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He fastened a collar around my neck and locked it with a small padlock, clipped a leash to me, then untied my hands. I flexed my fingers. The asshole hadn’t checked me for circulation problems. Yet another tick on the scary box marked: This man really is a psycho.
Rather than help me to my feet, he simply gave the leash a tug, expecting me to follow along. I pushed myself off the cold floor. My legs wobbled, but held me, even though I was stiff. I was grateful he hadn’t put the bag over my head this time, but I didn’t say so aloud in case it had been an oversight.
We made our way upstairs, and I was ashamed that he didn’t even think I was enough of a threat to keep his eyes on me. Kicking him or hitting him with something raised a multitude of problems. If he was the Dom, I would be assaulting the man I asked to take me. And if he wasn’t…anything might be done to me. Anything. I knew his strength. He could grab me and hold me against the wall…and there I was finding that exciting, again.
I followed, chastened by my own spinning thoughts.
At least the leash was looped around his wrist. Apparently, I was a flight risk even if I wasn’t a physical threat.
He gestured for me to go into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, no doubt confident I couldn’t escape from a windowless room. I could hear him shifting outside the door, but at least I had some privacy. I took a few minutes to use the toilet and used the hand soap beside the sink to scrub my face clean of smeared makeup and the crusted trail of come that had dried on my skin. My first glimpse of myself in the mirror had been disturbing—eyes wide, with deep shadows underneath, against skin that looked unnaturally pale. Without the smears of makeup I looked more vulnerable, and young. Like a naïve girl. Maybe I had been naïve. Charity had begged me not to do this, but I’d been so sure it was relatively safe…
Even if Mr. Scott was Charity’s friend, there were no guarantees that she knew him as well as she thought she did. The man could still be a murderer, even if she trusted him—even if he’d never done it before. I had put myself at his mercy, and yet I knew nothing about the quality of his mercy. Quietly, I checked the cabinets, but found them all completely empty. The man wasn’t stupid.
A mostly empty tube of toothpaste sat on the sink.
As I brushed my teeth with my finger, the door opened. I jumped back even though there was nowhere to go. He wrapped the leash around his hand again and pointed at the sink.
“Spit.”
Had he known everything I was doing in here?
I obeyed him, since there was no reason not to, took a quick gulp of water, then followed him into one of the most beautiful kitchens I’d ever seen. Sunlight shone in through the wide square windows, dappling soft light over cream walls and pots of greenery on the opposite counter. Modern appliances were everywhere and not a speck of dirt. It reminded me there was a reality outside of these walls.
If he was a stranger, why was he letting me see his house? I’d be able to identify it, especially with the daring choice of tile for the backsplash. Maybe he didn’t plan to let me go.
Last night I’d reminded him this was only for one week, but he had never agreed or offered me any kind of reassurance.
“I was going to give you a bath, but I think I need to feed you first.”
He gestured at one of the kitchen chairs, and I hesitated, squeamish about sitting down since I was completely naked and still leaking.
Gingerly, I sat, tucking my legs up to one side and finding a way to perch there without tipping off the chair.
“At least it’s only your pussy dripping this time. It will be your ass, too, soon enough.”
I cleared my throat, feeling the heat of a blush traveling my cheeks. “But you said you weren’t into anal.”
“When did I say that?”
“When we were texting.” My stomach lurched. I’d never tried anal but had been willing to let him do it if he were careful. He’d said it wasn’t his thing anyway. So why the change of heart?
“I don’t have your number, so how would I have texted you? I suppose I could get your number from your phone, but when I picked you up, I put it in a bag that makes it untraceable so no one will interrupt us.”
“We’re still pretending you’re a complete stranger?”
“It’s not a game, Emme. It’s the truth.”
“Then why bother keeping my phone at all? If you’re not going to let me go and give it back, why would you bother keeping it?”
He shrugged, his muscular physique looking all the more mouthwatering in the faded T-shirt and gray track pants he was wearing. I could tell he had showered, and my nakedness and lack of cleanliness made me feel as if I was at even more of a disadvantage. I glanced down and ran a finger over one of the bruises he had left on the front of my thigh.
“If you must know, I plan to mine it for information about you, and to go through your pictures. It will be fun to compare the old you to the one I turn you into once I’ve played with you a while.”
I pounced on that. “So you do plan on letting me go?”
“Maybe if I get bored.”
“How does that make any sense? You know I’ll go out of my way to bore you if that’s the case.”
