His side of the bed is empty, but that's normal. He's spent his days working, while I'm out of it. Mostly, I sleep and eat and wait for him to return to pleasure me.
To make me lose my mind again and again.
A moan escapes me just from the thought. I'm addicted to his touch, and I know it. There's no freedom for me anymore, and I don't want it. All I want is to beg him for more of what only he can give me.
It takes an hour or so, and a strong cup of coffee and some eggs to get my mind right again.
You're Lola Robinson . And agent of Homeland Security. You're on a mission. You're not Luna Zedona.
The sound of a truck engine firing up catches my attention and I part the curtains to look outside.
Soren, one of Fabien's men, gathers crates into the back of the truck. Crates full of bottles and jars. With a heavy sigh, I slip into a shawl I've been wearing around.
