16. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Quinn
The rest of the day passes in a tense blur as I watch my mouth, not wanting to do anything to screw up girls' night. They have to have something in the works, some plan to escape. Whatever it is, I want in on it.
I feel better in clothes that actually fit me, though I wish Jacob had let me get some jeans. I walk out of the shop in a little denim skirt, a white tank top, and a funky purple sweater. New boots, too, with a chunky heel.
Jacob takes me straight home, orders us another ridiculous feast for lunch, and disappears to the bedroom to make some calls. The food arrives, and as we dig in, he announces that he’s sorted things out with Gabriel. Girls’ night is on.
“Was he happy about it?” I spoon chicken fried rice into my mouth, perching awkwardly on a chair at the dining table. It still hurts to sit, and Jacob hasn’t offered me a cushion or anything. I won’t give him the satisfaction of getting one either.
Jacob snorts. “What do you think? But don’t worry. I persuaded him. He’ll be on guard duty right outside Annie’s place, though, with a member of the Gilda to help him. If you cause any trouble, they’ve got orders to take you straight home and lock you in the cage till I get back.”
“But what if I need to pee?” I blurt out before realizing what my question should have been. “And where are you going?”
“You hold it or piss yourself. Either way I don’t really care. And I’m presenting at a conference. Their speaker dropped out.”
I stare at him. Presenting at a conference? I still can’t reconcile the Jacob I see daily and the one I keep hearing about. The rough ex-soldier with a heavy right hand versus the genius who gives speeches at conferences. Maybe he has a twin and the two of them just pretend to be one person like in that old movie about the magician.
“What are you going to talk about?” I reach for a crunchy spring roll. The food here is awesome. I’ll give this place that much.
“Now that is a good question. I’m going to have to spend this evening and most of tomorrow figuring that out, I’m afraid.”
I press my hand to my chest in mock horror. “What, no more punishments? How will I cope?”
His lip twitches up toward a smile. He’s not as serious as he’s making himself out to be. “Don’t worry. I’ll save them all up for tomorrow, with interest.”
“And what am I supposed to do with myself? Can I go for a walk? See some more of the place?”
He takes a big swig of his water. “Nice try. You can watch some TV. Or read a book.”
“Oh.” It’s too normal—and boring—an answer. “What about gaming? If you’re really a nerdy scientist, you must be into gaming, right?”
“Waste of bloody time.”
I draw in a breath. “How dare you! Gaming is—”
“Quinn. You’re here for a long time, it’s not going to be all action every minute. Just keep yourself busy.”
A long time. Once I get to girls’ night, we’ll see about that.
A few hours later, I doze off in front of Netflix and wake to Jacob lifting me off the couch. “I can walk,” I mumble into his chest, but he just says, “Of course you can,” in his patronizing voice and carries me into bed. I fall asleep almost instantly as the bed dips next to me with his weight.
***
I wake snuggled deep into the covers and lie there as everything comes back slowly. Jacob. Where is he? Eyes open, I try to sit, but something yanks me back. I claw at my neck, finding the stupid collar there. He must have locked it on in my sleep.
I crane my neck the limited distance I can, finding no one there. A light, fluttery sense of panic starts in my chest. Where is he? I tug on the chain as a reflex, but it’s going nowhere.
“Jacob?” I try to inject irritation into my voice, but anxiety slips through, and it comes out weak. “Jacob? Where are you?”
Nothing.
My breathing picks up. I didn’t think I was claustrophobic, but I’ve never really tested the theory. I’m fine with crowds, but this? Only being able to move a few inches? Nope. I don’t like this at all.
“Jacob!”
I’m being stupid. He’s probably on the phone or in the middle of something. But that’s not the point. He’s trapped me here, and I can’t get out. I grab the chain with two hands and tug. Nothing. What if he’s had a heart attack, is lying there dead, and I’ll die of thirst before anyone finds him.
No. Wait. What had he said? It opens in twelve hours as a failsafe? Fuck that. Twelve hours? I yank again, my growing panic making the chain clatter. I hate this. Hate feeling trapped and helpless. Hate that the only thing I can do is wait for him. “Jacob!”
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here.” He’s standing in the doorway, lips parted as he studies me.
“Get this fucking thing off me!” God, I sound unhinged.
He walks toward me, careful as if I’m a rabid dog. “Quinn. Calm down.”
Oh, he did not.
“Calm down? I just almost ripped my own head off when I woke up, and you weren’t there, and—”
My eyes blur. No. The tears can fuck right off. I swipe at them, and he’s there. He touches his thumb to the collar. It falls off, and he pulls me into him. I struggle, wanting to scratch and snap, but it’s like fighting a bear. I give up, more out of frustration than anything else, and go limp against his hard chest.
He’s wearing cologne this morning, and the heavy scent of it fills my nose. I’ve never been the sort of person that can identify sandalwood and musk and all that crap, but it’s a rich, masculine scent that suits him. His gray T-shirt is soft against my face, and I let myself rest there for a long time as he strokes my hair.
His voice vibrates through my body. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to wake up alone. That must have been scary. I was using my headphones on a call and didn’t hear you shouting.”
A perfectly average, boring explanation that doesn’t come close to touching the actual reason I’m still shaky. “I don’t like being trapped like that. It’s not fair. You don’t know what it feels like.”
“I do, love.”
Only three words, but there’s a dark edge to them that sends a shiver through me. Did something happen to him?
He pulls back and looks me in the face with frank honesty. “That was a mistake, and it won’t happen again. I’ll give you a phone, keyed only to me. You’ll always be able to contact me.”
A phone? It’s a ray of hope slicing through my dark mood. Whatever lock he puts on it can be broken surely? Maybe one of the other captive women will be good at that sort of thing?
“Today? Before you leave for the conference?”
“Yes. Now.” A faint smile touches his lips. “You need to get up and showered. I don’t think kidnapped sex slaves are supposed to sleep this much. I may need to ask for a refund.”
Did he just make a joke? He’s so deadpan and British that it’s hard to tell. “You break it, you bought it,” I respond without really thinking about what I’m saying, and his smile widens, turning dangerous.
“I’ll take that challenge. Now. Up.”
We go through the odd ritual of him washing me in the shower again, though he’s in much more of a hurry this time. No stopping to play with my pussy. Am I a tiny bit disappointed? No. Of course not.
“Where’s the fire?” I ask as he grumbles over rinsing conditioner out of my masses of hair.
“Seb is coming over to help with my speech. We don’t have long, seeing as you slept till almost noon.”
Did I? Holy shit. I’m sleeping better here with Jacob than I have in months. Usually, sleep comes slowly and I wake every few hours, memories of the crash blurring with Marlowe’s face. Since I arrived here, I’ve hardly thought of her at all. It’s a lance to the gut, especially as I can’t deny the relief that follows it.
Once I’m wrapped in a towel, I ask, “Where are my new clothes?”
“Where you left them.” He points at four paper bags printed with the logo of Annie’s little shop, a cat cleaning its claws and “Black Cat Fashions” curling around its head. It suits her. “Did you think a maid would put them away?”
“Actually, yes. That’s supposed to be part of the deal. Captive sex slave, no housework?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”
What a rip-off. I start to rummage through the bags, determined to leave clothes all over the room just to annoy him, when his hands grip me by the waist and place me face down on the bed. I roll over to face him. “What the hell?”
“I didn’t say you could get dressed yet.” He’s studying my body with that dark look in his eyes, and little tingles start in my belly, radiating outward. It should be illegal for him to look at me like that. Like he’s eating me up, piece by tiny piece.
“I thought Seb was coming over.” I put a sarcastic emphasis on his name. Demonic scientists who kidnap women shouldn’t have names like Seb . It’s ridiculous.
“We have a few minutes. I’ll make do.”
“Oh, you only need a few minutes? There are pills for that, you know. I would have thought you’d have heard of them, being a chemist.”
Shit.
I should stitch my stupid mouth shut. My body tenses, waiting for the explosion. But instead, Jacob’s head falls back, and he laughs. He actually fucking laughs, so loud it echoes around the room.
He takes a while to get himself under control. “Bloody hell. You are…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you are. Now roll the fuck over. I want you on all fours, legs spread.”
The sudden, blunt instruction sucks all humor from the room. Now? He’s going to fuck me now? I thought he’d make more of an occasion of it somehow. Not a quickie before his friend arrives. It’s almost insulting. I don’t move.
He sighs. “I’m not going to fuck you. This—” He holds up a shiny, large butt plug. “—is going in your arse, and it’s staying there all day.”
“Uh uh.” I edge away from his looming presence. “Nope. Exit only.”
“Not anymore. Do as you’re told, right now, or you don’t get to go to girls' night.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It’s the one threat I can’t ignore, and he goddamn well knows it, if the smug look on his face is anything to go by. I close my eyes and brace myself. If sticking an uncomfortable chunk of metal up my ass is the price I pay for getting out of this apartment, I’ll just have to woman up and deal with it.
I roll over.
I’m not especially shy, but holding this position in the bright light of midday just because he ordered me to has my face heating. He positions me carefully, sliding my legs out further and even—oh God no—pulling my cheeks apart and running a finger along the crease.
The heat travels from my face down my body in a wave, and I can’t deny the ripples of desire that come along with the embarrassment. What the fuck is wrong with me? The way he moves my body around to suit him tickles some deep, dark part of me.
“Fucking beautiful,” he mutters, and the dark part purrs at the words. Jesus, that voice of his. Rough and rich all at the same time.
Cold liquid hits my skin, and I jump. He strokes my back, soothing me. “Relax, love. Just some lube.”
Before I can reply, he pushes a finger into me. I squeak as the tip penetrates the tight ring of muscle then slowly works in. It’s more weird than painful, but that changes when he adds a second, struggling to get it inside. It burns, an insistent pain that grows worse as he works them in.
“Ouch!”
“Shush. This is nothing.”
“Easy for you to s—” My words end in a squeak as he twists his fingers, stretching me further. “Ow!”
“Even tighter than I thought. We’ll have to work hard to get you ready for Friday.”
Friday? Oh, fuck. The day he’s allocated for fucking my ass. I need to escape this place before then. There’s no way I’m taking that monster anywhere near my ass.
His fingers withdraw, and I relax as the stinging pain fades. It’s short-lived, though, as he presses the tip of the plug against me. “Breathe deep, love. This is going to be sore.”
“What? It was already sore. Please, don—”
He pushes in with the plug, and I howl. It’s huge, cold, and unyielding. There’s no way it’s the one he showed me—he’s swapped the fucking thing for one the size of his fist as a sick joke. I whimper as he forces it in further, and my eyes water as the stretch burns. I can feel myself spreading out, and I stammer, “No, stop. I don’t—”
It slides home. The impossible stretch eases off, though not as much as I’d like. I’m breathing hard, sweat coating my skin, when his fingers find my clit. I yelp again, though more at the shock of it than anything else.
“This will take the edge off.” His fingers move, brushing over the sensitive area. The pleasure spreads out, blending with the pain in a weird mix, twisting into something different. More intense.
I whimper, heading toward the edge, when the goddamn motherfucking bastard stops. He fucking stops.
“Why?” It’s more of a whine than the angry snap I was going for.
“Punishment. For swearing at me yesterday. Now,” He slaps my sore ass hard. “Get dressed.”
That absolute bastard. I roll over to glare at him, wincing when it presses the plug further in. He smirks, and a loud buzz sounds out. “I’d hurry, unless you want Seb to see you naked. He’s here.”