I don’t respond to his question, afraid that it will come out as a moan. Instead, I get out of bed and head straight to the bathroom as I listen to his laughter.
“You can’t hide from it, Piccolo.” His voice has an amusement to it that hadn’t been there yesterday. I sit on the toilet to take care of my business. I am afraid he will come barging in, but also believe he might actually respect my privacy. One can’t tell with him.
“My dick calls to you…” Now he is just being an ass. A smile pulls at my lips, though. As fucked up as all this is, and it is all kinds of fucked up, it’s nice to smile just a little bit, even if I have no clue what will happen to me today since I’m staying with someone who points a gun at people more than he talks.
I wipe, flush, and wash my hands before actually taking a look at myself in the mirror. I feel fine though my cheeks are lightly flushed. My eyes are a warm brown, shining back at me. My hair needs some serious taming, but other than that, I don’t look as if I have been taken by a mafia king into an unknown evil land. The fact that he is still out there, probably naked, reminds me that I should talk to him about getting me some birth control. The man can get me pregnant with one look.
I come out of the bathroom, peeking around the corner, waiting for him to jump out at me. When I spot him sitting at his desk with a pair of jeans on, I sigh in relief.
I tip-toe across the floor, hoping that he is engrossed in his mafia business oo much to care what I am doing.
“Come here, Piccolo,” he says sternly. I stop dead in my tracks before turning around to face him. His hair is a mess, water droplets still clung to it, but his face looks less dark though he still seems to have an edge to him. His demeanor seems to warn if you get too close, he will cut you straight down the middle.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, proceeding toward him with caution. He watches every step I take, his eyes going from my feet to the top of my head.
“It doesn’t matter what it means.” I can tell he isn’t going to answer me, so I let it go.
“Then don’t call me that. My name is Bree,” I retort. For some unknown reason, I find my voice. I don’t want to be that weak girl that cowers in the corner because she is scared. I need to deal with the situation. That’s what my momma would have told me to do, grab the bull by its horns.
“I will call you whatever the fuck I want. Now drop your pants and panties and sit on the edge of the desk.” His finger points to the exact location my butt cheeks need to be. Instead of doing as he wants me to do, I glare at him, willing ice daggers to come out of my eyes and stab him.
“No,” I say in the same cold tone he had given me. A fire ignites in his eyes, and I wonder if that’s what gets him off—killing people and sex.
“No?” he questions, eyebrow raised.
“No. As in N.O.,” I repeat again, spelling it out for him in case he isn’t aware. I don’t want to have sex with him, not yet. Not that there is shit I can do about it. I will still try, though.
“Okay…” he says smiling. It is a dazzling one, you know, the kind that makes you go all weak in the knees? Yeah, that one. I am so caught up that I don’t notice his body moving, or that he is within a breath’s distance from grabbing me. Picking me up, he pulls my pants and panties down to my ankles and places my ass on the cold wood of his desk.
“No!” I shriek out, holding my legs together. If he wants something from me, he will have to take it because I am not giving him anything.
He smiles again, pulling my pants and panties from my ankles so my legs can be moved freely.
“Yes,” he growls his hands gripping my upper thighs.
“No,” I counter back with the same amount of intensity. “I refuse to have sex with you.”
His hands skim up my thighs and up my stomach until one is tilting my chin up to him, and the other is playing with a lock of my hair.
“I won’t fuck you yet,” he says softly, his breath tickling my face, and it is then when we are nose to nose that I can really see gold flakes in his eyes. They almost make him look like a lion.
“What will you do then?” I am not naïve. I am young, still very much a virgin, but I am not stupid. I have made out with boys and let them feel me up, but it never went as far as I am now—naked from the waist down.
“I need to release some tension and instead of calling a high-class whore I figured I have you here, so why not use you…” Use me. The words make acid build up in my stomach. He leans forward, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
A spark of pain and pleasure shoots straight to my core. He is fire to my insides, igniting something inside of me that I have never felt before, even though it feels wrong and being used is something I don’t want. His lips feel right. His hands on me feel right. Our hearts beating as one feels even more right.