Greg was thinking he was the luckiest son of a bitch alive as his mind automatically readjusted his earlier imaginings of a large, ugly woman stripping and climbing on top of him. to this woman doing so. He allowed himself to enjoy the fantasy for a moment, but then realized that his body was enjoying it way too much, a noticeable bulge was growing in his pants. He gave his head a shake. As delightful as a night as this woman's sex slave might be, he had plans—a trip full of sandy beaches, palm trees, and half-naked women gyrating on a dance floor. And it was already paid for.
Now… if after his trip this woman wanted to go on a date in the normal way, then tie him to a bed and have her way with him… Well, Greg liked to consider himself an obliging sort. Besides, in this case, he thought being a sex slave might not be so bad. Realizing his thoughts were wandering into areas better left alone for now, Greg gave himself a mental kick and forced a stern look to his face. "Kidnapping is illegal."
Her eyebrows rose. "Did Mom kidnap you?"
"Not exactly," he admitted, recalling how he'd climbed into the trunk under his own impetus. Kidnapping generally required being forcibly taken away. Greg supposed he could have lied; however, he was a poor liar. "But I don't want to be here, and really I don't have any idea why I climbed into the trunk of your mother's car. It seemed the most natural thing to do at the time, but I've never…"'
Greg's voice trailed away as he realized that the blonde wasn't listening to him. At least, she didn't appear to be. She was staring at his head with concentration and a deepening frown. She was also moving closer to the bed, though he suspected it was a subconscious action. She seemed wholly concentrated on his hair, but then she shook her head with apparent frustration, and muttered, "I can't read your mind."
"You can't read my mind?" Greg echoed slowly.
She shook her head.
"I see… and… er… is that a problem?" he queried. "I mean, can you usually read people's minds?"
She nodded, but it was an absent action, her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
Greg tried to ignore the disappointment suddenly pinching at him as he acknowledged that the woman was mad, or at least delusional if she thought she could read minds. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The mother couldn't exactly be normal, or she wouldn't allow strange men to climb into her trunk—for she'd been behind him and had to have seen him climb in. Anyone else would have run screaming for building security instead of taking him home with her.
It seemed madness was running rampant tonight. The first example had been his behavior, then the brunette's, and now the blonde thought she could read minds. It made him wonder if there wasn't some sort of citywide madness occurring. Perhaps men all around Toronto were climbing into trunks and letting themselves be tied to beds. Perhaps it was some sort of drug released into the city's water reservoir; a terrorist plot to incapacitate the men in Canada.
On the other hand, perhaps this was all just a weird dream, and he was really still at his desk at work, head down and sound asleep. Greg decided that was the most likely possibility. It provided a most satisfactory explanation of his own inexplicable behavior in getting himself here. Of course, none of that really mattered. Asleep or awake, mad or not, he was here, and even if it was a dream, he wanted to get himself home. He had a flight to catch.
"Listen, if you could just untie me, I promise I'll forget all about this. I won't bring in the authorities or anything."
"The authorities?" the blonde echoed. "You mean like the police?" She seemed startled at the prospect, as if it hadn't occurred to her.
"Well, yeah," Greg said with a frown. "Okay, so I came here apparently willingly enough," he admitted reluctantly. "But now I want to go home, and if you don't untie me, it's forcible confinement, and that's a criminal offense."
Lissianna began to gnaw on her lower lip. She'd tried to slip into the man's thoughts to soothe and control him as she'd done earlier with Dwayne, as her mother should have done before leaving him, but she couldn't get into his thoughts. It was as if there were an impenetrable wall around his mind, and while she'd heard of this, she'd never run across it herself. Lissianna had never met a mortal she couldn't read and control. Though she had run across individuals she found it difficult to read and control. Usually, that difficulty eased or disappeared altogether once she was feeding on them.
She tilted her head and eyed her gift, debating whether to try feeding off him to make it easier to slip into his thoughts and soothe him. The only problem was that if she couldn't slip into his thoughts even a little, Lissianna wouldn't be able to keep him from experiencing the pain when her teeth first sank into his neck. Unless…