Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I glance over my shoulder, unsurprised that she’s now dressed.
I took the towel because I own it. I’ll have to think of other ways to get her naked.
My best bet is to run her off, make leaving her choice, despite being the one to make that option more appealing than what it means she’ll have to do if she stays.
I turn toward the window when she disappears into the bathroom, wondering how unethical it would be to be retroactive. She used the shower, ate cereal, and used the washer and dryer. Could I make her stay naked for an entire day to repay that debt she owes me?
She seems fine when speaking of her family allowing others to cater to them in return for paying off a debt. If it’s okay for them, it should be okay for me as well.
A sinister smile crosses my face as I imagine all the things I should be paid back for and wondering how far I can push her until she leaves.
Chapter 18
Madelene
I can’t help the growl that rumbles out of my throat.
My mother always warned me to get better control of my attitude. She told me countless times it would get me in more trouble than I could handle.
“You can’t be serious,” I say, my eyes darting from his to the bag of food on the table.
He shrugs. “You have a choice.”
My mouth waters as I watch him pull the burgers and fries from the bag.
He left the house, and for some reason, I stayed here. I could’ve easily walked right out the front door, but this isn’t exactly a normal kidnapping if any kidnapping could be called normal. I don’t have a family out looking for me because they care for me. There are no pleas broadcasted for my safe return. I want to stay hidden from those searching for me as much as they want to find me.
“It’s not much of a choice,” I argue.
“But it is a choice.
“Get naked or don’t eat?”
“See?” he says, a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes spreading across his face. “Two choices.”
I cross my arms over my chest, but he seems more interested in the food than me as I stand there staring at him.
“Are you hungry?”
The scent of greasy food meets my nose when he unwraps one of the burgers. My mouth waters at the sight of the cheese clinging to the wrapper.
“Are you serious?”
“You can suck me off or stay dressed.”
His eyes lift to mine, and I know better than to question if he’s joking again.
His offer is to either get naked and eat or stay clothed and starve.
If I press too much, he may actually change the terms to something I couldn’t live with.
“You’re a pervert,” I mutter, wondering when he’ll turn violent like Alessio and Marcello did. I suspect that all men are like that when whittled down to their innermost reactions.
He shrugs, not confirming or denying my accusation.
I shift on my feet, but I know what my response is going to be. I hate that I’ve been reduced to this, that fear has transformed me into someone willing to get naked for food. I tell myself it’s for my survival, that I’m not whoring myself out for a cheeseburger and fries, but I don’t feel like I’m being honest with myself as I pull my dress over my head.
Convincing myself that it’s the temperature of the air and not some deep, dangerous thrill at the way his pupils dilate at the sight of my naked breasts is just as futile.
I can’t convince myself as I drop my dress to the sofa that it’s fear or shame making my nipples turn to stone either.
This has been going on for the last three days.
Want a shower? Get naked.
Hungry? Get naked.
I considered being naked when he walked back into the house after telling me he was leaving to go get food, but deep down it thrills me to be commanded to strip.
He turned the tables by offering me a choice.
Yesterday it was, “I grabbed you something to eat, get naked.”
He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t dart his eyes away either. He wants me naked, and he uses every second that I am to watch me, letting his own food get cold as I eat.
“Well?” I ask, holding my hand out for my portion. “I’m naked.”
His eyes slowly drift back up to mine, and I wonder how long it will take before I refuse to take my clothes off. If he keeps buying shit like tacos and cheeseburgers, then it won’t take long before I put on so much weight he won’t want to look at me anyway.
“The price went up.”
“Excuse me?”
His eyes drop to the apex of my thighs, and I try my best not to tremble when a cold chill runs up my body. I knew it was a mistake to think that him just looking at me was enough to appease his perverseness.