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“No, don’t do that.”
“Look, how about you call me tomorrow? Put me back on speakerphone.”
“Okay. Done.”
“I’m gonna call Indie tomorrow. And if she hasn’t got back to me within twenty-four hours, I’m gonna call the police, okay?” she says though there is an entirely frivolous note to her voice which kind of dampens the threat somewhat.
“Very well,” replies Grey. “Your friend should have her voice back by then. Just about.”
My mouth unlatches in incredulity at the insinuation, and for a second I can’t tell if he means I’ll be screaming, or my throat will be otherwise engaged. I can’t deny that I've found myself irritatingly frustrated as I’ve wondered what it must be like to choke on moody prick’s cock more than once in the last few weeks.
“O-kaay, then,” sings Fran as out of the darkness, a tall wide black gate looms up before us.
As we approach, there’s a loud metallic click and the ominous gothic-looking gate slowly opens, allowing him to drive us through.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, glancing behind me at the sight of the gate shutting us in. As I turn around, my breath hitches at the sight of a huge house appearing like some ghostly apparition bathed in chartreuse light. “Oh, and it looks like we’ve made it to a house,” I add to Fran. “A big one.”
Grey ignores me utterly, parking the car in between the house and a large stone fountain.
“Um, still want rescuing?” she asks. “Because I’ll do it.”
As Grey turns off the engine and gets out, slamming his door shut, I whisper, “I’m pretty sure you should, but I don’t think my pussy would ever forgive either of us,” realizing that I’m in some whirlwind of both fear… and anticipation.
“Okay then,” she snorts. “You enjoy that punishment,” she sings, “and that dick,” she adds in a whisper.
After spending the last two nights listening to me rant ad nauseum about what a prick he is, while also waxing lyrical about what an insanely thick, long, greedy dick he has, I think Fran knows this is the kind of punishment I might not be able to say no to.
“And make sure not to forget any details of it,” she adds as Grey swings my door open. “I’ll be wanting them all.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I whisper as he leans over me, unbuckling my seatbelt, before reaching under me and lifting me out.
“Just a minute,” I protest as he places me back onto my feet and slams the door behind me, but before I can say more, he bends over, his shoulder hitting my waist.
“Hey!”
Before I know it, I’m being carried across the wide pebbled driveway over Grey’s shoulder like some freaking deer he went out and hunted and is now dragging back inside to chop up and eat.
“Put me down!” I shout, my head hanging upside down. “Who do you think you are?Thor?!”
But instead of an answer, I hear the sound of another pair of footsteps coming from the right.
Oh my God…
I turn my head to see an upside-down pair of feet in sturdy black boots walking down a path to the side of the house.
An unfamiliar voice shoots through the air like a firecracker going off. “Good evening!”
“Good evening, Stanley. We’ll be needing privacy. All weekend. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
I tilt my head up to just about make out a late-middle-aged and bespectacled man wearing a hunting jacket eyeing me curiously. As he tilts his face to the side almost as far as I do, I can just about make out a note of amusement creeping onto his weathered face.
“You must be Indigo,” he says, his voice as warm as whiskey.
Between the ridiculousness of my current upside-down predicament and the fact that he knows who I am, I feel like I could remain mute for quite some time, but instead, I manage, “Yes. Nice to meet you,” unsure if it’s possible to feel more mortified than right this second.
“Well, you two enjoy your evening.”
“We will. Goodnight, Stanley.”
