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I struggle to pull my arm from his grasp, and he pinches harder, forcing tears of pain from my eyes.
“You’re a control freak asshole.”
“Oh, I’m much worse than that.” He grins at me. “And that’s what you love about me.”
I won’t dignify that with an answer. Because I’m afraid it’s true.
He keeps an iron grip on my arm as we climb into the back seat. The man behind the wheel either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. We drive toward a huge wooden gate, which slides open to let us in. As the gate slides shut behind us, he loosens his grip a little but never lets go of me—punishment for my defiance.
Behind the gate is an enormous, sprawling Spanish-style hacienda with dull tan stucco walls and brown barrel tiles on the roof. The landscaping is suitable to the desert location; more of those scrubby mesquite trees, cacti in barrel planters, big round rocks, ground cover of some kind of green succulents.
The front door is at least eight feet tall, made of steel, arch-shaped. Joshua ushers me inside, fingers poking my back.
There are red clay-tiled floors and decorations with a southwestern theme. More cacti in big round barrel planters, woven baskets on the floor, rugs with the geometric southwestern motif in tones of brown and turquoise. There are some beautiful woven tapestries on the walls, and the furniture is wood and leather. Side tables and shelves hold painted clay vases.
It looks like a designer showcase home, but it lacks any personal touches. When I think back on it, Joshua’s house in Maine was the same way. Pretty on the outside, but with an artificial, not quite real feel to it.
Like Joshua, most of the time.
The door slams shut behind us, and I jump.
A feeling of claustrophobia squeezes the breath from my body. It’s the same feeling that drove me mad when I was trapped in Joshua’s house before. Knowing I could never step outside those four walls made me feel as if I were wrapped in a straightjacket and stuffed into a very small closet. It didn’t matter how luxurious my surroundings were; I would rather have lived in a filthy hut with a door that I could actually open.
I stare at the huge, solid door in front of me. “Am I confined to the house?” My voice rises in hysteria, despite myself. I can’t live like that again.I can’t, I won’t.
“No, but we’re a long, long way from anywhere. If you managed to escape, you’d die of starvation and dehydration long before you were found.”
I spin around to face Joshua, burning with desperation. “So I can walk out that front door if I want to?”
He shrugs. “Go ahead.”
I walk over to the door and grab the knob…and the handle turns. I pull it open. When I look out the front door, I see the dry landscape in front of me, then the high walls beyond the broad stretch of xeriscaping, but at least I have the freedom to open the damn door. I step outside and walk down the front steps to see what Joshua will do.
I stand there for a minute, with the mild breeze flowing over my face, then walk back inside, shutting the door behind me.
“Happy?” Joshua arches an eyebrow
“That’s not how I would describe my current emotional state.” I tilt my head back and stare up into his ice-blue eyes. I refuse to blink. “I told you what I want, and you’re not respecting it.”
“Let’s see. You want me to leave you out there unprotected, so my brother can very easily snatch you up and kidnap you again and slowly roast you to death on a spit over an open fire. You want to pretend you don’t crave me every second of the day. You want to throw tantrums and act like a spoiled little brat who doesn’t appreciate the things I do for you.” His voice is knife-edge sharp. “Have I just about covered it?”
My face grows hot with anger. “I’d like you to take me to my room,” I say tightly.
“When I’m ready,” he says with maddening calm.
“You may be underestimating me, Joshua. How do you know I won’t kill you in your sleep?” I snap at him.
He smiles. “I’d love it if you tried.”
Will he ever take me seriously? I turn to storm away, and he grabs me from behind, spins me to face him, and wraps his arms around me.
“I’m not done with you yet. I haven’t seen you in a long time, and we’re going to spend some time together.”
I wriggle in his arms, but he’s caged me in. He’s rock-hard, the thickness of his cock pressing into my stomach.
“Why are you fighting this?” His eyes meet mine and hold me captive.
Frustration surges through me. It’s so hard trying to have a normal conversation with a man who had all semblance of humanity beaten out of him as a child. “How could you possibly ask me that?”
