Read Online Xtreme by Ruby Laska - Free Book Online Page A

got so sick and had to stay in bed all day with the medicine that made her eyes glaze over and stole her ability to speak—were no longer special. In fact they were no longer hers: the camera stole them from her. Occasionally Roy Huber would show her one of the pictures he took, and all Chelsea saw was a stranger, a little girl she had never seen before, huddled in misery.
    Here, in this bar, she did have a protector. Ricardo would never allow any harm to come to her. He had made that promise from the start, and Chelsea believed him. But the proof was also in his hand on the small of her back, his watchful eye, the fear and respect he commanded in other men without saying a word.
    She was wearing a beautiful dress and heels that made her taller than nearly every man here. Her relentless workouts had made her feel strong and capable. She could fight, she could run, she could choose what happened to her.
    And so far, she chose to stay. The feeling of all those eyes on her was…intoxicating. It wasn’t that she was attracted to them. It was that—
    â€œYou may choose,” Ricardo said. “You will allow one man to approach. To honor you.”
    She whirled around, open-mouthed. “To do what?”
    â€œWhatever I decide. Chelsea, please do not forget, you have your safe word. This is all in your control.”
    The first night they had spent together, Ricardo had given her a word— magnolia —and promised her that if she uttered it, he would immediately stop whatever he was doing. At the time, she’d been startled by the coincidence, as she had grown up on Magnolia Drive. But since then she had come to understand that it had not been a coincidence. Ricardo, with his seemingly limitless resources, had known everything about her before he ever caressed her.
    Now he wanted to display her. As with so many of the new experiences Ricardo introduced her to, she didn’t understand intellectually why anyone would enjoy them. But her body already knew. It already yearned.
    â€œI can’t choose,” she said, to buy herself time. “You choose.”
    His hand went to the back of her neck; his fingers found the collar under her hair. He pulled, just hard enough to cause her to gasp. “ Querida . Really, have you forgotten so much? Do you really think I will allow you to give me orders?”
    â€œN-no,” she whispered, and the pressure was released.
    Several of the men were murmuring to each other, their gestures indicating what they were discussing, the things they wanted to do to her. Even the bartender was leaning back against the liquor shelves, her arms crossed, a predatory grin on her face.
    â€œThen you have five seconds,” he said, “or I shall begin taking volunteers.”
    She looked wildly from one man to the next. Old ones, decrepit ones, men missing teeth, men who looked like they hadn’t showered or shaved in ages. In the very corner of the room, sitting at a table by himself with a half-empty pitcher of beer, was a man of about forty with his hair cut short, his face clean-shaven, a plain T-shirt and jeans that, though worn, were clean. His boots looked like he’d walked a thousand miles in them. His arms looked like he’d done it while carrying thousand-pound weights.
    â€œHim,” she said desperately. “Over there.”
    â€œAll right. Stay here.”
    Chelsea was still wondering where he thought she would go as he went to speak to the man. They had a brief exchange, the man looking over at her before nodding and pushing back his chair. Ricardo dropped coins into the jukebox, and they both walked over to her.
    Ricardo signaled the bartender as the first pounding bars of the song came on. “Another for the house,” he ordered. Then he took a seat on the nearest barstool. “Darling, this is Daniel,” he said. “He’s on leave from the Army. Perhaps, mi corazon , you could show him how you value his