Learning to Trust: Limits (3 page)

"Marisa, will you kiss my precious Celia?"

"What?" I asked. The blonde smiled at me. "I thought I was here for business!"

"This is
business
." Marcus said.
God, I wanted to punch him
so badly
.

I was starting to get pissed off, but I couldn't say that Roland didn't warn me. I was just going to have to play along until I could get the hell out of here. We hadn't even talked about the damn briefcase yet!

I took a deep breath and then leaned forward and kissed the blonde. She pulled me against her and traced her hands up my body as she tried to force her tongue into my mouth.
I could smell—and
taste
—the whiskey on her breath.
From the corner of my eye
,
I could see Marcus practically drooling on the table.
What the hell was this, anyway?
Was I suddenly just an irritating college girl, showing off for
the guys
because I was too drunk?
It felt that way, anyhow.

I closed my eyes
after catching that
glance of Marcus and just pretended she was someone else.
The kiss broke
shortly after
and then I stood there, feeling dumb. "Okay, is that enough,
Mr. Pervert
?" I asked, my tone bitchy and demanding.

Marcus started laughing like a hyena. "Oh my," he cried out. "What a delight you are, Marisa! Come over and sit on
Mr. Pervert's
lap."
The blonde walked back to her seat. I didn't follow her.

"No way," I said.
Sit on his lap?

"It won't be long, I promise," he said. "I might have to get
rough
if you resist."

Again, I thought about that gun and my feet started moving on their own
, a threat that was probably empty, but motivated me nevertheless
. The situation could actually get worse than it already was, as impossible as that might have seemed. I rolled my eyes and sat down after he slid out from the table to make room. He wrapped his arms ar
ound my waist and held me there like a prized object.

"God, you're so beautiful," he said, his voice growing huskier.

"Thanks," I whispered.

His hand found my ass and squeezed. I really hated the way his hand felt on me, but I swallowed hard and tried to zone out. "This ass," he said. "It's just something else."

Marcus pulled me toward him and nuzzled the tops of my breasts, his stubble burning against my skin.
I could feel the hardness growing between his legs and pressing against my own. I fought to ignore the sensation. He was peppering my chest with kisses, still caressing my ass with his other hand. No, I wasn't enjoying it. It was like he was just gorging on my body, a body that I really didn't want him to have.

"Roland's so lucky, Marisa," Marcus said. His hand started to sli
de
up my inner thigh, the calluses rubbing against the soft skin. "I'll bet that
cunt
of yours tastes so sweet too."
Okay, that's enough!

My hand dropped down and stopped his before it went any further up my legs. When he battled me for territory, I pulled away and stood up. "Please, I'm not some cheap whore," I said. "You got your free sample. Let's talk business now."

I walked back to the other side of the table and sat down. "Shit," he murmured. "She's even hotter when she's mad!" He began laughing again, that maniacal cackle that I was going to have a hard time forgetting.
The guards laughed as well, probably just out of obligation. "Maybe we
will
have to rough her up a little bit."

A feeling of impending doom swept over me. I started to think about what had just happened. My response was just reflexive; I didn't want his dirty hands all over my crotch and thighs. Should I have just sucked it up and let him have his way?
No,
I was sure I had done the right thing. I wasn't going to just give in like that—even if he was a billionaire.

"Ha-ha," I said. "But seriously, can we please get on with this?"

The gears appeared to be cranking in Marcus's perverted mind.
What would he do next?
"All right, fine," he said. "You'll leave me your number, right?" He winked.

"In your dreams!" I said. This prompted even more laughter. I had never thought of myself as being funny, but I guess things could change.

His hand shot across the table and grabbed the briefcase. Even though it was intended for him, I
couldn't help feeling like I was witnessing an act of theft
. Marcus opened the lock and looked inside.

"Looks pretty good, huh girls? Is this enough for a week with you both?"

They were stunned by the amount of money inside and
said nothing
.

"I'll take that as a
yes
," he said. "So Roland wants to make peace, huh?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'm okay with this. I never expected
the bastard to come around. Oh
well, sometimes people grow up—even if it takes them ten years." I nodded.

I nursed my drink until it was gone. The room sat in near silence for a minute as Marcus shifted some of the
top stacks of
money around. "Tell Roland I'll be in contact with him very soon, okay?"

My whole body relaxed fr
om top to bottom. I felt like the
tension was
rushing out of me like the air out of an untied balloon
.
Success!
"R-r-really?" I asked. "Yes, of course. I will."

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus said. He finished his drink and then kissed each of the girls on the cheek. "Come over here once more and then you can leave."

I shrugged and reluctantly walked toward him "No lap dances this time," I said sarcastically.

Marcus stood up. He was even taller than I had thought. "Just a hug." He smiled and wrapped his arms around me. I pressed up against him, but left my arms at my sides. "So glad I got to meet a pretty thing like yourself." His hands went down and grabbed my ass again.

"Hey!" I whined as I pulled away.

"Sorry," he said. "I just couldn't resist!"

"Damnit, Marcus!
" I said.

"Have a nice day," he whispered.

"Ditto." I turned around and walked out of the room, ignoring his cat calling as I departed the room. Little did I know, it was the last time anyone would ever use that room again.

I gave myself a bit of a fright when I realized I was no longer carrying the briefcase.
Oh yeah, it was for him
. After finding the bathroom—I wasn't sure if I was allowed to use it or not; I did anyway—I looked at myself in the mirror after the drop-off. My outfit was ruffled from Marcus's aggressive attention, so I righted it.

Despite the way he had more or less humiliated me, I didn't feel that bad. I had found
a suitable
personality for that moment, embraced my
inner bitch
, and kept the situation under control. No, that didn't mean I liked it at all. Hell, at first, I had been close to tears when he started making his demands. However, I felt like I did a good job—and that Roland would be proud of me.
Ramón
would be pleased as well.

Marcus
had
really pissed me off, and I couldn't deny that. It was hard to believe that he'd lived his entire life without anyone telling him that his behavior was way out of line. Roland didn't even act like this guy. I half-heartedly fantasized about kissing him and biting his lip until I could taste blood—and then grossed myself out by the idea. Who knew what that
diseases that guy might be
carrying? I just wanted one of those girls to kick him in the balls so I could watch him curl up into the fetal position.
Special delivery, Marcus!

I walked through the long, empty dining are
a, approaching the brightness of the outside like it was the light at the end of a tunnel.
Would Roland be sitting there waiting for me?
At the very least, I needed to get out of here before Marcus got any more ideas.

The light totally enveloped me as I stepped outside. To my right was that same guard.

"Everything set
?" he asked.

"Of course. Everything is set. Thank you for your courtesy," I said. I didn't really know what I was saying, but it felt right anyhow.

"Have a nice day," he said

"What's this place called, anyway?" I asked.

"The
Provence
."

"The
Provence
." I said it to myself.
"Does
he
own it or something?"

The guard grunted. "
He
owns most of the city."

"Okay. Thanks."

I turned around and walked back toward the area where Roland had dropped me off. There was no limo. For a moment, my mind flashed through a dark possibility—what if Roland had intended to let this guy
keep
me? What if I really was the offering and he had no intent of me ever returning to the mansion? Sure, Roland ha
d a dungeon. Marcus was
the type that had a real
torture chamber
and a place to get rid of bodies.
Oh,
shut up, Marisa.
One way or another, I survived the encounter with Marcus Von Williams, certainly no small feat.

When I got to the end of the block—walking down this very rich section of town was entertaining at the very least—I spotted the limo sprawling down the intersecting street, a huge black smudge that was longer than any other vehicle there. "Ah!" I said
aloud
. I
hadn't been left to die on the I
sl
e
of Marcus! The rescue team had arrived.

I walked toward the back and the door swung open.
Roland's voice spilled out onto the sidewalk. "Pet! You're here! Congratulations!"

I shrugged. "It was nothing."

"Do get inside. A celebration is in order!"

I climbed inside and sat down next to Roland. He pulled the door shut and signaled to the driver. "That guy is a pervert," I said.

Roland's laugh was
loud enough to hurt my ears. "Oh god, that guy," he said. "
We've just never gotten along. He's not very cooperative." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. He seemed to be unusually happy about this transaction. "But that won't be a problem any longer. You did good."

"Thanks," I said.

"Champagne is in order!"

"It's the middle of the day, Roland!" I whined.

"I'm going to be very unhappy if you waste it." He successfully opened the bottle and poured me a glass. I took it from him, trying my hardest not to spill it as the limo made a sharp turn.

I took a bigger gulp than I had intended and belched, playfully covering my mouth as it happened. "Sorry."

"You're crasser than Marcus!" Roland said.

"Shut up! That guy was such an asshole, Roland. He made me kiss one of his
broads
and then forced me to sit on his lap." I expected Roland to laugh, but he didn't.

"He's such a pig. No manners at all. I told you that you'd have to be brave." He seemed to be seriously considering something based on his frozen expression.

"And then he tried to slide his fingers up my leg and I told him off."

I saw disgust on Roland's face, disgust that quickly transformed into approval. "You did well. He won't be a problem anymore. I promise."

"What a creep!" I let out a groan and decided I should probably just drop it. The endeavor was over. I could relax now. Well, except that now I was hoping he'd give me the information I needed to actually bring him down. Yeah, I gave ten-million dollars to some guy that owned half the city. But it was vague. That was all I had—and it still wasn't enough.

I noticed that the trip back was taking longer than usual. "Are we going somewhere?" I asked.

"A special place. Just for the day." He smiled. "The lake."

We had never been to
the lake
before, but at
face value
, it sounded pretty nice. "Why haven't you taken me here before?"

"Just never got around to it. You'll love it. Secluded and free from all of the distractions of society."
Actually, t
hat did sound kind of nice.

The trip took about a half hour—since I wasn't from the area, I didn't know how far away
the
lake
was—and took
us through some of the most beautiful forests I'd ever seen in real life. When we arrived, I was once again speechless about something associated with Roland Starland.
I never seemed to get used to such things.