Page 9 of Burn Me Down

“I asked if you were hungry?”

“Are you planning on hurting me? If you are, then come on, let’s go.” I waved my other arm at him as terror and anger swirled in my body. “You’re not keeping me like some sick pet until you don’t want me anymore. So let’s go. You want to kill me, come and get me.” I glared at the man and took an involuntary step back on the bed as he came into the room. He almost filled the entire door, his head brushing the frame. His size was imposing and terrifying. The tight plaid shirt he wore looked like it was going to rip at the seams from the bulk of his arms. Add in the black leather mask, and he looked like a sexy farmer and a Dom from a BDSM club had a baby.

To add humiliation to this already fucked up moment, my body heated in all the most inappropriate ways. I was seriously messed in the head. People joked on social media about situations just like this, but I doubted any of them really meant it. Of course, it would be my perverse pussy that decided this moment was hot as fuck. Why not? Assholes, losers, cheaters, abusers, why not a masked, plaid and jean-wearing kidnapper? Who also happened to be holding a plate of food. All things considered, he’d been the most thoughtful male in my life…ever.

“Don’t come any closer,” I said, and I swear he smirked behind the mask.

“Or what, you’ll beat me with your cookies?”

Why did that sound dirty coming out of his mouth?

“I have other ways to defend myself,” I bit back but lowered the ridiculous package.

He took a step sideways, leaving the door wide open, but what were my chances if I ran outside? I had no shoes on and no idea where I was going. I was pretty sure there was another door beyond this one, considering I couldn’t see anything but darkness despite the brightly glowing moon outside.

“Are you thinking about running,” he asked, and I heard the humor in his tone.

“No.” He set a plate down that looked and smelled like chicken parmesan. “I mean, I should. What if I was?”

He chuckled, and I shivered with the deep, gruff sound that was once more way too sexy for the situation. I wish I could understand why I wasn’t knee-knocking terrified of him. I should be. I had every right to be. So why wasn’t I?

“I made this and used all fresh ingredients I’ve grown myself. I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Who the hell are you? How do you know so much about me?”

He shrugged and stepped back to the door. “I’ve been watching you.”

I narrowed my eyes, my anger flaring at the thought of the massive invasion of privacy.

“Let me out of here.”

“Why would I do that? I just got you here.”

I hauled off and threw the cookies at him. Laughing, he snatched them out of the air, and with a flick of his wrist, they landed back in the basket on top of the fridge. He backed out the door, and with a soft click, I was once more all alone.

“Yeah, jerk. Take that, and don’t come back. Okay, maybe come back to at least open the door, then don’t come back.” Yup, that sounded pathetic. I was officially doomed.

Derek

“I said, let me out of here!”

I stood outside the door and listened to my Cookie have a temper tantrum, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever heard. I didn’t use words like cute and tantrum in the same sentence, but Beck standing on the bed, threatening me with a package of cookies, was an image I would never forget.

My body was heating all over again, and the leather wasn’t helping. Reaching back, I unzipped the mask and pulled it off to stare at the black material. This was the only reason she didn’t scream and act like I was a hideous beast. Was it possible to feel like your life was a fairytale, but instead of Prince Charming, I was the beast everyone cast aside?

Knowing that didn’t stop me from picturing marching across the room, picking her up, and laying her on the bed. Gripping the mask tightly, I closed my eyes and could almost smell her sweet scent. Maybe by some miracle, some of her would rub off on me, and I wouldn’t be this thing anymore.

Who was I kidding? I was the man who’d stolen random pieces of her clothing, feeling both exhilarated and dirty as I held the material over my face and stroked myself. This fantasy needed to stop. My heart thumped out of control, the images more intense with each passing second, and the willpower required not to go back in there made my muscles shake.

My phone vibrated, saving me from humiliation. A text came through from Chase.

Cherry Popper: Hey, Chef. I need help with a cookout.

Dragon: Who is the party for?

Cherry Popper: Come to the LS clubhouse, and I’ll tell you all about it.

Dragon: Right now?