Free Blasphemous by Pamela Ann

trying.
    Just as I finished uttering my last word, I saw Bass chatting with two women hanging onto his every word. He was their fucking golden boy who could do no wrong; I was getting sick of it, of him.
    When my phone rang, I strolled away out of earshot, relieved that I had something else to do other than think of the fucking man. Without looking at the caller, I took it. “Hello?”
    “Hey baby! I’ve missed you.” Carter.
    Boy, was it wrong that I was relieved to hear his familiar voice? “Really, Carter, we both know your words don’t hold much meaning.”
    “I know you don’t believe anything I say anymore, but I’m changing, Em. I haven’t been with anyone since you, physically or emotionally,” he immediately added, reassuring me of his renewed ways.
    Was this man Carter Mason? I think not. “There is no way you can go a few days without it, Carter. You always needed it.”
    “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have my release. I think I’ve thought of you in all ways possible.”
    Um, shit. Heat suffused all over my body as my vivid imagination thought of him doing what he just clearly stated. “You can’t mean that.”
    “I do. My memories of you are so alive that I sometimes feel like you’re here with me. You’ll know what I mean when you get back. I’ll be your slave if you’ll have me.”
    That had me laughing, hard.
    It was refreshing to laugh this freely. I forgot how great it felt. “If I asked you to massage my feet every night, you’d do it, no questions asked?” I asked, teasingly. The thought of Carter at my beck and call was surely pleasing.
    He gave a throaty laugh before responding to me. “Anything you want Emma. I’m not asking for anything except for you to just see that I’m dead serious about you. If that means I’ll be your butt boy, then so be it. I don’t give a damn.”
    I was grinning from ear to ear when I caught Bass studying me with extreme scrutiny. I didn’t know what it was, but I could tell, even from a distance, that he was trying to hold his anger down. His expression alone was enough to sober me up quickly. The truth was, as tempting as the sound of Carter’s offer was, it didn’t change how badly I wanted to be with Bass.
    I’ve begged, but he was unyielding. I was completely out of options. The only way left was to free him.
    Looking away from Bass, I focused on Carter. “I—I have to go.” I cut off the call before I started walking away, fast, really fast. Before I knew it, I was running away from there like the hounds of hell were upon my heels. I was running until I reached the cottage, heaving and out of breath as I went inside.
    There was nothing I wished more right now than to leave this forsaken island and to be away from Bass because I couldn’t take it any longer. I had less than two weeks. How the heck was I supposed to survive the explicit torture?
    Then the idea came.
    I could stay at the villa . Well, at this point, I had to do what was the best for my sanity, even if that was moving out of this cottage and ending this blasted misery of being around him every single day. It was the best I could come up with without being too irrational. So I best get a move on with packing.
    I wasn’t even surprised when I heard him enter my bedroom, all rogue and uncontained a few minutes later. “ Why were you running? What are you doing with all this luggage?”
    Without glancing his way, I continued packing as I contemplated if I should reply or not, but I suppose, the reasonable side of me won out. With the calmest voice I could muster, I graciously answered him, “I’m moving to the villa. It’s better this way.”
    “ Why? Is that because you’re French boyfriend demanded you move out?”
    Ah, so he found out about Paris! No wonder he was here, demanding to know things. “Think whatever you like,” I said nonchalantly, still not looking at him. I was going to play it cool. 
    “You love playing with my head, don’t