Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
I take a second to orient myself to where I am in the room. I can feel the rug underneath my bare feet and if I scoot my foot just left, there’s that one nail that sticks up from the loose board. I use my sense of direction to propel her toward the closet, but she plants her feet after two steps. “N-not the closet.”
There’s the unmistakable note of fear in her voice. For a split second, I’m a teenager again, waking up to the smell of antiseptic and beeping machines. The world is dark, a mud color that no matter how many times I blink doesn’t go away. Panic makes my throat so tight that I can’t call out for anyone. I’m alone in the darkness.
I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out gruff when I say, “I’m not putting you in the closet. Just want to bind your wrists.”
“This is usually more of a third date activity for me,” she jokes. But her voice is all wrong. It’s too shaky, uncertain.
I hate the undercurrent of fear coming off her in waves. Dammit, she’s the one that’s supposed to develop Stockholm Syndrome, not me. “I’m not going to hurt you. Won’t let anyone else either.”
Frankie snores loudly in the corner, and I take the chance to lighten the moment. “Now, stand still or my fierce attack dogs will turn on you.”
“Oh, yeah, you have some real apex predators here,” she drawls, and it’s the joke that lets me know she’s going to be fine.
I release her and step into the closet. Only takes me a minute to find the belt I’m looking for. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had to wear a suit, tie, and belt since moving to Courage County. Not much we get dressed up here for, other than the occasional funeral. Probably why I like it so much.
The town reminds me of home, of the things I left behind. I rub my chest, the familiar ache sharper than usual. After I let this curvy thief go, I’ll be alone in the world again. Won’t feel her presence hovering all around me, making me feel like I have companionship.
It’s foolish thinking, and I know that. Forcing myself to pull it together, I leave the closet. She’s exactly where I left her. I thought for certain she’d have lifted the window and shimmied right on out.
“Come on now. You made me a promise and I’m trusting you,” I tell her as I lead her to the bed. “Keep your hands to yourself or your ass ends up on the floor.”
“You sure you don’t want to turn this into a third date?” she asks in a flirty tone as I secure the belt around one of her wrists then to the bed post. She can get up and down easily enough but there’s not enough give to get her close to the window.
I grunt at her words. I’ve never had a woman in here. Never wanted to learn that I was replaceable again. My hand is low on her back and I swat her ass. Don’t know why I do, only that it feels natural. “Settle down.”
“You’re the one in charge.” She makes a soft whimper that goes straight to my cock. Is she the type of woman that likes a little pain mixed with her pleasure? Fuck, I can’t be thinking like that. Not when I’ve done a citizen’s arrest.
I move my hands and walk around the bed, hoping that in the moonlight she can’t see the way I have to adjust my tented boxers. I’ve lived on my own for years and never longed for a woman’s company. Never wanted to spend a night writhing against someone as badly as I do her.
I settle on the bed and wait for her. She can stand there all night if she wants. Or sit on the floor. She has enough room to do either. “What’s your name?”
She doesn’t answer for a long time, and I accept that I’m not getting one. I don’t even know why it disappoints me so much. “My name is Nash. You probably already know that one, don’t you?”
Another long breath of silence passes before she finally asks, “What happened to Frankie? I’ve never seen a dog with a wheelchair.”
I can still remember the horror I felt when I reached for Frankie that day. He couldn’t leave his bed. I helped him to his feet only for him to fall right back over. “He has intervertebral disc disease. He went paralyzed one day with no warning. Sometimes, vets can fix it. Sometimes, they can’t.”
“You ever think of giving him up? I mean, seems like he’s a lot of trouble.” There’s no accusation in her tone, only curiosity.
The sun was setting, pink and purple across the late summer sky. It’s the last thing I remember seeing. The last perfect moment of my life. “Didn’t seem fair to give up on him.”