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“You only get a week with me,” I said, trying not to sound terrified despite the thickening hot lump of dread in my throat. “After that you have to let me go.”
He must be joking.
“Or what? No one knows where you are, Emme.”
“See? You know my name!”
“I have your purse, silly girl. The barista also said it in the café, and so did your friend. I was sitting behind you for a while. Was that Charity?”
“You know it was.”
“Did she give you any indication that she even noticed me, let alone knew me? Was she making subtle eye contact with me when you weren’t paying attention?”
Had she? She would’ve needed to see around a corner, wouldn’t she? The booth dividers were tall. I tried to think, but I only remembered being surprised that he was there at all. If he was someone she knew, she would have let on. I think? She wasn’t very sneaky. It was everything I could do to keep her from telling me the name of the guy.
I chewed my lip. “You’re too attractive to be a real kidnapper.” Dumb thing to say. I knew it even as I said it.
His brows rose. He grabbed the neckline of my dress and reeled me in. A knife I hadn’t noticed was in his other hand, and he slashed the fabric open, drawing the blade down with practiced ease. I gasped with the speed of his movement, and the fact that there’d been no warning. My bra was next, and my breasts spilled out. He made a sound like a predator’s purr.
“You should probably stay still.” He grabbed a handful of my hair and ran the blade over my skin, making my chest break out in goose bumps. “The way a man looks doesn’t have much to do with what makes his dick hard, Emme. It’s not only your pussy I want, it’s this. Power.”
The blade slid downward to slip under and part the fabric of my panties, until they fell away. His lazy gaze followed the knife, and I held very still.
“Pretty girls are easy to get. But ones like you? No one even knows you’re missing.”
I swallowed. Put like that… Would he cut me? Would he stab me to death?
With money like he seemed to have, he probably could make me disappear, and if this wasn’t Charity’s friend…
But he hadn’t mentioned killing me. Maybe he’d just keep me. Maybe this was Charity’s friend, and he just had a knack for acting creepy.
Except I was pretty sure this guy wasn’t acting.
It was like an episode of Criminal Minds, but there was no team of crack experts doing a voice-over to tell me what was happening.
I tried to think back to the one-day kidnapping and assault course I’d taken with my friend in high school. It had been hard to concentrate because I’d kept fantasizing.
The knife disappeared between my thighs, as he reversed it in his hand.
“What are you doing?” My ragged breathing shook the words.
“Whatever I want.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I just got you. Why would I kill you already? That seems wasteful.”
“Maybe you’ve done this before,” I fished. “Maybe you do this all the time?”
“I’ve never kidnapped a willing victim before. It never occurred to me that there might be such an animal.”
“I’m not an animal, I’m a person.”
He arched a brow. “Maybe you were a person at some point, but now you’re just a toy.” The knife handle nudged at me, parting my labia. Slowly, he coaxed it up into me. I whined and shook—the handle was thick and rigid and uncomfortable, and I could feel my own slickness as my body accepted the invasion. He fucked it into me, and I tried my damnedest to stay still, but I found myself tilting my hips to accommodate the angle and stop it from hurting. Thank god there was a metal bar separating the handle from the blade, because it meant he had to stop before he cut me.
The end of his thumb brushed my clit, and I sobbed in distress, ashamed at my reaction to this rude game.
“Such a dirty girl, creaming all over my knife handle. Do you need to come?”
