Page 38 of Under His Control

His growl sends a shudder through my body. I lurch from his hold and turn to grab my clothes, hugging them tight to my front again.

The telltale slipperiness between my legs feels like a betrayal. How did he know without touching me there? God, I want to slap the triumphant look off his face.

“That’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

My voice is shaky so it doesn’t sound as convincing as when he says it. He looks amused for a short moment then his expression becomes stern.

“I’m off to work now, Penelope. You won’t leave the house. You won’t open the doors, even if someone knocks. Three strikes if you disobey and I’ll know if you do.”

11

Jacob

Finished with my walk-through at the chemical pumps, I exit the building to grab some lunch.

A chilly gust smacks into me and puts Penelope’s gorgeous, naked body in my mind again. I relive that moment when I caressed her smooth skin and felt the damp heat of her pussy against my hand.

Fuck. It took immense willpower not to touch her. If I’d done that, I would’ve slipped my fingers inside her. Probably even more.

And that fucking terrifies me.

Since I never want to be falsely accused again, I’m careful around women. I keep safe distances from them, never touch them, and even avoid being alone with them if I can.

Penelope is off-limits, the one woman I should be extra careful around, given our history. Twice in a span of hours, I came pretty close to being the kind of man who should be in prison.

You’re not that kind of man.

I thought so too. This morning was a disturbing revelation.

What kind of guy comes up with the wildly inappropriate idea to force his ex-stepdaughter to get naked for him?

What kind of guy feels up a woman almost half his age against her will, then offers her money for sex?

What kind of guy doesn’t feel even an ounce of remorse for such fucked up behaviour?

The kind who shouldn’t be among civilized society.

This is the second time my attempt to humiliate Penelope turned against me. Punishing her is leading us down a perilous path at reckless speed, and the goal doesn’t seem worth the risks.

Yet the voice that says “keep going” is louder than the one urging me to turn back.

Inside the operations building, I head to the break room. Lewis is playing cards at one of the tables with Byron, another maintenance guy. Cynthia, who’s been working the front desk since the dawn of time, sits across from them chewing cashew nuts while reading a book on her e-reader.

I glimpse the passage, “She lustfully mewled as the Viking brute pistoned his engorged, throbbing manmeat deep into her love cave with savage fervour…” in large font before I look away with a soft chuckle.

Jesus. My innocent eyes weren’t prepared for that.

“Hey, Jake, you seen or heard from Fiona recently?” Lewis asks as I sit at the table beside the window.

“Not since Friday.”

A blessing from the universe. I’m not looking forward to the awkwardness when we encounter each other again at some point.

Lewis strokes his beard. “That’s what everybody’s saying. She didn’t come in on Monday, and she’s not answering her phone or returning anyone’s calls. It’s not like her.”

“She’s probably spending all her time with her new fella of the week,” Byron says. “Another guy taking a ride on the town bike.”

“What the fuck, Byron.” Lewis scowls. “Why would you say something like that?”