Distorted Hope

by Marissa Honeycutt

  “I really don’t need this much, Mark,” I protested at the end of the second day shopping. “It’s not like I’m going to wear it anywhere but here.”

  “I was told to treat you like a billionaire’s wife, so that’s what I’m doing.” He grinned. “Besides, I love the way your eyes light up when you see something you like.” He gave me a tender look and I turned away. I didn’t want him liking me that much.

  I had to resolve myself to keep my heart out of things. I would not only be taking care of the four guys I was with, but there was a chance I would be offered at the meetings, as well. Mark didn’t seem happy when he told me that, but that’s what Patrón had told him.

  There was still a tiny nagging in my head about trying to run away. Run home. Would Patrón have Mark come find me if I did run away? Or would he be relieved he didn’t have to see me anymore? Maybe I would be doing him a favor.

  “Kyra?” Mark put his hand on my shoulder to get my attention. “You okay?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Fine.” I picked up one of the smaller shopping bags and followed him out of the store. There were several large ones to carry. Bryce got stuck doing that. I would have to thank him when we got back to the hotel room.

  Two days later, I attended the first meeting. We were going to the ballet that night and the client would find us there. I had a beautiful purple silk gown to wear and a lady came and did my hair and makeup.

  When I was dressed, I went downstairs to the living room. Mark stared as I walked down the steps.

  “Wow, Kyra. You look beautiful.”

  Bryce and Carlos nodded in agreement and my cheeks warmed at the attention. John was getting the limousine; he drove us everywhere.

  When I got to the bottom step, Mark came up and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’m glad I get to play your husband,” he said before bending down to kiss me. His tongue danced around mine and stroked it over and over again. I’d stayed with Bryce last night, so he’d slept alone. Mark decided the easiest way to share me was to rotate nights, so every four nights I stayed with Mark. It worked so far.

  When we arrived at the Paris Opera House, I found myself stunned by the sheer beauty of it. Walking inside was like walking into a gigantic, golden music box. Mark had to push me forward a few times when I got lost in the beauty of it all.

  I saw him subtly searching the crowd for the client. I wore a large diamond and ruby ring on my right hand which was supposed to identify us to the client. It was difficult finding excuses to keep my hand where it could be seen. Mark pulled me against his chest and placed my hand on his well-developed pec, giving me an easy way to display it.

  “Hmmm, I should have thought of this sooner,” he murmured against my ear. “I can’t wait to have you tonight.” He pressed his hand against my hip and moved his hips toward me. I felt how hard he was already. “I think I like having you with us. My hand is a very poor substitute for a woman.”

  I giggled. “I can imagine.”

  “That is a beautiful ring,” someone said from behind me—a male someone with some sort of Slavic accent.

  I tensed. This would likely be the client. I took a breath and turned around with a practiced smile on my face. A tall man with broad shoulders nodded politely at me. He was very tan, but had a shock of straight white hair that was fashionably tousled. His eyes were like two bronze coins and his mouth was rather large. “Thank you.”

  “Is it a blood ruby?” the same man asked.

  That was the sign he was who we were supposed to meet. I tried to keep my knees from trembling as I nodded.

  “I like blood rubies,” he continued in a low voice. “They’re so… sensual.”

  I nodded again, becoming scared.

  Mark extended his hand. “I’m Mark,” he said to the man, no hint of nervousness from him.

  The man turned to Mark and they shook hands. “I am Jozef,” the man said with a smile. “And who is this pretty thing?” He turned back to me.

  “This is Kyra,” Mark said with a possessive hand on my shoulder.

  “Kyra,” he repeated. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said with a small nod. He didn’t seem overly evil. I guess that was a good sign.

  Mark and Jozef launched into small talk and I was blissfully ignored but certainly not bored. The foyer we stood in was so beautiful, I had to remind myself to keep my mouth shut as I looked around.

  When the lights dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, we made our way into the theater. We had a box slightly to the left of center. Mark and Jozef agreed to meet at intermission and we made our way to our seats.

  “So, that’s how you meet people?” I asked as I sat down in the plush, red-velvet seat.

  Mark shrugged. “Yeah, we size each other up. We’ll do it again during intermission and if I feel like we can do business together, I invite him for drinks afterward and see what he’s looking for.” He put his arm around me. “And then, when I’m done, I crawl into bed with you and fuck you senseless.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like a good evening.”

  He traced his finger along my collar bone. “A very good evening,” he murmured. “You being with me is a very pleasant way to make contact with new clients.” He nibbled on the side of my neck and I shivered.

  At intermission, Jozef and Mark spoke again and then Mark invited him back to our hotel room for a drink. I guess that meant things were going well. I was a little disappointed; Mark had been teasing me the entire first half of the ballet and I was so aroused, it wouldn’t have surprised me if my dress was wet in the back.

  “Don’t worry, Kyra. I won’t let you go to bed unsatisfied tonight.” He cupped the back of my head and kissed me deeply as the lights dimmed for the second half of the performance.

  He put my hand on his hard thigh and pulled me close to him. My hand slid up toward his hip and I heard his chest rumble. When my pinky rubbed against his cock, he exhaled slowly through his mouth and shifted in his seat.

  Jozef met us in the hotel lobby after the performance. He and Mark went to the bar to talk and I went back to the suite. That was fine with me; I was exhausted.

  Mark came in later, undressed, and slid into bed next to me. He kissed the back of my neck. “I could get used to this,” he murmured, cupping my breast. “Sliding into bed with you every night.” His hand slid down to my hip and he pressed his hips against my ass, making me moan. “Makes me think about retiring.”

  I turned over and looked up at him in surprise. “What do you mean, retire?”

  He turned my face to his and kissed me deeply while caressing my breast. When he pinched my nipple, I gasped. “Retire. Stop doing all this shit for Nathan. Have my own life.” He bent down and took my nipple into my mouth.

  I moaned and buried my hands in his hair. Mark’s mouth trailed downward to my inner thigh. He had turned his body so his head was aimed down at my feet. I reached for him and stroked firmly from tip to base. “Yeah, that feels good,” he murmured. Then he flipped to his back, bringing me with him so my legs were straddling his head and his cock was right in front of my face.

  He spread me open and buried his tongue in my swollen pussy. “Oh!” I cried. I squeezed his cock with my hand and took it into my mouth. I sucked and licked him while he ate me noisily. I felt his fingers delve inside me and then slide upwards to my ass. I moaned when he pressed one inside.

  He sucked on my clit and brought me quickly screaming into my orgasm as he finger-fucked my ass. My orgasms were always more intense when my ass was stimulated. Then he flipped me onto my back and kissed his way up to my mouth. He slid inside me with one slow thrust and stopped. “What do you think, Kyra?”

  “About what?” I panted, squeezing my walls around him.

  “If I retired, would you come with me?”

  I stared up at him in shock. “I don’t think Patrón would let me go.”

&nbs
p; “Fuck Nathan. He’s acting like such a dick, and he doesn’t deserve you.”

  The memory of how Patrón was treating me hurt. “Can we not talk about him right now?”

  His face turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, Kyra. Mood killer?”

  I nodded.

  He leaned down and nibbled my neck. “How about I tell you how fucking sexy you are?”

  I giggled and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  Mark got possessive of me after that. The more time we spent together, the more he watched over me. I was trying very hard to not fall for him. I wasn’t rude or mean or even necessarily discouraging, I just… I was afraid to fall in love again. The hurt wasn’t worth the risk.

  We stayed in Paris for two more weeks and then went to Dusseldorf for about three weeks. After that, we went to London. This is where he had found Austin. We went to various social events in each city and Mark made contact with several new clients, most of which he approved. Only one, in London, he refused to have drinks with. He told me later he suspected they were undercover government agents. I took his word for it; I had no idea.

  I went to the initial meet with Mark, wearing my ring to identify ourselves, but after that, he kept me out of the situation. He said he didn’t want anything happening to me.

  He had also kept me from spending the night with the other guys. He would allow blowjobs, but I spent each night in his bed. I didn’t mind very much, but I felt bad. It would have been much easier to keep my feelings at bay had he shared me.

  We had our last meeting in London a few days before we were to return to Panama. It was to take place at a high-end, 1930s-retro dining club. I hadn’t been feeling very well the last few days and hoped I’d make it through the evening. I hadn’t told Mark because I didn’t want him worrying about me. It wasn’t bad enough to make a big deal out of, anyway.

  I tried to forget my achiness as I dressed in a slinky red dress and matching heels. I felt very sexy and Mark could hardly keep his hands off me.

  I heard the big band playing as we walked inside the dimly-lit restaurant and grinned, my aches and pains disappearing in my excitement. A black, lacquered dance floor took up the center of the huge room, filled with dancing couples. It reminded me of places I’d seen in the old Bing Crosby and Carey Grant movies I used to watch—so elegant and sophisticated!

  Once again, we had no idea who we were looking for, so we walked into the bar area to wait to be found. As we did, I noticed a tall, thin man leaning casually against the bar wearing a white dinner jacket and black bow tie. His thick, white-blond hair was parted to the side over a broad forehead and deep-set blue eyes, the color of the aquamarine earrings Mark had bought me in Paris. I couldn’t decipher his age. He seemed in his mid-twenties and at the same time he appeared ancient. It was weird—like staring at an optical illusion that you can’t quite figure out. It wasn’t that he had wrinkles or age-spots; on the contrary, his sun-tanned skin was satiny smooth. There was just something… unusual about him.

  In his hand was a short, round glass with cubed ice and golden liquor. I could almost hear the ice tinkle as he brought it to his sculpted lips and took a sip while his eyes scanned the room. A woman in a blue satin dress sat on a stool a few feet down from him and I could see her trying to attract his attention. He looked at her, gave her a sincere smile, and then shook his head slightly. She looked taken aback, but not hurt, and turned back to a conversation with the woman next to her.

  As we walked past the threshold of the bar, he turned toward us and his mouth turned upward into a bright, sincere grin. Was he looking at us? He glanced down at my hips, pushed himself away from the bar, and strolled in our direction. I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders filled out his dinner jacket nicely.

  When he was about three feet from us he stopped, looked back down toward my hips and smiled again. “That is a very pretty ring.” His voice was as rich as the chocolate Patrón gave me the first night I was at the hacienda. He sounded American.

  This was our contact?! He looked nothing like the other men I’d met the last few weeks. Nothing. I could swear he was almost as tall as Patrón but not as broad. The aura emanating from him was different than any other man I’d ever met. It was almost angelic without being cutesy.

  Mark poked me in the ribs. “Th-thank you,” I stuttered. Why was this man affecting me? And how was this man affecting me? It wasn’t sexual, though he was incredibly handsome. He looked into my eyes like he was reading my soul. It was a little freaky.

  “Is it a blood ruby?” he asked, amusement touching his eyes as I stared at him.

  “It is,” Mark said when I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. I felt like the man already knew what I was thinking before I even thought it.

  Mark stretched out his hand around me. “Good evening. I’m Mark.”

  They shook hands. “I’m Sebastian. Sebastian Jones. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He gave us his full name. That was unusual; normally, they stuck to first names only.

  “And you are…?” Sebastian asked, extending his hand.

  I had the strangest feeling, like he already knew my name. “Kyra.” I took his hand and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

  “Kyra,” he repeated with a smile. He looked back at Mark. “I have a table waiting for us near the dance floor.”

  Mark studied him for a moment before nodding. “Sounds good.” He put his hand on my lower back and we followed Sebastian out of the bar and to the hostess stand. He said something to the petite Asian lady and she nodded, motioning for us to follow her.

  We walked down a wide, curved staircase and were seated at a round table at the edge of the shiny black dance floor. The band was set up in three levels on the stage and there was even a vintage, rectangle-shaped microphone.

  Sebastian held out the chair for me and I glanced at Mark before sitting. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Sebastian. The men sat on either side of me and a server took a drink order for myself and Mark. Having been out of the hacienda for almost two months, I was getting used to drinking again. And freedom. Oh, it would be hard to go back next week.

  “You sound American,” Mark said casually after dinner had been ordered.

  Sebastian chuckled. “I can’t say I’m really from one place. I travel frequently.”

  “Military parents?” Mark asked.

  “Something like that.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair. “You?”

  Mark nodded. “My dad was in the army. I was born in Germany.”

  “And you followed in his footsteps?”

  Mark’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

  “You have the bearing of a soldier. It’s hard to hide.”

  The corners of Mark’s mouth tipped upward slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  “And you?” Sebastian turned his gem-like eyes to me. “You don’t strike me as a soldier.”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

  Sebastian studied me for a moment. “Dancer?”

  My eyes widened. “Well, kinda. I mean, I like dancing, but I’m not a professional or anything.”

  Amusement lit his eyes again. “Nothing wrong with dancing for enjoyment.”

  I enjoyed it… sometimes. Well, no, I always enjoyed dancing; I just didn’t necessarily enjoy why I danced now.

  “So, how did you two meet?”

  I glanced at Mark. I wasn’t used to garnering attention from the potential clients. Once Mark made it clear I wasn’t available for the night, I was ignored.

  “A mutual acquaintance,” Mark answered. “How did you hear about me?”

  “Oh, names get dropped in the various activities in which I participate. You came highly recommended.”

  It was time for Mark to look amused. He was merely the face man for Patrón. No one found that out until they arrived at the hacienda. “From who?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I l
ike to know who has the big mouth.”

  Sebastian laughed. “I assure you, the reference was completely discreet. Someone with their finger on the pulse of many world events.”

  Mark nodded, looking satisfied.

  Sebastian and Mark continued to chat about travels and adventures they had experienced. They seemed to have a lot in common. I hadn’t seen Mark so relaxed with a potential client before. I hoped he hadn’t been drugged, but I really didn’t think so. Sebastian was just interesting and genuine. A rarity I’m sure, in the line of work which occurred at the hacienda. He even asked me questions, though I didn’t feel like I had much to offer to the conversation.

  After we ate, Sebastian asked me to dance. I glanced at Mark for permission and he nodded. Sebastian escorted me out onto the dance floor and held me close, but not close enough to be creepy.

  “Do you always ask your boyfriend permission before you do anything?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that. “He’s… not my boyfriend.”

  “Oh?”

  I shrugged, not sure what to say.

  “Then how is it you’re mixed up in such a dirty business?”

  Again, he looked as if he somehow already knew the answer. Did he know I was a sex slave? Mark never mentioned business by name on the first meet. How should I answer that question? “Um… a mutual acquaintance.”

  “Why would someone want to bring such an innocent into something like this?”

  “Innocent?” I laughed. I was hardly innocent anymore.

  “You blush easily. You’re not jaded like most women in your situation.”

  I lifted my chin defensively. “What situation?”

  He raised his brow and looked at me with a knowing look. “How long have you been with him?”

  He wasn’t asking about a romantic circumstance. “I don’t think I should answer that.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

  “To ask another man’s woman how long you’ve been together?”