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

by Jan Bowles

  “Look, Ella.” He waved his hands in a dismissive manner. “There’s no need to say anything. I already know.”

  Ella’s face held a picture of surprise. “You do? But you never said.”

  “Why would I. It was a personal matter between you and Kirk. It’s none of my business.”

  “Oh? And what is that?”

  “Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Max absently moved some papers around on his desk. Ella was making this difficult for him.

  A quizzical look formed on her face. “Max, are we talking about the same thing here?”

  “Ella, don’t make me say it.”

  “Say what?” Her voice rose an octave, and she gritted her teeth. “Max, you’re scaring me. I need to know exactly what you’re talking about.”

  “Why? What does it matter now? Kirk’s dead, and there’s nothing we can do or say to bring him back.”

  Color began to tinge her cheeks, and she shook her head. “No, no, you’re blaming me for something. I can see it in your eyes, Max. You can’t hide it. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me. I want to know what you mean. Tell me.”

  “Very well. I didn’t want this conversation, Ella. I’ve been avoiding you like hell this last week, but since you insist.” He breathed in, trying to contain his anger. There sat the woman who’d sent his best friend over the edge, and she had the audacity to demand he tell her? Well, he’d give it to her straight. “I know you were having an affair.”

  * * * *

  “What?” Stunned, Ella simply shook her head. It felt ready to explode with this new information. She felt as though Max had slapped her face. “Affair? I never had an affair.”

  Max waved his hand disparagingly in the air. “I saw you, Ella. You’re fucking another guy. Kirk must have found out. It must have broken his heart. Deny it if you dare.”

  “I emphatically deny it.”

  “Do you deny your marriage was over?”

  “We both already knew it was. It was over a long time before he went on his last tour of duty to Afghanistan.”

  “I told you I didn’t want this conversation. That’s why I’ve not returned your calls.” Max rubbed his hand over his face.

  “I didn’t have an affair, Max. You do believe me?”

  Max grimaced and held up his hands in silent appeal. His silver-gray eyes bored into her, then he turned away and looked out the window. “Don’t make me say it.”

  “I want to know exactly what you think, Max.”

  He turned back toward her. “I followed you, Ella. I saw you.”

  “Saw me?” Ella felt her brows draw together. The only time she’d been on her own recently was to get some advice from an ex-Marine who had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. The guy had never really filtered back into mainstream society properly, just like Kirk. She wanted a better understanding of the debilitating illness. They’d met at a run-down motel where the guy currently lived on benefits, and had spoken at great length. He’d given her some good advice, including coping strategies for both herself and Kirk, and phone numbers for professional help, should she need it. Immediately she clasped her hand to her mouth, her eyes fixed on Max. “Oh, God, no.”

  The hostility in Max’s eyes was unnerving. He thought his friend had been wronged. Max needed to know what Kirk was truly capable of. Intense anger flowed through her veins. “Fuck you, Max. I can see I’m wasting my breath trying to convince you. You’ve already made up your mind. Kirk had become agitated, and I went to see an ex-Marine. His name had been given to me by one of Kirk’s buddies who was concerned about his irrational behavior in Afghanistan. Post-traumatic stress and all its associated problems were pretty common after a tour of duty in the hellhole that is Afghanistan. I was at the end of my tether. I needed help, and I needed to help Kirk. I only wanted some advice, that was all. If you followed me and put two and two together to make five, then that’s your problem. I didn’t have an affair, and it really scares me that Kirk may have thought I did. Did you tell him?”

  “No.”

  “I know that’s not why he killed himself.” With trembling hands, she ripped the choker from her neck and pulled the collar of her blouse apart to expose her throat. “See this, Max. See the bruises. It’s been twelve days since Kirk tried to kill me. He tried to strangle me. Look, Mr. Judgmental, the bruises are still there. See. He gripped my neck so tightly, I passed out. That’s why Kirk shot himself. He thought he’d killed me. When I came to, I found him dead in the car with his brains spread over the windshield and upholstery.”

  Once she’d regained consciousness, she’d searched the whole house in panic for her husband. Nothing. As a last resort she went into the garage. As soon as she saw the car, she knew. Blood splattered every window. That image had branded itself in her mind. If she closed her eyes she could still picture the horrifying, gory scene.

  Ella clasped her hands to her head. The tears now flowed freely. “Do you know what it’s like to see the person you once loved vacant and expressionless, with half their face blown away?” She shook her head, feeling her world crumbling around her. “As you say, Max, it’s all my fault. Kirk’s dead, and it’s all my fault.” It felt difficult to breathe, and she gasped for air, choking on her sobs. “God, why did this have to happen?”

  Without knowing, Max had walked around his desk. As soon as he touched her head she stiffened. Max of all people should believe her. Why didn’t he?

  “I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t know.” He squatted down in front of her and gently cupped her chin. “Let me see.” He raised her chin exposing her bare neck. Through blurred vision she saw him studying the bruises. “Have you seen a doctor?” His fingers glanced across her skin, smoothing over the bare flesh of her throat, sending tiny shock waves throughout her body.

  “No,” she answered, aware now of every inch of the man hunkered down before her. His broad shoulders pressed against the white shirt he wore, and she couldn’t help but focus on his open collar, and the five o’clock shadow that stained his jaw. “Everything Kirk had achieved would account for nothing if this had gotten out. He was a hero. He won a Purple Heart, for fuck’s sake. I only wanted his parents to remember that. How would it have helped an elderly couple by telling them the son that they loved so dearly had become so paranoid and delusional that he’d tried to strangle his own wife?” Ella felt her lips tremble as she stared into Max’s eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did the right thing. At least Kirk will be remembered for the guy he was. A great friend and husband.” He pulled her into his arms and gently stroked a hand into her hair as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. He felt warm and powerful, but he also felt aloof, too. She knew it would take him a long time to come to terms with everything he’d heard. Feeling totally bereft and alone, her tears slipped onto the white linen of his shirt, staining the crisp material.

  “You can’t hate me any more than I hate myself right now,” she confided in him.

  Max didn’t answer. He just breathed in, and then pulled slightly away. He held his hand to her neck. “I want you to get this looked at.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  He shook his head. “Listen to me. You will go to the doctors and get them to look at it. Your voice is huskier than usual. Your vocal cords might be damaged.” When she didn’t answer he continued, “Be a good girl and promise me, Ella.”

  His deep-voiced commands caught her by surprise, and she found herself agreeing to his wishes. There was something about the way he’d said it that she just couldn’t ignore. “Very well, Max. I promise.”

  “Good.” He stood and began walking to the door. “I’ll get Becky to run you home.”

  “No.”

  “You will do as I say, Ella. I’ll have a member of my staff drop your car off at your house. You’re not in a fit state to drive. I want to know you arrive home safely. You’ve been through a hard time. I need to think. What you’ve just told me is hard to accept. But I’ve s
een the bruising with my own eyes. Kirk was my best friend. I guess I didn’t know him that well. I just have to come to terms with everything in my own time.”

  Chapter Three

  Three months later

  The heady beat of music drifted pleasantly across the air-conditioned room. “Another shot of whiskey, Sam.” Max handed his empty glass to the bartender of the Orange Grove Fetish Club.

  The subdued lighting and half-dressed guests all added to the ambience. Without a sub for the last few months, he’d come along this evening to check out the scene. When the contract with his last slave had finished, they’d both gone their separate ways. He’d found enjoyment, but there was still something lacking. His girlfriend, Jessica, hadn’t opened up to him the way he’d hoped. Their relationship had not been serious. Max absently tossed some nuts into his mouth as Sam poured a large measure of Jack Daniel’s into a shot glass.

  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.