Total D*ck(62)

“What?” he repeated, and licked along my shoulder.

“Wait.” I put my hands on his cheeks and brought his face to mine. “I’m not being fair. I want to be here, in this moment with you, but I can’t. I’m too . . .” I sighed. “I’m too scared. It’s not right.”

I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move.

He tilted his head. “You’re scared, huh?”

“Yes.” Unease washed over me at the playful tone in his voice.

“Want me to tell you something to make you feel better?” He smiled.

“You could do that?”

“I could. Yes. I could tell you that you’re safe and that nothing is going to happen to you. And that I believe everything you’ve said. How about that?”

I pushed harder and tried to scoot out from under him. He gripped my wrists and pinned me, a cruel smile turning his lips.

“I know what you’re up to. You have a mic in here somewhere? You want me to say things?”

My heart sank and fear rose in its place. “No.”

“You do. I know you do. That’s okay. I’ll find it. But first, you and I are going to have a little fun. Then I’ll take care of you so that you’re never scared again. You follow?”

I inhaled to scream, but he clapped a hand over my mouth. Where is Carey?

I hit his ribs with my free hand, but he pinned my arm to my side with his elbow.

He leaned into my ear and whispered, “I already told my squad you’re here. They’re waiting in the lobby to come up here and finish you once I’m done.”

Real tears seeped from my eyes and ran down to the bedspread. Something was wrong. Carey should have been here by now.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? How many times you’ve ignored me, only to let that piece-of-shit Kennedy fuck you?” He squeezed my wrist hard, pain searing up my arm.

I shook my head and tried to buck him, but he’d settled on top of me like lead.

“I would have treated you so good. You wouldn’t have been hurt. But no. You fucked up and opened your legs for him instead of me. I’m going to remedy that right now. It’s going to be a great night . . . for me, anyway.” He leered at me and shoved his thigh between my legs. “And when I’m done with you, I’m going to find Kennedy and Carey.” He looked around, raising his eyebrows in a thoughtful expression. “I hope you set it up for video. I’d really like to show them what we do together before they join you at the bottom of the Gulf.”

I screamed, but the sound made it no farther than his palm.

A knock at the door turned his head. “Do not disturb,” he called.

I struggled beneath him, but he only moved his hand up so it covered my nose and my mouth, cutting off my air.

The knock came again and a woman’s voice with it. “We have the champagne you ordered.”

“Leave it by the door.”

I tried to turn my head to dislodge his hand, but he let my wrist go and gripped my hair, keeping me still as he suffocated me.

“I can’t do that, sir. Against hotel policy.”

“Then take it back. I don’t want it.”

“Sir. I’m not allowed to do that either. It’s already paid for.”

My vision began to dim as I fought for air that wasn’t coming.

“Keep it, give it away, I don’t care.”

A brief pause, then, “Sir, I’m sorry, but that’s against policy, too. I’m just trying to do my job here.”

“Fuck.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, flicking out the blade and locking it in place before pressing it to my throat. “Let’s go answer the door.”





Chapter Eighteen


Kennedy

The garage door closed, and the house fell silent. I’d been an idiot, but any man would have been an idiot with a woman like Scarlett wearing black lingerie. The thought curdled in my mind, because she intended to let Eric get a look. If Eric even showed. He could send killers in his place. She hadn’t listened to any of my warnings. Instead, she and Carey had decided to handle it on their own.

I yanked at the rope, but it held fast. Whatever knot Carey had taught Scarlett wasn’t the half-assed kind I knew about.

“Fuck!” I yelled and kicked my legs out of sheer frustration, as if that would help. It didn’t. But it didn’t matter. I would rip the rope apart thread by thread if I had to, if that was the way to get to Scarlett.

I studied the threads around my left wrist. She’d tied it just tight enough that I couldn’t shimmy out of it, but it didn’t cut off my circulation. Same for the right wrist. I scooted up the bed so my back was against the pipe headboard. Pushing back against it, I tested to see if it had any give. None. I suspected some of the pipe was original to the warehouse and ran down to the first floor and then into the ground. And, of course, I was tied to the original fucking pipes.