“I think it’s the voicing it out loud part that makes you an asshole.”
“Guilty.”
She slumps in her seat.
“I don’t have an answer for you, but for now, we stay here. For now, this is the safest place in the city. Okay?”
She looks at me, and though she doesn’t say, I know what she’s thinking. She’s wondering how safe she is from me while we’re locked in here together.
Truth be told, I’m wondering the same fucking thing.
I give her my bed again, without the ropes and binds this time. I stalk back over to my couch in the living room, pulling off my t-shirt on the way over. And I’m shrugging my pants off when I hear her peep from across the room. I grin.
“Yes?”
I turn and she’s fastidiously looking away.
“Something catch your eye, princess?”
I run my fingers through my hair, standing there grinning at her in just my damn boxers. I’m teasing her, and I shouldn’t be, but I also don’t really give a shit.
“No.”
I chuckle to myself. I like that me in my underwear catches her off guard. Let her look, at the muscles, the scars, the tattoo ink.
I like flustering her.
“If you feel like a closer look, you know which bunk is mine.”
“I don’t,” she says sharply.
I grin as I turn to the bathroom.
Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot.
What the fuck am I stoking this fire for? “Flustering” her? Teasing her?
I need to stop this. No - no teasing her, like we’re kids on a fucking playground. No trying to rile her up, like this is some sort of office flirtation.
This is strictly hands off, and strictly untouchable, and I need to strictly fucking remember that.
I’m still telling myself all these things as I step into the bathroom, and close the door. I’m still trying to convince myself that I’m able to stop lusting over this hot young thing in my bed - the one wearing an old pair of my boxers and a white undershirt that’s been showing me her fucking nipples all goddamn night.
And I’m pretty sure my telling myself that I’m stronger than this is starting to work when my eyes drop to the doorknob of the closed bathroom door.
…And the pair of little, red, lace, thong panties hanging on it.
My cock throbs.
It’s like waving a red flag at a bull. It’s like in cartoons, where the fucking rabbit jumps up and howls and his heart goes thumping out of his chest.
I reach out, and I snatch them off the doorknob before I know what I’m doing.
Fuck.
I groan, feeling my cock pulse rock hard in my boxers. It’s like a spell. It’s like all the things I’ve told myself all night go right out the window as I trace my fingers over the silky edge of those little panties that were pressed up against her tight little pussy.
Jesus Christ.
I groan as I reach down, my hand absently cupping and squeezing my cock. My muscles tense and I wrap my fingers around myself through the cotton, stroking my cock as run my fingers over the panties.
“I don’t suppose kidnappers have spare toothbrush-”
The door flings open and she comes flying into me, gasping as my hands go around her. I fall back against the sink counter, this sweet little angel in my arms and her soft belly pressed right against my throbbing, rock hard cock.
Sierra gasps, her eyes dragging up to me, her lips parted, her eyes wide.
She swallows heavily, her pulse beating like a drum in the hollow of her neck.
“I- I mean, I was looking for a toothbrush,” she whispers.
She shifts, and I know she feels me against her body.
“I- a toothbrush,” she says quietly.
“You said that.”
“I should have knocked.”
“You should have.”
She’s not pulling away, and she’s not screaming.
She’s just panting, her face red and her eyes locked onto mine.
“Should have knocked,” I growl, my hands moving to her hips on instinct.
“I know,” she pants.
I can see the flush across her chest and her cheeks, her nipples poking right through that undershirt. I bring my hand up and slide it into her hair, tangling my fingers in it.
I pull on it, and she gasps as I tilt her head back, her eyes flashing fire and her lips parting.
“I-”
“This you still trying to be a bad girl?”
She whimpers, and I swear to fucking God, her body presses tighter to mine. Her hands tighten on my chest, fingers dragging over my skin.
“Or maybe,” I growl, tugging her hair. “Maybe you just wanna be my bad girl.”
She moans.
This girl fucking moans, and it’s the last thing I can take.
This time, I kiss her.
Hard.
And unlike the bar, this time, I’m not going to let her go until I take what I want.