Chapter 7 Emil
EMIL
Ifrowned, picking up on a low sound from the other room in the safehouse.
It wasn’t a groan, but more like a growl?
I couldn’t tell, but I accepted the noise with a sigh of relief.
About time.
When she was that lax and sluggish, unmoving and out of it so deeply as I carried her from the car to the safehouse, I worried that maybe the sedative was too severe.
With her in my arms, I had a firsthand knowledge of just how petite and short she was.
Athletic but so tiny, she did have some meat on her bones.
But maybe the dose of the sedative that I’d had on hand wasn’t as one-size-fits-all as I thought it was.
Hearing her stirring was a good sign. I hadn’t killed her with that sedative. Because where would the fun be in that?
Now that she was waking up, I stood and grabbed a bottle of water. Smiling slowly, I relished the thrill of finally having a chance to see what the hell she wanted with me.
And maybe I’d allow myself to delve deeper into what I might want from her.
I approached the door without hurrying. It wouldn’t serve me any purpose to appear too eager and excited about this. I knew better than to show my captive my motivations or reactions. Just like any other job I handled, I had to be steady and careful with what I said and did.
I never gave away anything someone could use against me.
Never.
Showing any weakness would be my downfall. That was why I paused at the door, taking a deep, steadying breath before entering.
She couldn’t see how much curiosity I’d been holding about her. I wouldn’t let her guess that I was intrigued about whatever she’d tell me or do. Because the second she guessed that she could hold something over me as leverage, the game would be harder to play and win.
Control was a currency I would never relinquish accidentally.
I opened the door and entered.
She’d woken up, all right.
And I knew I was fucked.
Just one look at her eyes, those glittering blue orbs of sass and anger, and I was addicted. She glared at me with so much heat and venom that I stopped in my tracks and watched her. Not because I feared her or disliked her wrath, but because it was my doing.
I was the one to spark her into such a seething, furious state. I had the impact to make her look so fierce and bold.
Fuck me.
She was glorious, so alive with her anger. Spitting mad and sexier for it.
My little agent would certainly keep this interesting. At the allure of playing with her, I smiled slowly and entered the room fully. Without taking my gaze off her as I closed the door behind me, I appreciated how she didn’t flinch, didn’t frown with confusion.
She was awake. With it. And oh-so-well aware that she was limited under my say so.
“Did you have a nice nap?” I teased.
She only slitted her eyes, funneling her hatred that much more precisely on me.
With that gag over her pretty lips, she couldn’t reply.
That was the first thing I corrected. Interacting with her was the reason I’d captured her.
I didn’t want to miss my only chance to look my fill of her.
I wanted to hear what she had to say, the motive she had to spy on me and follow me.
I wanted to feel her, too, but for now, I settled on merely bringing a knife to her gag and freeing her mouth.
The barest brush of my knuckles on her soft cheek was more than enough to excite me.
“Better?” I taunted.
“Release me,” she demanded. No frills. No pouting or begging. Just that order.
I smiled wider. “Not yet.” I’d let her stew on whether I was joking or not.
All that mattered at this point was that she understood who was in charge here.
If she was an agent who’d been trained in any psychological means of interrogation, I’d do well to persuade her against trying to twist this situation into her favor.
Before she could find the need to speak again, so haughty and hot that her sass was the ultimate turn-on for a sicko like me, I opened the water and brought the bottle to her lips.
She kept them clamped together, stubbornly, as she glowered at me.
“Thirsty?”
“Untie me.”
I shook my head, staring at her lips as I pushed the opening of the bottle toward them. Even though she wasn’t happy about it, she cooperated as I tipped the container.
Watching her mouth was risky business. It was too fucking easy to imagine her wrapping it around me. Once she seemed to be done, I pulled the bottle away. A dribble of liquid spilled from the corner of her mouth, and I lifted my thumb to smear it away.
God damn. She was so soft. Smooth. Tempting.
She was too damn sexy. And as of now, all mine.
I set the water bottle on the table and dragged a chair over for myself. After turning it so I’d face her, straddling the back of it, I rested my arm on the top of the back, then placed my elbow on my hand. Setting my chin in my other hand, I watched her.
As I tested out how she handled being under my direct scrutiny, curious if she’d speak first under the pressure of silence, I watched her open and close her mouth. Just once. Otherwise, she didn’t react.
“Well, now that I’ve got you, here, little agent, maybe you should start by explaining your interest in me.”
Nothing.
I stared and waited some more. And she didn’t crack.
Hmm. Interesting.
“Nothing to say, little agent?”
She tipped her chin up.
Ah. I see how it is.
I could respect her strong start. She’d be tough. She’d fight back with silence. But it wasn’t going to get her free.
“All right.” I stood. “I suppose we can try this again later.”
She didn’t protest or make a sound as I got up and left her there.
An hour later, I returned to give her food.
“How about now, little agent?” I asked. “What’s with your interest in me?”
Nothing.
It became a pattern. Rinse and repeat.
For a few days, it was nothing more than that. I’d come to bring her water or food. That or to untie her ankles so she could walk to the bathroom and relieve herself with her hands still bound before I’d guide her back to the chair and secure her again.
She didn’t speak at all, clearly hanging on to this idea that refusing to answer me would net her a favor.
It didn’t.
However, I did succumb that much further into addiction. For her. In wanting her. Because fuck, meeting a strong woman like this wasn’t something that happened often in my life. Usually, I deflected and avoided the law. This one, though, had become the object of my fascination.
If I were in her position, I’d be cool and silent, too. I’d play it just like she was, not giving anything away. At all.
Yet, the more I watched her and noticed her, the harder I fell into wishing she’d just fucking crack already.
The longer I stared at her generous tits, those curves at her small waist, her athletic arms and legs, I struggled to keep my head in the game of slowly interrogating her.
She had to break. Sooner or later, I would guarantee it.
On the fifth day of her being tied up and captive in this Mexican safehouse Simon had found for me in the jungle, rain battered the rooftop. The deluge didn’t lessen the humidity one bit. What it did do was leak inside.
A small hole in the roof gave way, and by a stroke of pure luck on my part, the steady trickle of water splashed right down onto her head.
When I came back to lead her to the bathroom for a break and also to bring her water again, I found her staring dully again, one eye squinting closed more than the other as she tried not to let the rain in it.
“What a tragedy, little agent.” I crouched to untie her ankles. “You’re all wet.”
With how I was down on my haunches, crouching right in front of her and between her legs, my comment could’ve had a very different meaning. All that stood between my face and her pussy were mere inches. I’d only have to duck down, and I could see if she was wet like that.
Even though the double innuendo wasn’t overly emphasized, I saw the instant that it clicked in her head. Glaring that much hotter, she gave me a look that could kill.
Fuck me. She’s all sass and fire. Stubborn and strong.
I intended to let her try this silent treatment a little longer. I could wait and be patient. But now that it was on my mind, I followed the impulse to see if I could get her to break with a little bit of seduction.
“Are you wet, little agent?” I asked, giving up on untying the rope at her ankles. Instead, I brought my hands up to her knees.
Her jaw twitched as she ground her molars.
“Do you think about me when you’re all alone in this hot room?” The air conditioners barely kept it tolerable, but as I watched her stare at me, lips pressed tightly together, it only got more heated between us.
A palpable spark of desire lingered between us. I didn’t care what she’d say or withhold from saying. I felt the lust she couldn’t hide. It drew me in. It lured me to risk touching her more.
And I did. Sliding my hands up her bare thighs, just an inch or two before reaching the hem of her loose shorts, I tormented myself with the sensation of her smooth skin. Warm and supple. Silky like satin.
“You don’t have to lie about how much I’ve been on your mind.” I edged my hands further, caressing her back and forth as the small trickle of rain continued to spill on the top of her head.
“I know you’ve been watching me. Stalking me at airports.”
She furrowed her brow, the only tell that she gave me to indicate I was getting to her now.
“I’m flattered that you’re so interested in me—”
“I’m not.”
I grinned, loving the husky sass in her voice. It croaked from the lack of use, but I’d get her warming up her vocal chords in no time. Like right now—when I’d get her to scream with pleasure if I let her come.
“No?” I feigned surprise, smoothing my hands up higher under her shorts.
“No.” She stated it bluntly, but her difficulty in swallowing after her reply suggested she wasn’t so sure about that.