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I’ve never felt so used. But I’ve also never felt so satisfied. Only when the fog of my orgasmic high clears do I want to cry. This is it, the part where they discard me, leave me tied to the bed, and go somewhere else. Or maybe just lock me up in a basement. Either way, I’ll be alone like always. Used, discarded, and left behind.
I close my eyes and pretend to be somewhere else. Pretend that someone actually cares about me enough not to leave me.
Turning my face away, I keep my eyes closed as the guys move off the bed. I hear the door open and them moving around. I hold in my tears, wanting them to leave before I let myself sob into the pillow.
Instead of them leaving, I feel one of them moving closer. I flinch when I feel something warm between my legs. My eyes fly open and connect with Evan’s smug face.
I watch him in shock as he gently and deliberately cleans me up with a warm washcloth.
“Don’t worry, we take care of what’s ours.” He smiles and finishes cleaning me up. The warm rag slides over my sensitive skin, and he is actually careful not to hurt me as he cleans my sore pussy.
When he is satisfied with his work, he drops the washcloth next to the bed and moves me back into the center.
Mason appears at the other side of us, holding a thick comforter in his arms. “If you behave tomorrow, we’ll talk about leaving you untied, but right now, it’s safest for all of us to keep you like this.”
I simply nod, knowing that arguing won’t get me anywhere.
“Can I get some water?” I ask, looking at the bottle sitting on the nightstand.
“Sure.” Evan grabs the bottle and unscrews the cap while Mason covers me with the blanket.
Sliding his hand under my head, Evan lifts it slightly while holding the bottle to my lips. I take a few greedy gulps before shaking my head, signaling that I am done. He puts the water where it stood before and climbs back onto the bed.
Both guys spread out next to me, tucking the blanket up to my chin.
“Comfortable?” Mason asks, and all I can do is nod.
Even with my hands tied, I’ve never felt so taken care of.
They didn’t leave me. Even after they got what they wanted, they cared for me instead of leaving. How are my kidnappers better to me than my family ever was?
That’s the last thing on my mind before exhaustion finally makes me pass out.
5
MASON
One thingabout Evan and me: we learn our lesson the first time. You don’t grow up how and where we did without learning to avoid mistakes. No room for fucking off. No lapses in judgment.
Which is why I watch as Frankie uses the bathroom the morning after our three-way. “Do you need to be here for this?” She hangs her head in humiliation.
“Yeah, because otherwise, you might try to take a header out the window.” I fold my arms, leaning against the wall near the door. Truthfully, I’ve never cared much for watching a woman piss, but this is how it has to be.
“I won’t do that again.”
“So you say.” Once she’s finished, I haul her out of the room by one arm and lead her downstairs to the kitchen. Evan’s throwing a quick breakfast together. Cereal and coffee. Our go-to since neither of us knows much about cooking.
“Do you live here together?” It’s the first question she’s asked that doesn’t have to do with herself or what brought us to her. I nod before pulling out a chair and guiding her to it. “Just the two of you in this big house?”
“What about it?”
She shrugs, cheeks darkening. “I don’t know. I was just wondering. My whole apartment could fit in this kitchen.” Her eyes are wide as she curiously looks around. I have to bite back an explanation while wondering why I want to explain myself at all. She doesn’t need to know how we grew up, how when we were kids, we promised each other that we’d never be without plenty of space when we were adults.
Evan slides a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Eat,” he grunts. She grabs the spoon he’d already laid out and starts eating with her head down while the two of us drink our coffee. Neither of us needs to say it out loud, but I know we’re both thinking it. We need to figure out why we were sent to her and who we’re up against.
As usual, Evan plunges in the second she’s finished. He pushes the bowl away from her, and his sudden change of demeanor makes her sit up straighter. “Who did you piss off enough to want you dead?”
She flinches and looks away, and I know we’re on the same page. She can pretend all she wants to be innocent and sweet or whatever, but she wouldn’t have ended up on a hit list if she didn’t make the wrong move against the wrong person.
