11. Rosenna
Chapter eleven
Rosenna
“T hank you all for joining our session today. We hope to see you all very soon. Namaste ,” the yoga instructor said with a smile.
I finished stretching on my mat as the other women stood and mingled amongst themselves.
Kira had suggested that I either get a massage or do some yoga to calm my mind, as I’d still been feeling all over the place ever since I visited her after my run a few days ago.
For the session, I wore a black armless bodysuit with white socks, chunky sneakers, and my hair in a high pony.
Yoga wasn’t something I did too often, but I was in the mood to unwind and relax on my semi-day off. Although I’d be working from home, I still had some freedom, and for that, I only had Kira to thank.
Rolling up my yoga mat, I exited the building and walked to my car. Next, I’d head to the museum, stop by and say hi to Kira and the team. She’d probably go overboard about me not taking my “day off” seriously, but that was fine by me. She deserved my thanks. This had helped.
Her greeting when I arrived was everything I’d expected:
“What’s the point of me forcing you to stay home and relax if you’re still going to go off on your own and do what you want?”
I sighed. “I’m a grown woman, Kira. In the words of Queen B, I can do whatever I want, and right now, I want to help you guys.”
She shook her head. “You’re impossible, you know that? So how was yoga?”
“Great. It was very relaxing; definitely enjoyed it more than I thought I would.”
She’d caught me as I was stowing my things in the storage closet. Now I turned, and Kira smiled a cheeky smile.
“So... we’ve established that you’re not leaving yet?”
I shook my head. “No, Kira. There is always work to do. You can’t make me leave to go take a nap at home.”
She continued smiling. “Oh. I don’t have to do anything to make you leave. I think he has that all covered.” She gestured her thumb over her shoulder.
I followed her gesture only for my heart to drop as I witnessed a heated Beckham walking into the museum dressed in an all black fit, his muscles bulging out of his t-shirt.
Before I could make a run for it, he made direct eye contact with me.
“This... is going to be good,” Kira said as she bit her lip.
I rolled my eyes at her.
Heat crept up my neck as he stalked toward me, shoulders tense, jaw locked, utter rage and anger in his eyes. I’d probably earned that. Couldn’t even blame him.
I had been blocking his calls ever since that night, and ignoring all of his texts. I had to get away from him. He was too alluring, seductive, sensual… He would ruin me, my marriage, my life… and I wouldn’t have a problem letting him. We had already pushed a boundary, one that should have stayed up to keep the sanctity of my marriage and my sexual libido intact. Which is why I had to stop.
“Rosenna,” he practically seethed.
Kira looked over at me expectantly as if she was waiting for my reply.
“Beckham… Did Kira schedule a meeting for us to meet today?” I asked.
His eyes darkened. “You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts.”
Kira let out a small squeak. Must we have this conversation in front of her?
Coolly, I replied, “Well, if your messages were work-related, you’d have gotten a response by now.”
“You really do love pissing me off… You know exactly what this is about, Flower .”
Kira’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped.
I ignored it. “I think we’ve talked enough for today, Beckham. I have a lot of work to get done—”
“Actually! Actually, she has the day off,” Kira interjected.
Seizing his opportunity, Beckham snatched me by the wrist and began to pull me toward the exit. “Well, then we can continue the discussion I started the other evening, can’t we?”
I glared back at Kira. Words choked in my throat. I couldn’t—I shouldn’t—
Kira grinned. “I’ll have someone drop your car off at home for you later!” she called happily.
Beckham frog-marched me to his car. It was new, expensive, and sleek, but I didn’t care.
I was angry. Angry that he wouldn’t just leave me alone. Angry that he thought my life revolved around him and his needs.
He opened the passenger door, and I crossed my arms again as I jerked myself away from him.
“Get in, Flower,” he ordered.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to go with you.” Lie .
He gave me a head-to-toe glance. “If you don’t start listening to me soon, Rosenna, not only am I going to have to fuck some sense into you, but I’ll pull out of the contract and tell your little husband that his wife is my pretty little whore. Now get in the car.”
Well, now I had no choice. Hugging my body, I reluctantly clambered in, positioning myself against the door after he closed it, wanting to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.
He got himself situated in the car and I shook my head. “I don’t like this.” Beckham was silent. “All you do is threaten me with telling Gavin or making me lose my business. All to satisfy some sadistic urge you have.”
He didn’t speak, just drove. So neither did I. What would be the point?
Beckham pulled up at his studio. He stepped out of the car and opened my door—and I didn’t shift. I remained stoic as he leaned down, the weight of the world suddenly pressing on my shoulders. This was so wrong on so many levels . Beckham was not a sane, rational man, and I needed to stop falling for his antics—his sadistic, dominant, untamed antics.
“Flower…” he said, his tone sound more like a sensual purr.
I shook my head. “You’re starting to have too much control over me. I can’t… I can’t do this. I need to go home.”
His eyes darkened. I jumped as I felt his hand on my inner thigh, and I looked up at him and bit my lip.
“Beckham, stop…” I whispered as he slowly rubbed his hand up and down my thigh. A blush came to my neck, and I felt overwhelmed by his touch.
“My little flower… I think you want to come inside.”
I shook my head, my hands shaking as I grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“I don’t.” My breath wavered.
He hummed as he squeezed my thigh. “You may not think you do… but I know you do. I could choose to respect your wishes. I could listen and do my best to stop, but—” He leaned down and kissed my neck softly as I let out a small moan, my skin feeling hot as my legs clenched around his hand unintentionally.
“It’s just so hard to stay away… you and I both know that,” he muttered, kissing my ear—and as I worried I would, I immediately folded.
He knew he had control over me, but I couldn’t let it go on forever. I knew I should’ve stayed away, but it was growing more difficult by the day. His lips against my skin was too addicting, his touch had me aching. If I didn’t get far enough, I wouldn’t survive this torment much longer without some kind of relief.
“L-Last one, Beckham. After this, we—we can’t, okay?”
I watched as one of his sinister smiles grew on his face as he pulled away. “Of course, Flower.”
This was a game to him—a sick, twisted game. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew he wasn’t telling the truth, yet I found myself grabbing his hand, allowing him to help me out of the car.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
I bit my lip as I walked ahead of him into his studio.
Upon entering, I was met with a different setup than before. A cream blanket was laid on the floor, as well as a folded knit one beside it with white roses scattered beautifully.
He came up behind me, his ritual of breathing me in sending warmth down my spine. I tensed, suddenly aware of the lingering trace of my earlier yoga session. I didn’t smell bad, but I knew I carried the faint scent of sweat and exertion, something Gavin never favored. He wasn’t rude about it, just… particular.
“Fucking hell, you smell so fucking good,” Beckham murmured, brushing my hair over my shoulder.
Not wanting to give a reaction, I stepped away, clearing my throat. He didn’t follow, just stood there, eyes dark with irritation at the space I’d put between us.
I turned to face him, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself, to shield against his penetrating gaze. But his eyes held me still, pinning me in place.
“You know the drill, Flower.”
I swallowed, breath hitching as he towered over me, saying the word that had owned me since our first session.
“Strip.”