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“What are you gonna do, Brax?” she taunts. “Leave me chained to a radiator while you wait for your next order?”
“Shut up,” I warn, feeling rage building up inside me. Nothing good ever came out of provoking me.
“No, I won’t shut up. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me.”
“Shut up,” I warn again, tightening the hold I got on her neck. I can feel my restraint slipping.
“Make me… do your worst.” She pushes me to the fucking limit and I shut her the fuck up in the only way I can think how to.
I slam my mouth over hers and crush her in my hand, I expect a fucking fight, or at least a struggle, but instead she opens up her lips and welcomes me. I lose myself for a few seconds, my body pressing tighter into hers and my arm wrapping around her waist, fisting at the shirt she’s wearing and keeping her close. While my tongue invades her mouth and I devour the fuck out of her lips.
My cock throbs in the space between her legs and I have to stop before I take anymore of her. Gotta rein back some fucking control over this situation. Dragging my mouth away from hers, I hear her terrified scream fill my ears when all my frustration goes to my fist and I force it into the mirror behind her head. It shatters to pieces, and the petrified look on her face does fuck all to ease the irritation inside me.
I need to get the fuck away from this bitch, she’s testing my patience. I may not be the one wearing the cuffs in this situation, but I’m every bit as fucking trapped as she is.
“You got five minutes,” I tell her, pulling away and charging out of the door. I slam it behind me, then kick my boot at it. Losing my temper in front of her like that allowed her to see that she’s getting to me. And now I’ve finally provoked that fear I wanted out of her, all I can think about is going back in there and fucking fixing it for her.
I’m losing my damn mind.
I distract myself by pulling some of the glass shards out of my knuckles. I know she ain't going nowhere, I spent some time yesterday boarding up the windows. Her room and the bathroom are now secure thanks to some tools and scrap material I found in the garage.
She comes out about ten minutes later, with my shirt back on, using a towel to dry the wet hair hanging over her shoulders.
“I used the toiletries,” she tells me as she struts past me toward the kitchen. “I hope the toothbrush wasn’t yours.”
Letting out a frustrated breath, I follow her. This little act she’s pulling is ballsy as fuck and starting to piss me off.
I much prefer her helpless and screaming.
She strokes the dog as she passes him on her way to the fridge, then pulls out the eggs that I brought from the store, and some of the leftover ham from the sandwich I made her the night before last.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shocked by her sudden confidence.
“I’m making myself breakfast, you want something too?” She's already using a fork to whisk up some eggs in a bowl. And when I look down at Duke, who has taken a space by the back door, I roll my eyes at him before taking a seat at the table.
Watching her move around the kitchen, wearing my shirt and acting as if I didn’t just fucking kiss her, makes it hard for me to stay on guard. I have to keep in mind that she could bolt any second, yet all I seem to be focusing on right now is how easily my cock could access her if I bent her over the kitchen counter.
Reaching up on her toes, she stretches her body to get two glasses from the top cupboard, then she rinses them out before filling them with water. I watch her throat move as she sips it down. My cock swelling even bigger, and my fingers pulsing to touch her there again. She smiles at me, like she can read the thoughts in my head, and places the other full glass in front of me before getting back to the stove.
“So?” She lands the plated omelet in front of me, then serves one up for herself and takes the seat opposite. “I need to know what you and this Prez guy have planned for me.” She speaks calmly as she digs her fork into her food. Like she’s the one in control here.
I should never have fucking kissed her.
“Why would I tell you that?” I take a mouthful myself, the eggs are fluffy and of course fucking delicious.
“So I can prepare myself.” She shrugs. “Have you contacted Julian for ransom yet? Because if you have, you’re wasting your time. I’m way richer than him.” She smiles, sliding the fork back between her lips to suck it clean. I’m guessing Julian is the fucker I saw back at her house and I choose to ignore the sting of envy that causes, and quickly move on.
“I don’t think you’re here for ransom,” I admit.
“Sorry, I forgot, the bad guy doesn’t know why he took the pretty rich girl.” Her eyes roll, and I swear to god she’s purposely trying to provoke another reaction from me. What the fuck has happened to the scared girl I left in the bathroom?
“You know what, I’m just as curious as you are. Why don’t you tell me why you think you’re here?” I suggest, slouching back in my chair.
“I just did, it’s because of my parent’s money. It has to be.”
“It’s not about the money. We don’t make money outta hurting women and children.” I don’t miss the little glint of worry that returns to her eyes.
“So why am I the exception?” She bites her lip, probably out of concern, but she's doing a great job of making it look seductive.
