Page 18 of Not Another Dark Romance

The basement stairs creak again as Zane comes down with a goddamn protein bar. But at least he has a coffee.

I stare at the bar in his hand. “Are you serious?”

“It’s food. I’m not making you sausage.”

“This is the worst kidnapping ever,” I pout.

“You were supposed to be dead. But since you’re not, I’m being nice by giving you anything. Eat.” He crouches in front of me and tears open the protein bar, holding it in front of my face.

Not exactly the command I was daydreaming about when he was my waiter, but given the circumstances, I think we’re headed in the right direction. I raise my brows. “Wow. Hand-feeding me? We’re moving fast.”

He rolls his eyes, clearly unamused. “I’m not uncuffing you.”

“Not until I prove to you that this really is a fantasy of mine, right? That’s what you said last night. You don’t believe that I’m serious about wanting to get facefucked by you in a bloody hockey mask.”

“I… What? No! I never said that.” He sounds horrified, but something about the way his eyes scan me curiously is so unconvincing as he continues. “And this whole thing was an accident that I’m desperately trying to deal with in a way that won’t ruin my entire life, not some dark romance fantasy or whatever the fuck you called it.”

“Uh-huh, suuure,” I agree, grinning as he still holds the bar in front of me. I lean forward as much as I can and flick the tip of the bar with my tongue and groan sensually. “Could be your dick.”

“Mason! What the fuck? Do you want the fucking bar or not? Eat it, or I’m throwing it away.”

Fuck, he doesn’t play around in the morning, so I take a bite and chew. It’s not bad, but no protein bar is actually good, and I really do need something in me if he’s going to leave me here all day.

“Can I have a sip of the coffee now, Kidnapping Daddy?” He rolls his eyes but brings the coffee to my lips as I take a sip. “Damn, that’s good. I could totally get used to you taking care of me like this.”

He continues to feed me and let me drink the coffee until both are gone. Piet’s finally made his way back downstairs and is lying beside Zane. Such a traitor.

We repeat the same awkward bathroom situation as last night, with Zane in a race with himself to get me back in the handcuffs. When I’m all settled back in the chair, he confirms everything is locked and tight.

“I’ve got to go now. Don’t try anything stupid. I’ll be back before my shift to check on you.”

8

“Hey, man? You feeling okay? I asked if you want any bananas like three times.” Grant looks me over with obvious concern.

I smile, but it feels weak even to me. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Hope it was for a fun reason,” he jokes, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Have you met anyone special here yet?”

A laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it as I picture the man with unruly, hot pink-dyed hair currently tied up in my basement. Special could be one word for him. But he’s more like absolutely insane and completely delusional if he truly wants me to do any of the things he keeps suggesting. Ugh. Why can’t I stop picturing all the things he described? And why did he call me Daddy?

I’ve never met anyone like him before. He looks so innocent with his black circle-framed glasses; it’s hard to imagine him being so fucking filthy, talking about me fucking his mouth with a mask on, but people surprise you, I suppose.

Fuck, I hate that he’s the one who wants to live out some of the kinkier fantasies I have. Even if his seem to be a bit different than mine.

“No,” I finally answer, and Grant gives me another strange look before turning back to the produce in front of us.

Ugh. I need to stop thinking about the strange man I accidentally kidnapped and focus on my best friend so he doesn’t pry any further into why I’m acting so weird today. I shouldn’t have even come. Grant and I haven’t been roommates for the last six months, why are we still shopping together? I should have canceled. But it’s Thursday, and Grant and I have grocery shopped together every Thursday morning for years, and I do need food.

I should get some stuff for Mason, actually.

Not that it matters if I feed him since I’m probably going to kill him anyway.

But… I don’t know, starving him while I figure out what exactly my plan is seems cruel. So I might as well feed him. I add a carton of eggs to my cart because that’s what he said he liked.

“Alright, now I know something’s up,” Grant insists as he stops pushing his own cart behind me. “Why are you lying about meeting someone?”

I turn back to him with a raised brow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”