Bound to a Monster: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance by B. B. Hamel

Author:B. B. Hamel [Hamel, B. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Carmie

Idon’t even know why I go back down there, but I find myself in the basement again.

I warm up on the treadmill and when I have a nice sheen of sweat, I start doing reaction drills. I practice lunges while catching a tennis ball over and over again until I manage to dredge some semblance of form out of my tired muscles.

Carmie: I’m so stupidly out of shape it’s GROSS.

Gia: Could be worse! You could be like me! A gelatinous blob.

Sofie: says the girl that looks absolutely stunning right now.

Sofie: speaking of, when are we getting together?

Frannie: Better be soon!!! I’ve been so bored!!!

Carmie: Uh-oh, bored Frannie is dangerous Frannie.

Gia: Please don’t start a fire, Franster.

Frannie: NO PROMISES.

Sofie: How’s the husband, Carms? You two working on Child Number One yet?

I grimace at my phone and drag a towel across my forehead. They still don’t know about the pregnancy—and I’m not sure when I’ll tell them. Eventually, it’ll be impossible to hide, but for now, I’m trying to act like it doesn’t exist.

Carmie: We did… have a thing.

Gia: YES?

Sofie: DETAILS?

Frannie: You two made love, didn’t you?

Carmie: I wouldn’t call what we did…. Making love……

Frannie: gross!

Gia: gross! But also hot?

Sofie: definitely hot. Still requesting details.

I definitely don’t give them details. I mean, what are they going to think? My husband showed up in my room in the middle of the night wearing a fencer’s mask and got me off twice without ever taking it off? I mean, that’s crazy. They’re going to think I’m some kind of sex deviant.

Which I might be, honestly, because the sight of my own mask is making me stupidly horny.

I’ve always had a healthy sexual appetite. And I’ve always been able to manage it with liberal usage of my sex toys.

That’s not really working right now.

I want him. My husband. The masked man. Lev. Whoever, whatever, but I want him, and I don’t even like him. Honestly, I think I’m a little terrified of him after seeing what he did to Emory, but still.

I want his hands on my body.

I send the girls some generic description, just enough to appease them, before focusing on my drills some more.

There was a time when I was very good at this. It’s been a while, but I didn’t realize how much I missed being good at something until coming back to it.

Truth is, I’ve drifted. I’ve been spoiled by my father and given an easy path in life. No, I haven’t had much freedom, but I also haven’t really worried about much.

Private schools. Money for clothes and movies and hanging out with my friends. Comfort, basically.

Except fencing challenged me. Fencing was the one time I could stand up and show people what I am. On the piste, it was me against my opponent, and nobody else could step in and say they helped.

If I won, I won because of me. If I lost, I lost because of me.

And that’s intoxicating for a girl that never really had much control over her life.

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