I hardly eat and there are no suspicious marks that I can see on my body, which I explore frequently and with great care, touching myself without inhibition and without the ability to orgasm. Sometimes, only by chance, Alia passes through the room where I lie pleasuring myself. I implore her, quietly, with my eyes alone, wide and surrendered to anything, but she ignores me, or pretends not to see me, reapplying her lipstick, or re-doing the dark makeup of her eyes. There are times at work, for instance, that I stare off into space for what might be an hour or more. I imagine that I’m with them, or that they’ve somehow stolen my consciousness away. When I return to myself, messages from clients have collected on my voice-mail by the dozen, as well as in my e-mail box. I feel flushed and spent. The front of my underwear is not wet, but damp. They have sex in front of me now, often, and without note. Alia casually refers to Viktor as her lover, or otherwise indicates their intimacy. Maybe he should have done something more effective that would have thrown off Alex completely… ‘Tell him the truth,’ he offered, holding her gaze prisoner, his arms folded across his broad chest. ‘That you kidnapped and fucked me?’ She retorted. ‘Or that I suffer of some sort of Stockholm syndrome?’ She bit her lips ever so seductively. He laughed this familiar, warm, male laughter and had it been different, she felt she would have fallen for him at this very moment. She was amazing and until he could reciprocate he consented to laughing. ‘You could say that too, if you like, Cathy,’ his smile was devastating. ‘Though after this, you may lose all your chances with Alex,’ he sighed, pretending he felt sorry. ‘You think you can get away with this don’t you Damon,’ she bit back, realizing that destroying whatever he thought she might have with Alex was his plan. ‘Now that Alex knows I’m here, he will come for me,’ she waited for his reaction, smiling. ‘Great,’ he said casually. She.
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