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“Don’t what?” He pulls back, his brow creased.
I whisper the words. “Don’t kiss me.”
He looks down at me with those deep brown eyes, demanding more words from me.
“The other stuff, you’ve already done. You’ve punished me… but…” The words are silly, babyish, lame, but I force myself to say them anyway. “I’ve never been kissed before and… my first kiss…” I shake my head, my voice trembling. “It shouldn’t be like this.”
“Fair enough. Fuck.” He studies my face a moment. His gaze lowers to the floor, then drags back up to mine. He makes his decision, giving a nod. He turns on a bootheel, facing away from me. When he turns back to me, he’s calm, cool, and collected once more. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Relief washes through me, but on its edges lies a hint of disappointment. Did I want this man to kiss me?
He gives a growl, running a hand through his thick hair as he mutters, more to himself than me, “What the hell am I doing? I never mess with employees.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’m grateful for the job even though my interview ended in torture. Trying to be helpful, I offer, “Technically, I’m not yours till tomorrow.”
He glances at me. “True.”
The sound of a bell rings through the room.
Already on edge, I startle at the noise. “What’s that?”
He walks to the drawer as if he needs space between us. His bootsteps sound heavier than before. Frustrated almost. He drops the remote inside. “Dinner.”
“At ten at night?” Living with Nonna, I’m used to having dinner before the evening news comes on.
“Why not? We start late around here. Well, the fun starts late. My day begins with the sun.”
For a moment he just stands there, his back facing me. I take in the beauty of his silhouette, his height, the way the fabric of his shirt pulls across his broad shoulders. I watch as he runs a hand through his dark hair once more.
He’s contemplating something.
What to do with me?
I glance at the toys hanging from the wall. They look…sting-y.My stomach flips.
He catches me staring.
Those eyes hold mine.
What is he going to do with me?
His voice fills the room once more, making my knees go weak.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
Hungry? Of all the plans he might have for me…
Relief and confusion intermingle. Is that what he was deciding? Whether to feed me? This man has me chained to a wall and now asks me if I’m hungry as casually as if we’re acquaintances on a lunch break. But I take stock of my nervous body and realize I can’t remember the last time I ate.
His bootsteps return quieter than they left me. As he gets closer, I feel my temperature rising. He stops a respectful distance away. “What’s it going to be, kid. You want to dine with us or not?”
This is crazy. What am I even doing here, chained to this wall? I should go home. But…
I am hungry. And I find this man… captivating. “Um… okay? I guess?”
“Great. I’ll have someone come get you prepared.”
“Prepared?” I give a choked laugh. “Am I the dinner?”
