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“Get. Off,” I commanded, anger and embarrassment giving my voice the base it had been lacking before.
He gave me a smug smile. “We both know that’s not what you really want. If I were to fuck you right now, you’d beg me not to stop, craving the very person you’re trying so hard to hate.”
He moved away abruptly, his disposition switching back to stoic as he stared me down, making me feel incredibly vulnerable beneath his dagger-like gaze.
My chest rose and fell, nipples straining against the same sheer fabric that matched my underwear. My body was hot, aching for what he dangled in my face.
I sizzled with humiliation and anger. He’d been toying with me, proving he knew exactly where to touch me and how.
Needing to save face, I swallowed and coolly stated, “I’m never going to tell you where the flash-drive is. It doesn’t matter what you do to me.”
“That’s a strong proclamation. In due time, you’ll see things my way and tell me whatever I want to know.”
“And if I don’t, then what? Are you going to kill me?”
He thumbed his chin, eyeing me with an air of bored indifference. “Do you have a death wish? Is that it? How many ways can I tell you that you’re safe with me? You’ll never die by my hand or anyone else’s.”
I scoffed. “You can drop the caring boyfriend act.”
“Boyfriend?” Amusement littered his tone. “I’m much more to you than a boyfriend, baby-girl.”
“That was loose terminology. Nothing we shared matters when it wasn’t real.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You think I could fake what I feel for you? I may not have told you certain things, but everything but my name was—is--real, especially where you’re concerned.”
He closed the space between us and lifted my chin with the tip of his fingers’. “Now that you mention it, I wasn’t the only one pretending to be someone else. You know that they say about people who live in glass houses?”
I turned my head to remove his touch. I’d walked right into that one.
“Don’t worry, your secrets couldn’t be safer than they are with me.” He moved away again, this time heading for the exit.
“Wait! Where are you going? You can’t leave me tied up like this.”
“Be grateful that’s all I’ve done. I initially wanted to waterboard you.”
“I thought you said I was safe with you?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
I glared at the back of his head. What the hell did that even mean?
“I have some things to take care of. I’m going to give you twenty-four hours to reconsider your decision.”
He grasped the doorknob and paused. “There’s something I’ve been wondering, but I don’t want you to say anything until you’ve taken time to really think about the answer. Why are you so hellbent on protecting something you don’t understand, for a man that wouldn’t do the same for you?”
With those heavy parting words, he exited into what looked like a ridiculously long hallway, shutting the door behind him. I stared at the empty space he’d just occupied, conflicted on how to feel, unsure what I was supposed to do.
I was fumbling with my restraint when Angel walked in carrying a small silver tray loaded with a handheld Campbell’s Soup, and bottle of water.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked, way too cheerfully given the situation. I recognized her voice as the one Rhett/Rhys had spoken to before I was injected with whatever made me pass out.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“Nope. I’m genuinely concerned.”
“I’ve been kidnapped. Someone undressed me without my consent, and I’m tied to a chair in a house full of strangers. And you keep drugging me. How do you think I’m feeling?”
She sat the tray down, and snorted with laughter, which seemed so out of character for her. Not that I knew her all that well.
