of art for his walls with oil paints. She sighed. He was such a complex man. There was so much to him—depths she wanted so much to explore and enjoy.
On the nightstand beside her she noticed a tall glass of orange juice and a folded note under it. She reached and took both off the stand. After a long drink she read the note. Good morning lover. You are my woman, it said.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Fuck," she sobbed.
How could she tell him what he needed to know without telling him what she became? Yes, she did it to survive, and no, she didn't enjoy it. And yes, it wasn't her fault, but no, none of that really mattered. She wasn't even a whore. Whores get paid. She was something so much less. She felt so humiliated when she thought about Elias possibly being hurt because of her, and so deeply ashamed when he said things like he said last night. He didn't know who he had in his bed, who he was letting his heart care about, who he was calling lover.
"But he has to know. He has to know what he is risking, and what he's up against," she told herself as she wiped her tears from her cheeks with her palm. "I have to tell him. He'll leave me, or at the very least, he'll move me back into the guest room and never touch me again. But I have to tell him."
Just the thought of Elias never wanting to touch her again forced her to curl into a ball of sobs and moans.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chelsea Shore woke on Saturday morning inside Elias' embrace, feeling warm, happy, and content. She never expected to feel any of these things ever again, and it still amazed her every day she woke up with Elias. Her smile lifted her cheeks and she stifled a giggle, hoping not to wake him.
Easing out from under his arm, she slipped out of bed and boldly walked through the house naked to make coffee and start breakfast. Once coffee was made, she remembered it was Saturday and that the club was riding up to Sam Houston's National Forest, which the White Wolves simply called Sam's . This meant no breakfast was required—they would eat at the Log Cabin and then ride north. Chelsea did a little happy dance and then went back to the room to take a shower.
Once out of the shower, she found the bed empty. She grinned and put on her short blue satin robe—the one that turned Elias on so much—and left it untied. Then she went back out into the house searching for him. She found him at the coffee pot, looking out the kitchen window, thoughtfully sipping on his first mug. He turned, looked at her, and then stared at her. Her smile broadened.
"I truly love the way you look at me Mr. Elias Neal."
"So do I." He grinned and set down his mug. "Come here, sexy, I want to kiss you good morning."
"Hmm, that sounds delicious," she said in a teasing voice, and she strolled toward him, rolling her hips and letting the robe flash as much of her breasts as it wished to. She continued until she was pressed up against him, and then lifted up on her toes to take her promised kiss. His arms encircled her and she moaned her delight as his lips pressed against hers, and then she opened her mouth, allowing him to explore her tongue and take as much pleasure from her as he wished. His large hands cupped her ass and massaged her cheeks with his strong fingers, bringing a deep sigh of delight out of her throat.
"I really love the way you hold me, Elias. It makes me feel so sexy and desirable."
"You are sexy, and very desirable," he told her.
"It is Saturday," she announced.
"Yes," he agreed.
"We are going to Sam's?"
"I'm looking forward to it. You?"
"Very much," she said with a nod. "You should take a shower so that we can get the bikes gassed up and get some breakfast."
"Sounds good."
"Would you like me to join you?" she asked, running her hand down his side and then further down to his cock. She stroked him through his pajama pants. "I can wake you up so you won't miss your coffee,"
On the nightstand beside her she noticed a tall glass of orange juice and a folded note under it. She reached and took both off the stand. After a long drink she read the note. Good morning lover. You are my woman, it said.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "Fuck," she sobbed.
How could she tell him what he needed to know without telling him what she became? Yes, she did it to survive, and no, she didn't enjoy it. And yes, it wasn't her fault, but no, none of that really mattered. She wasn't even a whore. Whores get paid. She was something so much less. She felt so humiliated when she thought about Elias possibly being hurt because of her, and so deeply ashamed when he said things like he said last night. He didn't know who he had in his bed, who he was letting his heart care about, who he was calling lover.
"But he has to know. He has to know what he is risking, and what he's up against," she told herself as she wiped her tears from her cheeks with her palm. "I have to tell him. He'll leave me, or at the very least, he'll move me back into the guest room and never touch me again. But I have to tell him."
Just the thought of Elias never wanting to touch her again forced her to curl into a ball of sobs and moans.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chelsea Shore woke on Saturday morning inside Elias' embrace, feeling warm, happy, and content. She never expected to feel any of these things ever again, and it still amazed her every day she woke up with Elias. Her smile lifted her cheeks and she stifled a giggle, hoping not to wake him.
Easing out from under his arm, she slipped out of bed and boldly walked through the house naked to make coffee and start breakfast. Once coffee was made, she remembered it was Saturday and that the club was riding up to Sam Houston's National Forest, which the White Wolves simply called Sam's . This meant no breakfast was required—they would eat at the Log Cabin and then ride north. Chelsea did a little happy dance and then went back to the room to take a shower.
Once out of the shower, she found the bed empty. She grinned and put on her short blue satin robe—the one that turned Elias on so much—and left it untied. Then she went back out into the house searching for him. She found him at the coffee pot, looking out the kitchen window, thoughtfully sipping on his first mug. He turned, looked at her, and then stared at her. Her smile broadened.
"I truly love the way you look at me Mr. Elias Neal."
"So do I." He grinned and set down his mug. "Come here, sexy, I want to kiss you good morning."
"Hmm, that sounds delicious," she said in a teasing voice, and she strolled toward him, rolling her hips and letting the robe flash as much of her breasts as it wished to. She continued until she was pressed up against him, and then lifted up on her toes to take her promised kiss. His arms encircled her and she moaned her delight as his lips pressed against hers, and then she opened her mouth, allowing him to explore her tongue and take as much pleasure from her as he wished. His large hands cupped her ass and massaged her cheeks with his strong fingers, bringing a deep sigh of delight out of her throat.
"I really love the way you hold me, Elias. It makes me feel so sexy and desirable."
"You are sexy, and very desirable," he told her.
"It is Saturday," she announced.
"Yes," he agreed.
"We are going to Sam's?"
"I'm looking forward to it. You?"
"Very much," she said with a nod. "You should take a shower so that we can get the bikes gassed up and get some breakfast."
"Sounds good."
"Would you like me to join you?" she asked, running her hand down his side and then further down to his cock. She stroked him through his pajama pants. "I can wake you up so you won't miss your coffee,"
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