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domicile—felt just as violating as being trapped. No one came to his home uninvited. No one. None of his clients even knew where he lived. None were invited over. What he offered to them had nothing to do with that.
    And it damn sure shouldn’t be filled with someone crazy enough to drug him.
    Who is she?
    He was high and weak, but even in the haze he had long since pushed aside the idea of the woman who took his virginity being his captor. Ms. Nunez—Essie—would have to be in her early fifties. Although her obsession with his father led to her using him to pay Tylar back for all the other women he slept with, she ended up harassing them so badly in the days after his father discovered them in bed that they eventually moved.
    Crazy enough? Yes. Strong enough? Hell no.
    Or was she?
    â€œNice kitchen, Pleasure. I could just see me in there making dinner for you,” she said, her voice growing louder as she neared him. “Just slicing and dicing.”
    The hairs on the back of his neck tingled beneath the full curtain of his waist-length dreads as she came up to stand behind him.
    â€œReally sharp knives.”
    The first feel of the cool steel pressed against the warm pulse of his throat jolted him from his stupor.
    â€œDon’t worry, this isn’t a part of our unfinished business.”
    She removed the blade and turned swiftly to shove it into the back of his leather sofa. She slowly walked the length of it, cutting a jagged line in the material before plunging the knife into the plush cushion with a grunt.
    He used every bit of the strength still in his body to drop his head back. “You sure it’s not Tylar you want?” he asked.
    â€œTylar?” she said, the brown eyes peering through the slits in her mask filled with confusion and some other emotion that gave him trepidation.
    â€œNo, trust. It’s you I want, and it’s you I got,” she said, coming over to straddle his hips and grip the sides of his face to jerk his head up until his eyes locked with hers. “Finally.”

Chapter 4
    Geneva
    2002
    Â 
    Â 
    â€œR unning and boxing does your body so good.”
    Graham smiled as he pressed a kiss to the shoulder of... of . . .
    He couldn’t remember her name.
    Pressing his face against her nape, he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and pulled her against him as they lay in bed.
    â€œAnd that made you do my body so good,” she purred, reaching behind herself to stroke his muscular thigh.
    He’d met her just that afternoon at the barbecue his father and his girl, Kia, had at their new house. A little conversation and a few dances later they’d headed to an obscure motel. The entire night, including the cost of the moldy room, had been less than a hundred dollars. Well worth the blow job alone. He loved a swallower.
    â€œMaybe we can go running together,” she offered, turning over on her side to face him with a smile.
    â€œActually I don’t live in Brooklyn anymore,” he said, his eyes searching her round face and wide eyes. “I was just in town for the barbecue.”
    She pouted and reached up to lightly pinch his chin.
    â€œWhen my dad moved in with his girlfriend I headed back to my mom’s in the ’burbs,” Graham admitted, rolling over onto his back.
    â€œYou don’t seem happy about it,” she said, propping herself up on the pillow as she lowered the sheet and then traced the contours of his abdomen with her forefinger.
    Graham just shrugged, but truthfully, he wasn’t happy about it. The best thing that ever happened for him had been moving out of Bedford. Being there every day was a constant reminder of shit he wanted—needed—to forget. Now he was back after four years, and the memories were not as sharp and painful. Shit seemed so far away .
    â€œI usually don’t do one-night stands, you know,” she said, pressing her cool lips to his muscled