Free Killing Time by SE Chardou Page A

fourteen. Granted, I was curious because I’d heard it mentioned in so many hip-hop songs but once I tasted it, I fell in love with it. It’s the only alcohol I allow myself to indulge in hence the reason why there are bottles of it on tap at all the clubs we own.”
    “I’ve always been a vodka girl myself,” I replied in a soft tone before I began to eat a slice of pineapple.
    “Do you know how beautiful you are right now and how much I ache to tear your clothes off and fuck you right here?”
    I’d finished my champagne and between the fruit which did nothing to soak up the alcohol, I was feeling no pain. “When do the whips, chains and paddles come out?”
    Rory smiled at me in a devious fashion. “Oh, eventually, if that is what you want…but unlike my brother, I enjoy bondage though I don’t need it to get off.”
    My heart thundered in my chest so loudly I was sure he could hear it too. I bit my lip. “I don’t think I understand.”
    He smiled again and his teeth were brilliant, white and straight of course. “I love women and I respect them. Bondage is an itch I like to scratch but I can be as conventional as the best of them. However, my vanilla is more of a French vanilla than just plain old vanilla per se. I prefer to explore a woman’s body and no part of her is off limits. I would like to fuck you every way there is to fuck a woman but I won’t ever force myself on you.”
    “Ah, I get it now.” I raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You are more of the ‘kill them with kindness’ types? My God, I can see how Trésor fell for you. Unfortunately, I’m already in a relationship but if I wasn’t, I would definitely take you up on that offer.”
    Rory became serious again and his blue-green eyes turned cold, icy. “A relationship that makes you so incredibly unhappy and yet you stay. Is it the money?”
    It was my turn to grow distant because I wasn’t angry, not really. “Yes and no. My family is comfortable and I knew all the right people when we were growing up but we weren’t wealthy or even rich. Merely middle-class. My father certainly couldn’t afford the platinum Oyster Rolex you’re wearing on your wrist or a fifty thousand dollar cell phone.”
    “My model was slightly more since there were some adjustments made to it but yes, I can see your point. Is money your sole purpose for finding a mate in life? Is that what will make you happy?”
    I shook my head reluctantly. “No. I’m not sure I deserve to be happy. I was in love with a man and he wasn’t rich, merely middle-class, just like me. His name was—well, is , because he isn’t dead; rather he’s located in France—Renaud and he’s a brilliant human being, extremely intelligent and we got along and understood one another, you know? Unfortunately, he did need money to make him happy. He left me for an heiress whose family has nothing but class and wealth. I couldn’t stay there, not after they married one another. I guess you can say I was forced to flee here back to my mother’s home country. I could have moved to a different region I suppose but I liked Paris and Versailles. I really couldn’t imagine living anywhere else there so I just left and came to New York.”
    “Why don’t you have an accent?”
    “I was reared bilingual. I spoke as much French as I did English. My sister and I would often speak in Franglais to annoy people or so people wouldn’t know what we were talking about. It didn’t take much to get a job a CNW and I worked my way from the bottom up by working smarter than any of my colleagues around me. I may be one of the youngest investigative reporters on television at the age of thirty-two but believe me when I say it is well-deserved.”
    Rory was silent for a long time before he grabbed the bottle of Cristal and began to leave the kitchen. “Come along. I want to show you something.”
    Our friendly banter had ended just like that and all the sudden, the same old fear returned to my