AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Those eyes of hers flashing anger at me make me want her even more than I already do. “If I wasn’t handcuffed right now, I’d slap your face.”
“It’d be the last thing you ever do.” I don’t tolerate disrespect.
Her lips part but no retort comes back. She looks away, her face flushing deeper. I instantly regret not taking the opportunity to fuck her.
“Come on.” The moment has passed. I brush a smudge of dirt from her cheek. “Let’s get you inside.”
She lifts her wrists, cuffs glinting in the sunlight. “Are these really necessary?”
“No.”
“Then why leave them on if you’re such a big, strong man? Am I that much of a threat?”
“No.” I flash her a grin. “I leave them on ‘cause they look sexy on you.”
If looks could kill…
Holding her arm so she won’t be off balance with those pretty wrists of hers cuffed, I guide her over the stone path and up the steps to the wide wooden front door of the house. Once she’s inside, I latch and lock the deadbolt, then move around her to watch her enter the house.
Her eyes go wide as she steps into the foyer, taking in the beauty of the Scandinavian home. For a moment, she forgets we’re enemies. That I’ve just spanked her ass and played with her pussy. That she threatened to slap me.
Her sassy façade falls. “It’s beautiful.” She looks at me with awe, wondering how a lug like me could design such a breathtaking piece of architecture.
Grabbing her forearm, I pull her close, my lips brushing against the silky hair that covers her ear. Her hair smells of lavender. “I’m glad you like it ‘cause you won’t be leaving anytime soon.” Slipping the key from my pocket, I unlatch the cuffs, gently removing them from her wrists. I toss them onto a nearby chair, taking a moment to rub the soft skin of her wrists.
Shamed by my touch, she tugs her hands away, shoving them deep into the pockets of her coat as she takes a step back from me, setting her boots back to where she first stood. The belt of the quilted coat is done up around her waist, showing off her womanly shape, reminding me just how long it’s been since I had a woman within these walls. Staring at her standing there, hovering halfway between running at the door and entering the kitchen, it turns me on. My heated blood rushes up my shaft, tightening my balls till I have to shift my weight to my other foot in an attempt to ease the discomfort of my trapped, half-hard cock.
I stand there, my arms crossed over my chest, watching and waiting.
Will she try to run?
“I’m not going to run, you know,” she snaps up at me. “I’m not stupid. You’d obviously outrun me. You don’t have to push your biceps up like that to prove a point. I can do simple math. Boy works out daily. Girl is still struggling to get used to the quarter mile daily walk to the research center. Oh wait—no. No more walking because you and your friends tried to burn it down. Didn’t you. Killing a harmless man in the process.”
I wasn’t expecting the brave monologue she just delivered, but I can only focus on one word. “Harmless?” Again, like with the murder of the girlfriend, she accuses me of things she knows nothing about.
She takes a step toward me. “I won’t run now. But I’ll be keeping my eyes open. I’ll get my opportunity. Just you wait.”
“Not really that smart, telling your captor your plans to escape,” I say. “Just makes me that much more vigilant.”
She gives a huff, clearly dismissing me. “Regardless of either one of our plans, we have to eat, don’t we? I skipped lunch and it’s almost time for dinner. Hungry?” She moves past me, entering the kitchen.
Always. “Aye.”
She takes a seat at the bar, slipping into one of the bar height leather chairs. Resting on her freshly spanked ass, a hiss leaves her lips. She pops right back up.
Wandering the kitchen, she runs her fingers over the glossy wood countertops. I can tell she’s pleased by the clean, bright space, her mouth almost a smile as she shrugs out of her coat and boots. Neatly setting her boots side by side under the bar, she stands, folding her jacket over the back of the seat.
“I love your design.” Her gaze rests on the midnight-blue six-burner gas stove. “You mind if I give this thing a test run?”
I’m floored by the request. My captive should be balled up on the couch, crying, plotting her escape. Or at least pouting about her spanking. Not falling into the role of homemaker. Before I can answer, she’s opening my fridge, evaluating my shopping.
Unsure what to do with myself, I run a hand over the back of my neck, watching as she pulls ingredients from the fridge and cupboards. Chicken, broccoli, garlic, penne pasta, milk, butter, flour, cream, seasoning. Not wanting to let her out of my sight, I settle onto a stool, pretending to gaze at my phone while I watch her cook.
The kitchen quickly fills with the smells and sounds of good cooking. While she cooks, she peppers me with questions as she peppers her chicken.
“So, why Clive? What did he do to you guys?”
I bristle at her interrogation. “Clive, like you, was warned.”
