Cue much guffawing and description of brain splatter. Ah, but they were witty tools. She kept her face calm, slack and made a list in her head of her favorite books, in alphabetical order by author surname. When Nick shot her a look she ignored him. Atwood, Austen, Bronte, Byatt … who else?
Justin smirked. “If I had to hear about his poor wife and kids back home one more time I was going to do it myself.”
Nick was just playing a part. She had to trust him. He didn’t mean it. They were going to get out of this and all would be awesome. It would.
She sat beside him on a battered old yellow lounge, his big hand curved over her knee. The army rations from dinner churned in her belly. If she could make it through the night without puking, she’d be doing well. Everything about this nauseated her. Evil emanated off these two as badly as their BO. Only Nick’s presence held them back for now, but that wouldn’t last. Pete and Justin had taken him aside for a word earlier. She didn’t even want to know what had been said. Well, she did, but she didn’t. Lecherous Neil from school looked like child’s play compared to these two. The air of menace in the dingy little lounge room was as palpable as the heat from the blazing fire, singeing the ceiling.
Her gun stayed tucked in her belt. Her back ached where it dug into her spine, but no way would she remove it.
“Time for bed, hey?” Nick gave her knee a squeeze and stood.
“What, already?” Pete said, then leered at her with a grin a hundred dentists couldn’t have helped. “Can’t say I blame ya.”
“See you in the morning, boys.” Nick winked and led her toward one of the bedrooms. The one furthest from where the bodies had been found.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Justin croaked around a cloud of smoke and passed the joint back his friend.
Nick chuckled.
Her shoulders crept higher and higher.
The door clicked shut behind them and he set the torch on the floor. There was a dingy old double bed and a motorbike, laid out in parts on a layer of newspapers to protect the carpet. Considering it had been worn bare, she couldn’t see the point. Nick grabbed the chair from in front of a desk and jammed it under the door handle, checking it twice.
“They’ve given me tonight to talk you around. I’ve got a plan.” He touched her arm and she skipped back a step.
“Ros.”
“Just … give me a minute here.”
“No. Listen to me.” He reached for her and she reacted without thought. The flat of her palm smacked into his cheek. Her hand stung. Nick just stared at her.
“Shit,” she whispered.
He looked every bit as stunned as she felt. He blinked at her again and again. His cheek was dark in the low light. Fuck, she’d actually hit him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Then he really grabbed her. His hands wrapped around her upper arms and he pulled her in tight against him. Her breasts were mashed up against his chest and his mouth covered hers in a brutally hard kiss. One hand squeezed her ass while the other held the back of her neck. He wasn’t gentle. But neither was she. Fear and anger fueled them both.
He fucked her mouth with his tongue. There was no other word for it. Fingers dug into her, holding her against him. She bit at him, or tried to. So mad, nothing made sense. The things he’d said, the words were a jumble in her head. She just wanted to hurt him. The way he’d talked about other women made her bloodthirsty. If she could have, she’d have crawled beneath his skin and done him damage from the inside out.
She tore at the button on his jeans, the zip, shoved the denim down over his hips. Her fingernails scratched at his hips and flat stomach. Beneath his hot skin, his muscles flinched. He groaned into her mouth.
Fuck yes, she wanted to mark him. Needed to.
When she slid her hand into his boxers and pressed her fingernails into the shaft of his cock, however, he stopped her quick smart. He grunted, grabbed her wrist and spun her, pushing her onto her stomach, onto the mattress. The air rushed out of her with an oomph. Her feet barely touched the ground. The spare reading glasses in her shirt pocket pressed into her. His hands dug beneath her, undoing her jeans and tearing them down her legs. They shackled her knees. He threw her gun onto the mattress beside her, but she didn’t want to shoot him. Beat at him with her hands though, yes. She tried to get up and fight back, but she couldn’t. Strong hands pulled her back until she was half standing, bent over the bed with her legs spread.
Without a word he shoved his cock into her, driving her forward onto the mattress.
Oh, shit. She wasn’t ready. Pain tripped through her and a high, hurt noise escaped her.