Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“No, thanks. I’m going home.” I brush past him and head toward the driver’s side.
“I have a proposition.”
His voice is silky and commanding, and I swear my core clenches, which is not something I’m proud of, but I can practically hear that man telling me to get down on my knees, and I’m pretty sure I’d do it.
“Save it for someone else,” I say, reaching the door. I swear, I locked this thing before going inside. “I don’t care what you do with your sex bag, Mr. Bianco, but it doesn’t involve me.”
“Simon,” he says, standing against the passenger side door. He leans his forearms on the roof. The guy’s massive with shoulders like bowling balls. “My name’s Simon.”
“Oh. Okay. Good for you. I’m still leaving.” I grab the handle and yank the door open.
“It’s not a sex bag,” he says, sounding casual as he glances at his hands, looking bored. “Just so you know.”
I pause, hating myself for taking the bait. “Like I said, I’m not trying to judge you. I mean, I have certain interests too, but—” I bite my tongue because my god I don’t need to start telling this guy about my kinks. “Seriously, I don’t care. I just want to go home.”
“I’d happily use what’s in that bag to bind your ankles together, and I’d strap that ball gag to your mouth, but I told you, it’s really not for sex.”
I take a ragged breath, because Jesus, the thought of him tying me up has been a constant fantasy all day, and hearing it from his dirty mouth only makes me freeze like a prey animal.
“What’s it for then?” I ask, and I know I’ll regret it, because if that bag isn’t for fucking then it’s for something even worse, and I don’t want to know.
But Simon leans closer.
“Those weren’t sex toys, topolina. Those were for kidnapping. I can understand how you confused the two, but I assure you, the person I tied up last night didn’t enjoy it one bit.”
I start to hyperventilate, because yeah, that’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear.
This is too much. This is way too much. Simon just admitted to kidnapping someone, and I have no clue how to process that. I wish I could open up a huge pit in my brain and toss the last twenty seconds into a deep dark hole then cover it up with a sign that reads Do Not Remember, For The Love Of Your Sanity, He’s Not Hot Enough, Don’t Do It, but the sign would be a lie.
He’s definitely hot enough.
“What do you want from me?” I manage to croak, feeling a horrible mix of terrified and sick.
“I only want to talk. I promise, I left my bag at home.” He smiles, but it’s not comforting, not even a little bit. “You were trying to steal from me last night. No, don’t speak up, I don’t want to hear you deny it. That will only annoy me. In exchange for showing mercy, I want you to hear me out. I need a half hour. I’ll take you somewhere public. And when I’m finished, you can drive home, regardless of what you decide.” He opens the passenger side door. “I think that’s more than fair, topolina.”
More than fair. More than fair. I think that’s more than a nightmare. All my pathetic horny energy is gone, replaced by sheer and total fear, an icy lance of it stuck down into my toes. He’s looking at me like he’s having a good time, but this is a man who could crack my spine with his bare hands. This is a man who admits to kidnappings, who carries around a bag for that express purpose, and who really did catch me trying to steal from him.
I could run. Turn around and try to get away. I’m pretty fast. Going for a run is basically my last form of self-care, and I might be able to escape. But if I don’t and he catches me, I think all this talk about having a conversation will be gone, and much worse will happen.
I could scream. I could beg. Or I could go with him and listen to what he has to say.
So far, he hasn’t tried to hurt me. Sure, he broke into my car, but what’s a little grand theft auto between pals? He did catch me elbow-deep in his stuff, his kidnapping bag, and we both know what I was really looking for. He could nail me for that. He probably should.
Instead, a conversation.
“Somewhere public,” I say, meeting his gaze and holding it. My life can’t possibly get worse. What’s the harm in this?
“Scout’s honor.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Come on, topolina. We can do this the easy way and drive over together, or we can do it the hard way, and I can show you exactly what kind of kink I’m into.” He licks his lips to emphasize his point.