Chapter 10 Reverse Cowboy
REVERSE COWBOY
BAZ
Technically, I was now my pretty girlfriend’s captive.
Bree would never let me leave our charming little murder cabin.
Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue. Hell, she’d kept me captive before.
The last time involved ropes. It was cute, really.
Unfortunately, this time, no matter how much I wished differently, I needed to escape her.
I released her from the couch, and she went to Orson, asking if he had any emergency blood reserves here.
Unfortunately, her blood bags had been lost two, or maybe three, vehicles ago.
Luckily, Orson claimed to have frozen bags somewhere.
Although that didn’t ease Bree’s anxiety.
She whirled around and stared out the window with concern.
Her need for blood was abnormally high compared to normal vampires.
If, for some reason, something happened to those frozen blood bags, she’d have no choice but to gorge on us.
Except she couldn’t with me, not with the changes burning in my veins.
So it would be Orson and Nemo taking the brunt of her thirst. Of course, they’d do it happily, but the amount she would need would likely leave them passed out for hours.
Nemo moved around the house, inspecting every room and window. He was on a mission, finding all the weak spots, and committing the smells to memory. It was interesting to watch. Especially when he began ripping up the shag carpet to check the subfloor, causing Orson to yell.
As far as helping me escape, Nemo was hard to determine. If he thought I was still stronger than him, he’d have no choice but to help me get away, but he’d be a pain in the ass about it. Likely, he’d sabotage it in some way or insist he come with me.
A broken clock hung on the wall—the hands unmoving. No big deal, I’d just kill everyone I loved if I lost track of time. I had twenty hours, or maybe nineteen now. How long had I been sitting here? I wasn’t sure.
Orson convinced Nemo to leave the carpet alone, then walked away with a scowl.
Orson was at the top of the list of people I wanted to talk to.
He’d already tried to dump me in a parking lot once.
Shouldn’t be too hard to convince him to try it again.
I tapped my thigh with a gloved hand, then sat up.
I couldn’t waste any time setting up a plan. It was time to break up.
“Orson and I have some unfinished business in the other room,” I said.
“Unfinished business in a room here? How is that possible? We’ve never been here before,” Nemo said in confusion.
“I promised to fuck him,” I blurted. Nemo ran into a table and hissed, grabbing his shin.
“Now?” He asked. “Shouldn’t we discuss … everything?”
“I'd rather you all run a train on me until time's up.”
“You know that implies you’ll receive,” Orson said.
“You all wish. Anyway—” I popped up from the couch and everything went black. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, tongue fucking shag carpet. “You might have to settle on an unenthusiastic hand job,” I groaned.
“You can’t expect Baz to fuck you in this condition,” Nemo said, looking at me like I was pathetic. Then he gave a prolonged sigh and looked at Orson.
“I’ll fuck you if you need it that bad,” Nemo said.
“Oh, you’d love that,” Orson scoffed.
“I’d hate it, actually.” Nemo glared at him.
“Well, I’d hate it more,” Orson snapped back.
“Can you two stop hate-flirting?” I sighed, dragging myself from the ground.
“I’m not really fucking him, okay? I need …
” I looked around at all the anticipatory gazes.
“Therapy, okay? I need to talk about my feelings with my therapist.” Nemo and Bree recoiled.
Suddenly, they were obsessed with finding food in the kitchen and utterly uninterested in what Orson and I might do in the other room.
Orson slid his gaze to me and raised an eyebrow. Then he curled his fingers in a come-hither.
“Clever,” he whispered as I followed him down a small, dim hall towards a bedroom. After I closed the door behind us, he launched himself at me. His teeth dragged down my neck while his body pressed flush with mine. An unmistakable bulge brushed against my cock through our clothes.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Orson pressed his lips to mine. A hand curled in my hair, and his fingers gently massaged my head. He knew I was weak to gentle touches. I shuddered, my mouth opening.
Orson’s tongue pressed in slowly, savoring the entry inside me.
The kiss was needy. There was no room to doubt his craving.
What was sexier than being desired? I was filled with the urge to give in to his lust. Reaching up, I gripped his black hair and tugged.
When his lips came off mine, he sighed in relief and sagged in my hold—nearly limp.
He’d let me do anything. He’d want me to do anything.
“You don’t actually want to talk about your feelings, right?
Or, did you want me to make you admit them while we have sex?
” He flashed me a villainous, fanged smile.
My eyes slid to his neck, remembering he liked rough sex and being choked.
Wouldn’t that be satisfying? He’d degrade me with therapy, and I’d choke him in retaliation as I filled his ass.
I nibbled my lower lip and tried to remember why I’d come back here. Ah, yes, killing everyone.
“Well, I was going to talk about helping me sneak away, but what the hell? We have a little time, right?” I gripped his hip roughly. “Would be impolite to not properly fuck everyone before I leave.” He leaned away from me. Which was the opposite of what I wanted. Come back here.
“You didn't want to have sex?” He asked.
“I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m not opposed.” I tried tugging him closer again, and he thwarted me, pressing against my chest. I sighed in annoyance. “Stop being difficult. My legs are about to give out. And you may need to be the more active participant.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Reverse cowgirl—cowboy. Whatever,” I said. He pushed away from me. Guess he wasn’t a fan of that position.
“No. What did you mean by help you sneak away? Is that what all those suggestive looks have been since we got here?”
“I thought that was obvious. Did you think I was eye fucking you? We both know I can’t stay near anyone.
The other two are refusing to accept it, so I need your help.
” I dragged myself to the bed, falling on top with bone-deep exhaustion.
I needed food. And more sleep, even though I wanted to be conscious for every hour I had left.
“Where’s the clock? How many hours are left?
” I asked. Orson folded up the sleeves of his button-up, revealing a wristwatch.
He looked even more like a figure of authority with his shirt like that.
Like a disappointed therapist ready to tell me everything wrong with me and how I wasn’t doing anything right. He sure knew how to flirt.
“Keep the shirt on while I fuck you,” I said. He flashed me an annoyed look. “Keep that expression too.” Orson rolled his eyes as he slid the watch off his wrist.
“Here,” he said, tossing me his watch. I picked it up and examined it. The band was a textured metal that reminded me of dragon scales. The face was black with light brown lettering.
“Let me,” he said, coming over. I looked up at him as he gently slid the watch from my fingers and wrapped it around my wrist.
“You’re giving it to me?” I asked. His gaze met mine as he worked the clasp together.
“Yes.” Before he pulled away, his fingers quickly brushed the inside of my wrist.
“Okay,” I commented. He’d tried to abandon me last night. Now he was wordlessly begging me to fuck him and giving me his watch. There was even prolonged eye contact.
Orson was always confusing. It was hard to understand what he wanted out of Nemo and me. Some days, it seemed like he wanted nothing at all. That he was annoyed we were even there.
Then there were days or moments like this, where I didn't know what the fuck we were. Of course, there was the whole building sexual tension with him and Nemo that was bound to explode in a fuckfest at some point. Been there, done that.
“Six thirty in the morning. That’ll be twenty-four hours since the gas station,” Orson said. I looked at the watch and counted. My numbers ended short, and I counted again.
“You all said twenty hours.”
“It was an estimate,” he said. Eighteen hours. Losing more time than I expected was a gut punch. I kept staring at the watch.
“Maybe you can distract them,” I started. “How much gas is left in the van? And what lever do I pull to make it drive? Or is there a button?”
“And then what, you just drive away, never to be seen again?” He asked.
“Maybe,” I said, finally dragging my attention away from the time. “Who cares. The point is, I’ll leave, and things will get a lot easier for you, right? Just like you wanted back at the motel.”
“No,” he said. I was speechless for a moment.
“What do you mean? That you don’t think it’ll be easier? Nemo is a handful, but still, one of us is better than two.”
“You aren’t leaving,” he said. My mouth hung open.
“What?” I was baffled. It didn’t make any sense.
“You … you already wanted me gone. Now the situation is even worse.” Orson walked away with a sigh, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed.
The room and bed were larger than the ones at the asylum.
It’d be more comfortable for us all to stay together …
for them to stay together. Not me. I wasn’t going to be here.
I might never sleep next to any of them ever again.
“I need to think about it,” Orson said.
“In eighteen hours, I’ll become so lethal none of you will be able to survive me.” I pushed up on my elbows and glared at him.
“We have no idea how your powers are going to develop.” He avoided my gaze.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Why do you care? You tried to leave me in a parking lot.”
“The situation is more manageable now—”