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“That car? So it’s not yours.” She crossed her arms and glared. “Who are you really? And what is this place? Why do you care if I was stealing a car that’s not yours?”
For a long moment, he just stared at her. Was he considering telling her the truth or deciding how best to dispose of her body? Anxiety made her stomach roll but she managed to keep her composure.
Pull it together, Addison. Being badass mostly consisted of faking self-confidence, right?
Finally, he gestured to the door and said, “You’re not confined. It’s unlocked. You can leave anytime.”
“Great.” She stood up, ignoring how shaky her knees were, and the head rush that sent pain spiking through her skull. Was this a trick? Was there a giant on the other side of the door with brass knuckles and a love for making girls scream? And not in the consensual way.
Keeping her gaze on him, she walked to the door and grabbed her things off the table. She caught a glimpse of her key-matching device in her purse and was glad he hadn’t decided to keep it. Or break it. It’d been a bitch scavenging the parts to make it work.
After she shoved her wallet and car keys back in her bag, she paused with her hand on the doorknob. Something stopped her, made her reconsider leaving. Curiosity? An irrational sense of adventure? She should probably run as fast as she could away from this kinky basement and her sexy nameless captor. It would be crazy not to, wouldn’t it? Sure, danger and kinky sex were hot, but so were consent and a trustworthy partner. Why did she have the urge to stay and find out more about him?
Before she could turn the knob, he said from behind her, “How are you going to get home?”
Shit. “Um. Walk?”
“We’re miles from the city.”
She turned to face him. “You brought me here. You should have the decency to pay for a cab.”
“Like you have the decency to leave people’s cars on the side of the highway?”
“Oh shut up. I know you’re not the morality police so quit acting like it.”
His lips pressed together as though he was holding back a smile. Then he sighed and reached behind her to open the door. With his body so close to hers, she caught his scent. Soap and leather, like the room only stronger, sexier.
“Come on,” he said, ushering her through the door. “I’ll drive you home.”
She stopped in the threshold. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
She threw her hands up in the air, frustrated. “You went through the trouble of bringing me all the way here. You only asked me a few questions. I didn’t even tell you my real name. I’m obviously unscrupulous. Why are you letting me go?”
He chuckled. “Unscrupulous? I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone use that word out loud.”
“It’s a perfectly good word.”
“I doubt someone who was really unscrupulous would use it.”
“That’s narrow-minded. Criminals can be smart.”
“You’re no criminal.”
She scoffed, offended for some reason. “I just stole a car. What would you call me then?” It struck her just how silly this conversation was. She was defending her right to be called a criminal. As if she cared what he thought. As if she wanted to be considered a criminal!
He leaned close, smirking. His eyes lit up with amusement and a small fire started in her belly. Voice gravelly, he nearly whispered, “You’re a little girl playing a dangerous game.”
Damn him. Making her angry and turned on all at once wasn’t playing fair. The internal conflict didn’
t leave her with any witty retorts. She swallowed hard, trying to clear her foggy head. How could such a cocky jackass be so sexy? But she couldn’t help it, he had “her type” written all over him—other than the kidnapping part. Tall, tattooed, and dangerous. And apparently kinky. And if he was offering her a ride home instead of taking advantage of her he obviously wasn’t the creepy kind of dangerous.
Shit. Her libido whirled out of control. She flipped between wanting to smack him and wanting to kiss him. When she tried to give her head a shake, it throbbed with pain. Suppressing a groan, she pushed past him toward the stairs. She couldn’t trust her vocal cords to work, so she pretended to stomp away. Only her stomp was more like a wobbly walk.
