Pure Paradise Read Online Free Page A

the sales pitch that she made up as she went along, Milan beamed at the married couple.
    The wife cringed with horror.
    “Oh, boy. That sounds like a winner,” Mr. Tamburro gushed, jubilant. “I’ll get a lot of pleasure watching the DVD with her.” He scratched his head. “How many times should we watch it?”
    “Every night before sex,” Milan responded quickly.
    “We don’t have sex every night,” Mrs. Tamburro stated, balking at the idea.
    “It’s not too late to start. This woman here…” He pointed to Milan. “She’s a sex therapist and she knows what she’s talking about.”
    Sex therapist! Sounds good to me . “You absolutely need to have intercourse with your wife on a daily basis, but without tenderness,” she cautioned, taking her new title seriously.
    “You hear that, hon? I don’t want to hear anything about headaches or any talk about your menstrual cycle. No excuses. I want my daily ration of sex without a word of complaint.”
    “Oh, fabulous,” the wife said sarcastically.
    To Milan’s satisfaction, the deal was about to be sealed. Shebestowed Mr. Tamburro with her most winning smile. “Sign right here.” She pointed to the lines marked with an X and sat down as the husband perused the form. He affixed his signature and then handed the pen to his wife.
    Picturing the prissy Mrs. Tamburro getting her ass spanked made Milan terribly horny. The unmistakable twitching between her legs was getting stronger and more demanding by the second. She needed to get rid of the Tamburros and take care of her personal situation. “We can accommodate you next Wednesday at two.”
    The wife consulted her BlackBerry and frowned. “I have an important meeting on that date. Do you have another opening—can you fit me in after five?” Her trembling tone pleaded for a different time slot.
    “There you go…putting that friggin’ job before our marriage.” Mr. Tamburro gave his wife a stern look. “Listen up, Mrs. Cheater, I want you to cancel that meeting and get your buns over here at two o’clock on the dot. If you can’t make it, well, I guess I’ll see you in divorce court. I’m serious. Our prenup protects my money. You won’t get one single dollar. Let’s see how far you get with your measly salary.” He sneered at his wife and then looked at Milan. “Her job is nothing but show,” he said to Milan. “With all those degrees I paid for, she still doesn’t earn the kind of money she enjoys spending.” He poked himself in the chest. “I’m a wealthy man, but I don’t have to wear fancy clothes to broadcast how much I’m worth.”
    At the mention of the prenuptial agreement, Milan felt an uncharacteristic stab of sympathy for the wife. Over a year ago, she had experienced the humiliation of being forced to sign an outrageous prenup and could relate to Mrs. Tamburro’sdilemma. But that was all behind Milan. She’d come out on top. Now large and in charge, Milan defied anyone to try to tell her what to do. She owned a thriving business and, as shocking as it seemed, she had billionaire business tycoon Maxwell Torrance by the balls. Literally. She owned the man. She made him wear an engraved collar of ownership as proof.
    Nothing had been handed to her. Unlike Mrs. Tamburro, Milan had overcome many obstacles to get to her station in life. Withdrawing her sympathy, she turned cold eyes toward the wife. “Do you agree to the two o’clock appointment?”
    Tears clouded Mrs. Tamburro’s eyes. She turned to her husband. “I don’t think this is necessary. I’ve learned my lesson. Please, sweetheart.”
    “It’s your choice…take the whipping or we’re getting a divorce.” Mr. Tamburro was adamant.
    Resignedly, Mrs. Tamburro nodded. The husband gave Milan a conspiratorial wink and then tried to hand Milan his credit card. Milan recoiled as if handling the payment process would tarnish her. “Pay at the front desk, please,” she said with a grimace.
    The moment the couple