Page 7 of Sold to the Enemy

“Why not? Some of it can be hot,” he asked.

He’d never enjoyed the whole porn thing. Drago couldn’t recall ever beating himself off to images on the computer, or television.

She wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you. Books are much better.”

“Ah, so you like reading book porn?”

“It’s not book porn. It’s romance that goes into the bedroom. That doesn’t make it porn.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped into the water.

Their conversation had distracted her enough for him to get closer, and that was all he’d been hoping for.

Chapter Three

Selma hadn’t looked at him, even though there had been temptation to take a sneaky peek. She’d been good, though.

No, she never had the desire to watch porn. Books were more than enough for her. Over the years she had wondered if she was a bit strange. She’d never flirted with guys or wanted to date those she had seen. She’d never gone to a high school or college. Her studies had been under the watchful eye of her father. He had always been careful with her safety.

The men she knew were his guards, so they were always off limits. At the small town, the men had kept their distance, and she’d been relieved by that. Now, though, she had to wonder if it was the best decision for her.

Drago was all man. He knew what he wanted, there was no holding back. She had a feeling he was used to getting what he wanted. Now, there was no hiding or even looking away, because he was right there in front of her. His naked chest was on full display. The water changed his boxer briefs, but at least he was wearing them. He wasn’t completely naked, neither was she. She found the swimsuit with all her new clothes, courtesy of Drago. Her old wardrobe hadn’t made it into her new life.

Selma did like new clothes, there was no denying it, but they had always been a treat to her. She didn’t like to spoil anything, so if she did well on tests, her father would then treat her to a small shopping trip. One of the compliments her father had given her was that she was never greedy.

When she moved away from her father and started to make a life for herself, new clothes were a thing of the past. She had come to love spoiling those around her. She used her money for the dogs and cats she helped care for, buying them food, blankets, and even toys. She also took care of the older people and made sure they didn’t go without.

Pushing those memories to the back of her mind, she focused on Drago’s very naked, very inked chest. He was so close he must have been able to feel the fan of her breath. She couldn’t move. Did she even want to?

Drago had confused her. She wanted to hate him. It would be a lot easier to hate him.

Selma held her breath as he reached out, and with just the tips of his fingers, he stroked a path down her arms. He barely touched her and yet she felt goose bumps erupting over her flesh. She couldn’t help but close her eyes as that touch went to her tight nipples, then down between her thighs. Arousal flooded her body, short and sharp, and it took her breath away.

“Did you enjoy your swim?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He stopped touching her and she didn’t even realize she’d closed her eyes, but now she opened them and gasped as he pressed his hand against her back. This time, he closed the distance between them and she had no choice but to touch him. Her hands landed on his chest, but she quickly moved them up to wrap around the back of his neck. She pressed her lips together and looked up at him. There were no words.

Selma knew she should hate this man, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to hate him at all. There was something about him that made her question everything.

Slowly, Drago dropped his hand and this time she did gasp as he grabbed her ass. He didn’t do it tightly, but it was enough to send wave upon wave of pleasure rushing through her body. She felt how aroused he was.

His cock was hard, digging against her stomach, and she didn’t know what to do. She’d read about this so many times, and some of the women were bold and reached down to touch, others didn’t and were coy. Selma didn’t know what to do.

“Tell me, Selma, do you want to touch me?” he asked.

“I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Only ever give me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear, but the truth.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. What was the truth? Did she have an answer? Nothing came to mind, and she felt herself freaking out, but she took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and then said, “Yes. I want to touch you.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Everywhere.”

For several seconds nothing happened. She stared into his eyes, and she couldn’t help