Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I think about the texts. And I think about Freeze. Daniel is good with a gun. I need to stay with him.
I need to.
I know what I must do. I swallow hard and close my eyes, bracing myself. You can do this, Regan. He’s another john. I’ve had plenty of those since I was captured, and most blur into a faceless blend of rapists. What’s one more meaningless fuck, right? My stomach is queasy at the thought, though. Daniel has been nothing but kind to me. It feels wrong to use him.
And yet, I know he wants me. I’ve seen the way he looks at me. It’s clear he thinks I’m pretty—and off-limits. Time to make myself no longer off-limits for him. If I’m his favorite fuck toy, he’ll keep me at his side and protect me.
I pull my new soft sundress off over my head and carefully fold it on the table. I fluff my hair and lick my lips, then pinch my cheeks to give them a bit of healthy color. I need to look sexy, needy with desire, and, above all, like I want it. Like I’ll die if I don’t get his cock in the next few minutes.
I can do this.
I give my nipples a hard little twist to make them point, even though the last thing I’m feeling right now is desire. More like dread. He’s going to know that as soon as he touches me and feels how dry I am. I think for a moment and then gather saliva in my mouth. When I have plenty, I coat my fingers and shove them into my panties to make myself wet. That’ll have to do. By the time he gets there, I’ll have him so hot and bothered that he won’t notice . . . or won’t care. Most men don’t care.
I quietly approach Daniel. He’s still sleeping, his breathing regular. His arms have fallen forward, no longer holding the blanket to his body, so I peel it back carefully, letting it pool at his feet. He’s wearing a belt and trousers. All right. I’ll have to rub him, get him good and aroused first, and then unbuckle him.
I kneel next to him and reach for his cock before hesitating. I need to make sure this goes smoothly. I stand up and tug my panties off, even though my mind screams for me to put them back on because panties are safe. Then I sit down and lightly place my hand on his chest, watching his face.
He stirs, but he doesn’t wake.
Gently, I rub my hand along his length, feeling it harden. A twinge of worry creeps over me because Daniel’s flaccid length is still pretty impressive. That’s going to hurt, but nothing to be done about it now. I cup my hand and continue to stroke it up and down his cock, as it grows and hardens under my ministrations.
He mumbles something and reaches for his cock, eyes closed—and finds my hand there. His fist closes around my wrist but he doesn’t move. His eyes snap open, and he gives me a vague, confused look. “. . . the fuck?” he mumbles, trying to sit up.
I lean in and press my mouth to his parted one, letting my tongue graze his lips. My hand remains on his cock and I push a hand on his shoulder, trying to force him back down on the couch. “I have a problem, Daniel,” I say in my sexiest voice as I keep rubbing his cock. I press my tits against his arm, too, and his girth swells thicker in my grip.
Suddenly the fog clears from his eyes. He jackknifes upright and tosses me aside, sending me reeling. “What the fuck are you doing?” he roars.
The realization of what I was just about to do—what I was doing—hits me. I’ve tried to use this man like everyone has used me. Like he was nothing.
Like he was just a body part.
Like I was just a body part.
I’m stricken with horror and I can’t pretend any longer. I struggle to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I manage to say at his forbidding stance, fists on hips, glaring at me like an angry god. “I think breakfast isn’t sitting well.”
I stumble away and barely make it to the bathroom before I puke everywhere.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DANIEL
I dream often. Too much. Usually my dreams are about my sister, Naomi. I’m with her on vacation, and sometimes I save her from the kidnapping. But most of the time I’m left standing on the beach as the waves come up and take her out to sea, and I swim and I swim and call out her name but she never responds. When I try to turn toward the shore, my dad is standing there with my mother prostrate at his feet, so I turn around and dive back into the ocean. When I wake up, I’m gasping for breath.