Electrified (21 page)

Not as extreme as my husband.

Back then, Lila accepted this separation as part of life, although she didn’t know it would be a sentence to a cold, distant life with her own husband. She was taught as a young girl that when she married, following this custom would be expected of her, but had no idea what it really meant when she was promised to Elon.

With Elon, there were no relations when she was unclean, but there was also no touching, embracing, or caressing when she was. Well, no touching unless Elon was putting his strong and violent hands all over her.

Sex was no different with Elon. It was mechanical, rough, and devoid of anything intimate. He’d take her without any preparation, slamming into her with force, tearing and squeezing her dry skin. He never took her shirt or bra off to worship her beauty. He just lifted her skirt, pushed her underwear to the side, and entered at his own whim. It was all about him.

She had no idea how it was enjoyable for Elon, but he obviously was turned on by roughness.

Lila’s father, on the other hand, wasn’t a violent and cruel man. Austere, old-fashioned, caught up in customs that bore no meaning in the modern day, but he wasn’t mean. Her parents shared occasional soft looks and warm hugs. At least, she thought so from her childhood memories, but the life they subscribed her to wasn’t indicative of caring people.

Lila tried to accept she was doomed to live a life without a gentle, caring, or sensitive touch, but after some time of being battered and beaten, she’d decided she wouldn’t accept it. So she ran and never looked back. It was easier swallowing a fate to live alone over staying in a loveless marriage ruled by a heavy hand.

It took her months to craft her escape while still enduring the mess of her home life, all the while hoping and praying she didn’t get pregnant. Siphoning off a little money here and there by skimping at the butcher’s or the bakery permitted her to pick up a few real-world clothes for her journey when she was supposedly running errands for the house. As a young woman, she babysat a number of the neighborhood kids, and she had kept a good bit of the money in a change purse over the years. Betrothed to Elon straight from her family home, she’d never needed it. This was how she afforded her bus tickets west and the hole-in-the-wall motel. Other than that, her journey to freedom was the biggest gamble she ever took.

It was all behind her now. She hoped she’d won that bet.

When Sienna let herself think about her family, she missed them. Especially her brothers, so she tried hard not to go there. Thinking of the three of them always made her heart heavy with loneliness and regret. She hoped they were all still happily married, and that they were kind to their wives. If she could reach out to them, she would in a heartbeat, but she knew they’d tell her parents, and she couldn’t risk that.

Her mom and dad were good people, but firm believers that Lila was in a match that was meant to be. A match, ironically enough, that was very good for their standing in the community, yet devastating for her.

Elon, a boy from a rich and pious family, one with resources and a good reputation in their Brooklyn neighborhood, was a son-in-law her parents were thrilled to call their own. There was nothing that Lila could say to persuade them differently. Once, right after being married, Lila tried to mention Elon’s temper to her parents over tea. Neither of them would hear anything about it. They were in love with the idea of their new in-laws, who owned a large publishing house and were among the wealthiest in their community. Her in-laws donated large sums of money to many of the religious causes in their neighborhood, which only increased their stature.

Her parents couldn’t even begin to believe Elon was anything but righteous and good like his family, but Lila knew differently. Elon wasn’t good, kind, gentle, or pious. He was mean to the core. He’d been spoiled by his parents, never told he was wrong, and given the family business to run without ever finding his own way. He wanted Lila to fall in line with his ideas, no matter what he had to do in order to exact results.

Lila always wondered what his childhood was like, or if his dad had a temper like Elon. Elon’s mother didn’t work. She took care of the house, her husband, and children, and was always docile. Lila questioned whether her obedience was her natural temperament, or if it had been beaten into her.

While growing up, Lila had always wanted to work at the school library. She loved kids and reading. Elon made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. She was going to stay home, keep a perfect house, prepare food for every holiday, and make him babies. If she dared read at story time or go visit the school to volunteer in the little library, Elon lost it. Eventually, she stopped trying to sneak over there.

Thank God or whoever might be in charge, the baby thing didn’t happen, which only angered Elon further. So once a month not only would she bleed from her period, but as a result of Elon’s heavy fist.

Elon never struck her face, but everywhere else on her body was fair game. In her culture, women didn’t show skin other than their hands or faces, so her clothing and heavy tights covered every inch of her. They also covered the bruises. When she went to religious services, no one could tell what a hell she was living in at home. Elon would be full of himself, praying like he had a direct line to God, when in fact he was nothing more than the devil.

Sometimes, Lila was sad that she no longer believed in God. It was such a part of her growing up, she didn’t like when her original doubt surfaced. She was a nonbeliever now, though, beyond a shadow of a doubt. If God existed, he wouldn’t allow a man to do what Elon did to her.

From the time she was old enough to understand, her parents led her to believe it was a sin not to believe, and an even greater misdeed to not marry a religious man, one she could raise a righteous and believing family with. Now that she’d had her first sincere and loving affection from a nonbeliever, a man of a different faith, she was fine with that.

Actually, she didn’t even know Carson’s religion. It wasn’t the same as the one she was raised in, and she couldn’t have cared less. It was a whole new mentality, a breath of fresh air to be attracted to someone, rather than be promised like a piece of property. There was no way she could ever go back to having a firm faith, let alone think she would live a life of lies and deceit because her parents expected “believing” grandchildren. She was never going back, even if she thought for a minute her family would welcome her with her newfound ideas.

She hated every minute of running away from her family and friends, but she’d run out of options. If she’d stayed, Elon would have killed her someday. Either that, or eventually she’d get pregnant and he’d kill both of them, Lila and an innocent baby.

It was ironic that Lila had found solace and safety in one of the dirtiest, naughtiest cities in the country. Living in Sin City with a makeshift family of adult entertainment people and bouncers, she’d felt safer than she ever did in Brooklyn. Her new family protected and guarded Sienna, and that was all that mattered. Certainly what they did for a living didn’t matter.

The people she now called family were good and decent, despite the general opinion that anyone who worked in the adult industry was evil. She knew from her marriage, evil often disguised itself as good.

Sienna had dwelled on the past for so long, her bath turned cold. She dried off, slipped on satin pajamas, and curled into her bed where she thought about something way more pleasant. Carson and her first orgasm with a man.

She liked him. He was her first crush. How ridiculous was that? Her marriage was a setup and a sham, and she hadn’t allowed herself to be attracted to anyone since leaving Brooklyn. Now, she liked someone.

A dark tough guy who was rough on the outside and gentle on the inside. Good disguised as bad.

She knew as many times as she told herself not to see Carson again, she’d see him as soon as he called.

Sienna fell asleep thinking naughty but oh-so-nice thoughts, dreaming of his tattoos, and all that was Carson. It was becoming a nightly habit.

C
ARSON KNEW
he had to leave Sienna’s place. He wanted the woman so badly. Not just for a quick fuck; he wanted the whole woman. He wanted to know all of her—her secrets, her past, and what she wanted for the future. Jesus, fuck, he usually wasn’t a sentimental little shit. He had to get a handle on himself.

He had tried to talk himself into turning the evening into a night of no-strings-attached sex with the stripper.

But she’s more than a stripper. So much more.

When Carson took her home and saw her dainty place, tastefully decorated, all homey, he knew she wasn’t only a dancer. She was a million different parts, the sum of them being the best, and that could be bad, a fucking disaster, because he could really start to fall for her.
More than I already have?

And he didn’t believe in all that, or did he?

He liked Sienna, all of her. Her eyes were just the beginning of what he found enticing, and the stripping was only a small part of that. His body seem to seek her out, and like an idiot, he started to think about crazy stuff like making a life with her.

Christ, she’s so fucking fabulous on the stage.

Her comfy home, the little wet bar stocked with excellent scotch, the taste and smell of her tight pussy, and the way she said his name while taking in her breath, making it come out all hoarse when she came. Her voice, the way her whole body quivered, the beckoning in her eyes, and the hesitancy she tried to disguise over what to do next told him her orgasm was all for him. It was a first for her, he knew it, and he got to claim it all. It made his head swim with thoughts and ideas he’d never dreamed of before.

She was a woman he wanted to know. Period. Now he had to get back east, work fast, and mostly figure out how to get the hell back to Vegas to pursue this woman.

Carson knew the window of opportunity was narrow, and he had one foot in the door. He wanted to crawl all the way the fuck in and stay a while. Not forever; he knew that didn’t work.

Or maybe it did?

Take a look at his own hellish situation with his parents. His mom had walked out when he was in kindergarten. She didn’t like having a kid; said it cramped her lifestyle. A lifestyle made up of her going out and having fun without any cares, especially not a son who needed to eat, sleep, and get to school on time.

Did it have to be that way?

He remembered sitting there, eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese with a neighbor, not at all worried his mom didn’t make it home for dinner again. The evening was burned into his memory after Carson learned she wasn’t coming back. Ever. His own mom, whether she was adequate or not, didn’t value the meaning of forever.

Could I?

His dad did the best he could raising a boy all on his own. He worked, put food on the table, made sure Carson went to the doctor and the dentist, that he wore his winter coat and did his homework. Eventually his dad started dating again, but he’d never remarried. When his father was diagnosed with cancer and died during Carson’s senior year of high school, he found himself alone.

At least his dad died knowing Carson was going to college. He’d already been accepted to Brown University before he passed. He hoped that gave his dad some sort of satisfaction that he did at least one thing right.

Carson lived out his last year of high school with his friend, Alex, and his family. He graduated, went to Brown on a full scholarship, and rarely allowed himself to think about the old days.

After graduating, Carson was already a very big, daunting man; he could take care of himself. His physique, brains, and educational background made him an ideal recruit for the FBI. Political science and history major, no relationships, no known family except for an estranged mother, built well, strong, unbreakable, and off-the-charts smart. They asked him to join and he jumped at the opportunity. Carson spent the better part of a decade solving high-profile crimes, making decent money with lots of government perks, and a long list of beautiful conquests.

He made even better money now that he was on his own. He charged astronomical rates, traveled when he wanted, lived life, and indulged in his desires.

But now he desired spending a little time in Sienna’s life, which was something completely new. Her house was so welcoming and comfortable. And the little moans she made when he slipped his finger inside her weren’t bad either.

Carson imagined taking her to bed in her place, where she would say his name all breathy and hoarse while he fucked her, and then she’d get up and make coffee or some shit.

It was a stupid fucking idea, but he’d never had anything like that. Maybe a little dose would be good.

Then he could go on vacation.

Monday

A
S
S
IENNA
packed for her overnight getaway with Asher, she knew Carson was boarding a plane to head back east. A wave of melancholy washed over her, blanketing her with a loneliness she couldn’t quite fathom. She didn’t know why. She’d known the man for a weekend and he seemed to unlock every closed door of hers in the space of those forty-eight hours. It was a freedom she hadn’t felt in her whole life.