Keeping Secrets (The Castaways Series Book 3)

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Keeping Secrets (The Castaways Series Book 3) Page 3

by Alexa Land


  I left the bathroom and noticed a royal blue silk robe, which was draped over a bench at the foot of the bed. Beside it was a present wrapped in silver paper and tied with a white ribbon. I touched the robe’s soft fabric, then glanced at the size on the label. It was too small for the man who’d told me to meet him here, so I really had to wonder whose home I was in.

  Curiosity compelled me to take a peek in a few drawers, then the walk-in closet. Everything was totally empty. I sat down on the blue suede bench in the center of the closet and felt confused as I looked around me. What exactly was I supposed to be doing here?

  As if he’d read my mind, my phone buzzed, and the message from L.S. said: Please make yourself at home. There should be refreshments in the kitchen and toiletries in the master bath, assuming the housekeeper followed instructions.

  I replied: Thank you. How did you know I’m here already?

  The next text read: The alarm system is connected to an app on my phone.

  No wonder. I sent another message: May I ask whose apartment this is?

  The next text made no sense. It said: It’s ours.

  I stared at that for a long moment before replying: I don’t understand.

  The phone rang in my hand, and my heart raced when I saw the same initials on the screen. I answered with a tentative, “Hello?”

  A deep, familiar voice with just a hint of an accent said, “I own the building, and I decided to reserve the penthouse for you and me. I’m tired of hotels and both of us hauling our things back and forth every month.”

  “I see.”

  He asked, “Are you okay with this?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m glad you’re there early. Hopefully, it’ll give you a chance to settle in. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll see you in a few hours. Alright?”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  Once we disconnected, I got up and wandered back into that magnificent living room. I ran my fingertips over the white leather sofa, then took a seat on it. It was all so perfect and beautiful. I felt like I’d stepped into one of my exotic fantasies.

  After a few moments, I got up again and retrieved my luggage and shoes. Then I noticed a silver sculpture in the shape of a minimalistic head, long neck, and shoulders, which was on the table near the front door. I hesitated before taking off my hat and placing it on the sculpture. Either that was its intended purpose, or I was disrespecting an expensive piece of art. I didn’t know which.

  I returned to the walk-in closet and transferred my belongings to one of the drawers, then tucked the bags away before carrying my toiletry case into the master bathroom. The transition from my life at the ranch to my weekends away included an elaborate grooming ritual. It was part of the reason I always arrived first, even when these weekends took place in a hotel suite.

  First things first. I stripped myself and retrieved the enema kit from my toiletry case. Not my favorite thing to do, but whatever. Once that task was out of the way, I took a look at the controls in the large, white marble shower. There were numerous showerheads at both ends. I had to wonder if that was standard in this building, or a custom feature.

  It took me a while to figure out how to turn on the water, then channel it to only one showerhead, because getting pelted from every direction just seemed annoying. Finally, I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes for a minute as the warm water ran over my face and hair. It would have been all too easy to slip into a fantasy in that luxurious setting, but I had work to do.

  The next several minutes were spent shampooing, conditioning, scrubbing, and exfoliating, followed by carefully shaving myself below the belt. Once I got out of the shower and dried off, I meticulously shaved my face, applied a nice moisturizer to every part of me, and brushed and flossed my teeth. Then I sat on the marble vanity and gave my fingernails and toenails some attention. I was always so busy at the ranch that this was just about the only time I practiced a bit of self-care.

  One last step. I positioned myself with my back to the mirror and parted my hair carefully, feeling the crown of my head with my fingertips to make sure I was exposing all of my long, thick scar. Then I held up a hand mirror, dabbed on a waterproof product that was meant for brows in the same shade of brown as my hair, and blended it over the scar until it disappeared.

  I did this every day of my life, even though I always wore hats so no one would notice it and ask questions. The product took two or three minutes to set, and each day while I waited, I wrapped my arms around myself and thought about anything but how I’d gotten that scar. Today was no exception.

  When the product was finally dry, I styled my hair and used gel to give it some shape. I wore the sides and back short and kept it a bit longer on top, and I’d trimmed it the night before, so it looked pretty good. I always thought it was lucky I’d attended barber school for a while when I was younger, because that meant I could cut my own hair and avoid explaining the scar to inquisitive hairstylists.

  I should have been done at that point, but after studying my reflection for a few moments, I found a tube of foundation makeup in the bottom of my bag and used it to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Then I repacked my toiletry bag and hid it under the sink, because the bathroom was too nice to clutter it up.

  I took one last look at myself. Because I worked out religiously, my body had filled out over the years. I was fairly tall, too. Yet somehow, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a big, strong man. All I saw was the lost, lonely kid I’d always been, staring back at me through my pale blue eyes. I sighed and turned from my reflection, then gathered my clothes.

  Once they were folded and put away in the closet, I placed my phone on the nightstand and circled to the foot of the bed. If this was ‘our’ apartment, then that silk robe must be meant for me. When I tried it on, the fabric felt like a caress against my skin. I tied the sash around my waist before climbing onto that big bed.

  The fluffy duvet was incredible. I picked up one of the pillows and hugged it to my chest, and then I curled up on my side. I was sure I’d never been that comfortable before.

  When I closed my eyes, it was with the intention of losing myself in a fantasy. I wanted to put myself back on that yacht in the Aegean with my dream man and feel the sunshine on my skin. The plan was most definitely not to fall asleep…

  Terror welled up in me, and my heart raced.

  I was kneeling on the hilltop behind Seahorse Ranch. I’d been running, and I was so exhausted that I couldn’t move. It was pouring rain, and that was causing the cliff the ranch was built on to crumble. My breath caught as the courtyard fell, bit by bit, into the abyss. The building that was positioned perpendicular to the cliff face was next. It tumbled out of sight, and now all that was left was the main building and the equestrian center. The horses were so scared. I could hear their shrill whinnies and their hooves pawing the ground as lightning slashed the steel gray sky.

  As the cliff kept falling away, the main building started to list forward, like a ship that was about to capsize. Everyone was in that building, Uncle Ren, and Lorie, and all my friends. I yelled as loud as I could to warn them and tried to stand up so I could run and save them, but my legs wouldn’t hold me, and my voice was lost in the storm. Why weren’t they getting out of there? I cried out in raw agony as the building started to fall.

  And then I woke up with a jolt.

  I was frightened and totally disoriented. Someone was with me, touching my face, my hair. A deep voice was saying something.

  Several seconds passed before my eyes focused on the man in the dark suit, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to reason with me. I concentrated on his pale green eyes and whispered, “Leonidas?”

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t even think about what I was doing, I just launched myself into his arms. He held me securely and rubbed my back as I clung to him. My entire body was shaking, and he began speaking to me quietly, in Greek. I couldn’t understand the words, but it didn’t matte
r. The tone was as soothing as his embrace.

  I fantasized about him so often that it made me doubt myself, and I leaned back a few inches to look at him as I asked, “Are you really here, or am I still dreaming?” I touched his cheek, the one with the long, thin scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. He hated that, but he let me do it without flinching.

  “I’m right here Beck, and I’ve got you.”

  “Thank God.” I tucked my face into his shoulder as I wrapped my arms around him. He felt so good, so strong and solid. Even the faint, familiar scent of his cologne was a comfort.

  But this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go, so after a few moments, I climbed off him and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  He looked up at me and said, “Don’t apologize. You can keep doing that if you want to.”

  Even though I wanted that more than anything, I picked up my phone and mumbled, “I just need a minute. I’ll be right back,” before hurrying to the bathroom.

  I closed the door behind me, and then I sat on the white rug in front of the vanity and hugged my knees to my chest. My hand was shaking as I reached up to smooth my hair over my scar, and I swore under my breath. It was ridiculous to let a nightmare affect me like that, and even worse to make it Leonidas’s problem. He was here to relax, not to baby me, and I hated the fact that I’d needed him so desperately.

  To remind myself of my place, I unlocked my phone and noticed it was just past eleven p.m., which made me wonder if I’d kept him waiting for over an hour. I pulled up a banking app, then made myself look at the automatic deposit that had cleared my account that morning and whispered, “You’re his whore, not his boyfriend.” Shame and heartache stung in equal measure.

  The amount Leonidas Speros paid me for two days a month was ridiculous, and I already felt like I could never live up to it, even when I wasn’t a total disaster like this evening. I’d thrown out a totally unreasonable number a year ago when he’d requested a weekend at a time, because back then I really didn’t want to do it. I’d met with him half a dozen times for two-hour sessions at that point, and each time, he was formal and distant. I’d assumed (incorrectly) that spending forty-eight hours with him would be awkward and uncomfortable, so I’d suggested the price of five thousand dollars, because I was sure he’d never agree to it.

  But he’d signed off on that amount without a moment’s hesitation, and four months into our arrangement, he’d actually doubled it. When I’d asked him why he’d done that, he just said, “Because you’re worth it.” Apparently he was so absurdly rich that paying a rent boy ten grand a month actually made sense to him.

  I’d used my unexpected raise to provide health insurance for my staff, and I put the surplus away for a rainy day. There were always plenty of those. Three months ago, my raise had paid for a repair to our heating and air conditioning system, and last month it had been used on emergency veterinary care for one of the horses (this was before Lorie, our resident veterinarian, arrived on the island). Meanwhile, the five grand he’d paid me from the start went toward filling any shortfalls in payroll.

  No one at the ranch had a clue where the money was coming from. The staff just trusted me to provide them with a paycheck, and everyone, my uncle included, was blissfully ignorant about just how much money it actually took to run that place. I knew my bookkeeper had doubts and concerns, but he was a sweet, polite kid who’d never question me. I felt awful about deceiving him.

  But I had more pressing issues right now, like getting this evening back on track. I made myself get up off the floor, and I told my reflection in the mirror over the sink, “Get your shit together,” as I retied the robe.

  Leonidas Speros only had one rule: he was in control, always. It was central to who he was. In fact, that was probably the reason he’d chosen to seek out a prostitute in the first place, because it meant he got to call the shots. His need for routine and stability seemed to go hand-in-hand with that, and I always tried so hard to make sure these weekends went according to plan. So far, tonight had been total chaos.

  I wasn’t worried about him getting angry. He was always unfailingly patient with me. But I’d acted childish and ridiculous in front of him, and he didn’t need that.

  I found Leonidas in a white leather chair in the living room, sipping bourbon. One of his favorite kinks was being fully dressed while I was naked. It got him off in a big way. Okay, so it got me off too, but that wasn’t the point. When I reached him, I started to untie the sash around my waist, but he said, “Let’s not do that yet. Come and sit with me. I need to know you’re okay.”

  He held his hand out to me, and I hesitated for a moment. I wanted to insist I was fine, but it would have been a lie, so I climbed onto his lap and settled in. He held me with his left arm as he reached for something on the side table. I was surprised when he handed me a cup of tea. That simple act of kindness almost made me cry, which told me I really hadn’t gotten it together yet.

  I murmured, “Thank you,” and took a sip. The tea was laced with lemon and honey, and it was warm and soothing and exactly what I needed.

  As predicted, a million lights in the basin below us had turned the view into something magical. I held the mug with both hands and rested my head on his shoulder as I stared out at that spectacular panorama, and he nuzzled my hair with his cheek.

  When I finished my drink, he returned the mug to the table, and then he wrapped his arms around me and asked, “How do you like the apartment?”

  “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Please feel free to use it whenever you’re in L.A.”

  I glanced up at him and asked, “Do you really trust me that much?”

  “I trust you enough to fall asleep beside you. Trusting you with an apartment is trivial by comparison.” I met his gaze as I pondered that statement. After a moment, he changed the subject with, “May I ask what the dream was about?”

  As much as I wanted to keep my worlds separate, I’d mentioned the ranch on more than one occasion. It meant so much to me that it was impossible to just forget about it during my weekends away. So Leonidas knew what I was referring to when I told him about the nightmare, and he said, “That’s quite literal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you worry about the business going under. It sounds like that’s exactly what was happening in your dream.”

  “You’re right.”

  He asked, “Is the ranch in trouble?”

  “No more than usual. We’ve always scraped by month to month.” I found myself adding, “My uncle wants to make me a co-owner of the property. He asked a lawyer to draw up the paperwork, and we’re supposed to meet with him next week.”

  Leonidas looked concerned. “What’s going to happen with us? Will we still have these weekends?”

  “Nothing’s changing.” The look of relief on his face was surprising. So was the fact that it seemed as if he’d been holding his breath.

  Even if the ranch started making money and I no longer needed the income these weekends provided, I still wouldn’t want to change a thing. I loved belonging to him. I loved the rough sex and the quiet comfort of the time we spent together before and after. I loved the sound of his voice and the feel of his touch and the way he took care of me. I didn’t tell him any of that, but it was absolutely true.

  We watched each other for a long moment. He was such a beautiful man, and that was in no way diminished by his scar. His hair was thick and almost black, and his handsome face was framed by a strong jaw, which usually sported a five o’clock shadow. Best of all were those green eyes with their dark lashes, which gave me glimpses of his thoughts and emotions but always left me wanting to know more.

  He traced the curve of my jaw with a fingertip as his gaze lingered on my mouth. He was so kind to me, kinder than any lover, any boyfriend, and certainly any trick had ever been. After a moment, he leaned in and kissed me. I sat across his lap with my legs draped over the arm of the chair, and he cr
adled me like one would hold a child. I let myself relax in his arms as I parted my lips for him.

  Leonidas deepened the kiss. So much went unsaid between us, but it was all there in the urgency of his lips on mine. He told me how much he’d missed me, how much he needed me, without saying a word.

  This wasn’t about money or playing a role. It was about him and me, not what had brought us there. In that moment, he was all that mattered, and he made me feel like I was all that mattered, too.

  I started to reach for his face, but then I stopped myself. He hated the scar on his left cheek and always pulled away when I touched it. But today, he murmured, “It’s okay.”

  He was giving me a gift with those words, and I knew it. I cupped his face between my palms and kissed him with a kind of barely contained desperation. The urge to give him something in return was overwhelming, and I whispered, “Please let me kneel for you.” He searched my eyes for a long moment as he stroked my hair, and then he nodded. My cock was already starting to swell as I removed the robe and dropped to my knees on the thick, fluffy area rug. The softness of that rug and where it was placed seemed very thoughtful in that moment.

  I took a shaky breath as my cock throbbed. God, I needed this. Relinquishing control was as important to me as maintaining it was to Leonidas.

  His response was immediate and gratifying. His full lips parted as desire flared in his eyes. The effect I had on him made me feel surprisingly powerful.

  He took off his suit jacket, and my gaze flickered to the black leather shoulder holster he was wearing. While he allowed me to see that every time we got together, I’d never seen the gun it must usually contain. I assumed it was either tucked away in his luggage or locked in his car.

 

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