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Her cries became tortured moans as she began to shake.
Fuck me, I wanted more.
I wanted her limp with exhaustion, too sated to move.
“Ohhhh!” The sharp intake of breath as Holly stiffened was the hottest sound I’d ever heard. She crashed, crying out as she came, whimpering as aftershocks continued to clench her womb. Her glorious tits were hard as pebbles, pointing proudly to the ceiling as she struggled to breathe.
But I wasn’t finished.
I climbed her body and firmly claimed her mouth, letting her taste her own musk on my tongue. I penetrated her lips as I had her pussy, demanding that she submit, that she soften, which she did with the sweetest yield, accepting my tongue as it tangled with hers. I took her mouth without mercy.
Finally, I pulled away. Holly’s lips glistened in the dim light from my sensual assault.
I gazed at the beauty of all that soft feminine flesh beneath me and said in a low tone that she would never forget, “Now that was a kiss, baby girl..”
She made a small mewling sound as her eyelids fluttered shut and my little captive was out.
I ignored my rock hard cock and closed my eyes, too.
Sleep found me nearly as quick and before long, I was out.
Chapter 10
Holly
I awoke with a start, bleary-eyed and disoriented by the foreign surroundings until the memory came crashing back within a heartbeat.
I clutched the blanket to my naked chest and swiveled my gaze to see Cason sacked out, one arm flung over his eyes, his sensual mouth parted as he slept.
Cason had…I swallowed the mortification stuck in my throat…he had kissed me.
Not an ordinary kiss.
He’d…gone down on me.
The only man who’d ever done that to me was the man who’d stolen me.
The man who had no care for my well-being, nor was he shy about his plans to use me against my brother.
Cason had touched my most private of places and I’d been helpless to stop the crushing wave of pleasure that’d nearly drowned me.
I closed my eyes, trying not to dwell.
I may be a virgin, but I wasn’t a nun. I mean, I’d experimented with stuff. I’d never gone so far as to stick a cucumber up my hoo-hah but I’d used a a tiny pocket vibrator a few times.
It was really cute, fit in my purse.
Until I realized I really shouldn’t be packing a vibrator around like I would a tube of lipstick, so I tucked it in a drawer and forgot about it.
Because let’s be honest, what I got from that little vibe had been nothing in comparison to what Cason had given me.
Heat crawled my cheeks at the memory.
Cason’s kiss had been way better than mine.
I chewed my bottom lip, conflicted.
I was almost embarrassed by my puckered up peck.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to do what he did!
Cason didn’t even know me but he’d stuck his tongue…
Oh God, Holly, you’re obsessing.
Just stop.
Move on.
Now’s your chance to run.
That stern voice of reason cut through the jabbering nonsense and I realized if there was ever a moment, now would be the time. Unlike before, Cason was out like a light.
Ever so carefully, I slid from the bed, scooped up my clothes and tip-toed out of the bedroom, my heart beating so hard I thought it might jump from my chest.
My fingers trembled as I yanked on my jeans and tossed the shirt over my head. Seconds later I realized, I’d inadvertently grabbed Cason’s shirt instead of my own but there was no way I was going back into that bedroom to find the right one.
Cason would just have to buy another shirt.
I cleared the front door and started running barefoot down the street. If I could get to a phone, I could call my brother. Butcher would kill Cason when he found out what he’d done. Not because I was some prize but because Butcher would take Cason’s actions as an insult.
And my brother had no tolerance for insults.
My toe caught on something sharp and I stumbled to the crumbling asphalt, ripping my jeans and skinning my knee. I bit back a howl as tears burned behind my eyes but I wasn’t going to cry, not here. I climbed to my feet and started again, only this time, I had a slight limp. I scanned the street for signs of life but this place was like a ghost town.
Had Cason brought me to the moon?
This was the creepiest, most abandoned part of the city I could’ve imagined.
Great atmosphere for a serial killer to set up shop.
I rounded the corner and came to a sudden stop, unsure of which way to turn. I had no idea where I was and no way to call anyone for help. What I wouldn’t give for a payphone.
But nothing but busted sidewalks and graffiti surrounded me.
This place was where dreams came to die, I thought dismally.
Right or left, pick a direction.
I turned left and picked up my pace as much as possible.
“Oh thank God,” I breathed as I saw a black woman sitting on her front porch step, smoking a cigarette. I headed toward her, waving frantically. “Help!” I called out. “I need help!”
The woman had almond-shaped dark eyes that narrowed with interest as I half-ran, half-limped into her yard. “Whatcha doin’ white girl? You lost?”
I tried to catch my breath. “I need to use your phone. I was kidnapped last night and I need to call the police.”
“Sure honey,” she said with a slight smile, stubbing out her cigarette. “Come with me.”
I ignored every sound bit of advice that warned of going anywhere with strangers, because, I’d already been kidnapped, surely it couldn’t happen twice in twenty-four hours, and followed the woman into her place.
The stale scent of spilled beer and forgotten pizza was worse than Tito’s place, which I found shocking but I tried to hide my reaction. It didn’t seem smart to make complaints to the people you were asking help from.
A man with a pouchy belly and an oily mess of hair scratched himself as he entered the living room until he stopped short when he saw me. There was a brief, awkward stalemate as we both stared then he asked the woman, “What’s this shit?”
“She needs a phone.”
“For what?”
I answered for myself. “I know this sounds crazy but I was kidnapped last night. I need to call the police.”
“Kidnapped? You look all right to me,” he countered, shaking out a cigarette and sticking it between his cracked lips. He lit up and dragged deep. “Sometimes girls make up stories, you know?”
I stiffened. “I promise you, I don’t make up stories. Can I use your phone or not?”
The man exchanged a look with the woman. “The problem is we don’t have a phone. When we need to make a call, we go down to the Quickie Mart and use the payphone. It’s about two miles down the road.”
“So I can walk it,” I surmised, but my toe was still bleeding and my knee felt as if it’d gone through a grinder. Two miles would suck. Plus I needed to stay off the road in case Cason woke up and found me gone.
“I can take you if you want,” he offered. “Just let me get dressed. Sound good?”
Did the idea of getting into the car with the creepy dude sound good? Hell no, but I supposed by car two miles would take all of five minutes and I was desperate so I agreed.
“Thank you.”
“Juanita, get the girl something to drink. She looks parched.”
I was thirsty.
“Water would be great,” I murmured, antsy to get out of this house. I was starting to get the creepy crawlies.
Juanita shoved off the wall where sh
e’d been stationed and sauntered into the dirty kitchen. On second thought, maybe I didn’t want to drink what came out of their tap.
I turned to glance out the grimy window, watching for Cason or Tito, when Juanita returned to thrust a glass into my hand. “Sorry, no ice.”
“This is fine,” I assured her, trying not to be rude. I took a quick swallow. There was a faint iron taste, which was probably due to the old pipes in this neighborhood, but at least it was wet.
I started to return the half-full glass to Juanita but her pointed look told me I ought to finish what was given. I gulped down the rest of the water, noting the bitterness, and I wondered if Cason would’ve been safer.
“So…is he your husband?” I ventured, trying to make conversation.
“He my man,” Juanita confirmed, watching me closely. “What’s your name, girl?”
“Holly,” I answered, running my tongue across my teeth, feeling slightly odd. I purposefully left off my last name.
“You got nice hair.” She reached out to finger the texture, as if assessing the quality. I subtly pulled away, weirded out by the observation. “Men like that color. Real nice.”
I had no response. What was the appropriate thing to say? Not that I could’ve managed anything. My tongue felt furred. I blinked as my vision blurred. I shook my head, trying to clear whatever was in my eye but it only got worse.
“Feeling okay, sugar?” The man asked as he returned, his hair slicked back, watching me with a faint grin. “You look like you ought to sit down before you fall down.”
I couldn’t think straight. I stumbled into the wall, knocking over a faded picture.
“Bitch, watch yourself,” Juanita shouted. “That was from my grand-mama.”
I tried to make it to the door but it kept getting further and further away. I reached for the door handle but I grasped thin air. Noooo, this couldn’t be happening. I was a damn college student. The dangers of date rape drugs were everywhere. You couldn’t walk ten steps without seeing some kind of flyer or poster filled with helpful tips on how to remain safe.
*Don’t leave your drink unattended.
*Don’t go out alone.
*Don’t accept drinks from strangers
