I reach between my legs and touch myself. No wetness. No soreness. No swelling. Nothing feels out of the ordinary. I hope that’s an indication that Tristan Broussard didn’t violate my body while I was out of it.
Out of it.Exactly why was I out of it?
The wine is making me warm. And very relaxed.
Not the wine. The sedative cocktail—that’s what’s making you feel so calm.
A sedative cocktail. That fucking asshole drugged me.
I assume that she needs STD testing? A complete panel?
Yes. Everything. I need one too since this is a new relationship.
There was a woman here. She and Broussard undressed me.
What the fuck did they do to me last night?
Scrambling to the floor, I take the comforter with me and wrap it around my naked body. There are four doors in this room so I go for the closest one.
Bathroom.
Fuck.
I go for the one next to it.
Closet.
A closet filled with women’s clothing and shoes and accessories. Everything brand new with tags.
I pick up the tag on the dress closest to me. I hope that I’m wrong, but I already know what I’m going to see before I look.
Size 6.
Fuck.
I pick up a Jimmy Choo and silently pray that it’s not a fit. I don’t want to be Cinderella.
Size 7.
Fuck… again.
I leave the closet and return to the bathroom, yanking open drawers and cabinet doors. They’re filled with my favorite cosmetics. The brand of facial cleanser that I use. My kind of toothpaste. My preferred bodywash. Hygiene products down to the brand and size of tampons that I use.
Tristan Broussard meant every word that he said. He intends on keeping me.
“Good afternoon, Emma Lia.”
I step out of the bathroom, ready to tear into his ass. He stands between the window and me, his silhouette surrounded by a halo of light. But this man is no angel.
The nearly black hair. The captivating blue eyes surrounded by lashes that any woman would envy. The broad chest and shoulders. The lips curved in a slight grin, making his jawline appear even stronger.
All. Man.
He’s absolutely stunning.
And utterly sinister.
I quickly scan the room looking for a weapon and see a candlestick on the dresser. Swear to God that I will beat the fuck out of him if he comes near me.
