I’ve got an appt for you.