Chapter One #2
stalking me on my way home, following me into the alley, and then I’d woken up
somewhere else.
“Are you all right then?” The man in front drew me away from
those dark, confused thoughts. “Come on. Don’t be afraid. Tell me your name.”
Maybe I’m sick and this is some kind of fever dream. I’d
been stuffy the last couple of days.
“My name is Twenty to Life because that’s the time you’ll do
for kidnapping me, you son of a bitch.” A little anger flares through me, and I
can’t help but push.
I steel myself, waiting for the broad man to strike, then
I’ll wake up and go about my dull life.
Then maybe I can forget those red eyes and how cold his
hands felt. I can forget how those eyes burned into me as he chuckled, and
right before I lost consciousness, I’d been certain he was taking me to Hell.
I’d gotten out of that nightmare. I can get out of this one.
I should have known it wasn’t a pleasant dream and that
these weirdos with their soft beds and good-smelling food would eventually turn
into monsters. It’s how my damn brain works since the divorce. Sure enough,
someone is going to smack me, rape me, and then potentially gut me. It looks
like it’s the big, hot guy’s job. I wait, ready to feel the terrible blow that
will likely signal the end of this dream, but the man with the long black hair
simply smiles, showing even, white teeth.
Despite the terror, or maybe because of it, his expression
takes me totally off guard. When he smiles, he’s devastating. An unwelcome
attraction sparks through me, and once again I am forced to reconsider all of
my life choices.
“All right then, Twenty,” the man says in his lilting
accent. Irish. He sounds Irish. “My name is Beckett, but you can call me Beck.
And my mother was actually quite nice. I would prefer you didn’t curse her.
Yell at me all you like, but let’s leave my mother out of it. Tell me, why
should I purchase you instead of these other lovely women?”
What the actual hell does he mean? “I’m being sold? Someone
is selling me like a piece of fucking meat?”
Beck shakes his head. “Language there, darlin’. You’re in a
market, trussed up like a pretty, plump pigeon. Did you think you were just
hanging on the chains for show?”
“Your… I apologize, sir. The girl is rather ignorant,” says
the small man named Reeve, reminding me he’s still here. My stupid eyes won’t
leave Beck. Reeve barely comes to Beck’s waist. Compared to Beck, he looks like
a boy. A boy with a bushy beard and a pointy red cap. It seems to be a uniform
of sort. All the jailers wear them.
“I am not ignorant.” I hate feeling small, and that’s where
I am now. Trapped. I’m trapped and I can’t find my way out. Anger starts to
flare through me. I’m always trapped, aren’t I?
“I did not mean it that way.” Reeve’s fists clench in
obvious frustration. I noticed that he tried to maintain a soft tone when
speaking to me or any of the other women. He’s polite, even when I curse him.
“The lady is obviously intelligent, though lacking in any kind of manners. She
is from the Earth plane.”
Beck turns from the smaller man and back to me, his mouth
hanging slightly open. He stares at me, as though he’s having trouble
processing what Reeve just told him. It gives me a chance to study him.
He’s tall. He has to be at least six foot four. I’m only
five foot five, and a rather round one at that. The god in front of me doesn’t
have an ounce of fat on him. He’s broad-shouldered, his arms thick with muscle,
though he doesn’t look like some steroid-crazy gym guy. He’s earned his
muscles. I would bet he hasn’t earned them pumping iron. He works, and at hard,
most likely physical, labor. His skin is bronzed from the sun.
If his body is heavenly, then I don’t know how to describe
his face. It’s all sharp planes and harsh angles that come together to form
something truly beautiful. His jaw looks like it was carved out of granite. But
his eyes are like soft, gray stones in his face. He is, without a doubt, the
loveliest man I have ever seen.
It’s too bad he’s a dream, and not one I would have thought
to have. I’ve never gone for his type before. Beck looks like an escapee from a
Renaissance fair, with his open-necked, linen shirt under a leather vest. His
trousers appear to be made from some sort of animal skin, as are the boots that
come to his knees. A sword peeks from behind his shoulder, held by a scabbard
across his back.
“Is she truly from the Earth plane?” Beck asks.
“Yes, sir. You can see why I called you.” They both stare at
me like I’m some rare, exotic creature at a zoo.
Suspicion tickles at my consciousness. Why exactly am I
here? A million scenarios toss through my brain. I’ve read articles about human
trafficking. Had they led to this particular nightmare? Maybe there’s another
way out. I’m willing to try anything at this point. I bite my lower lip and
look at the five other girls in the tent with me. They’re all caged in the same
fashion, though these women keep their heads lowered and comply with their
jailers’ requests. “You shouldn’t buy me. I’m not very pretty. The other women
are prettier. They’re thinner, too.”
The other women are all blondes. They look like something
out of a Swedish high-fashion magazine. I do not fit with them. I carry around
an extra five or ten pounds that never seem to go away. I’m an overblown
hourglass in a world where svelte is worshipped.
Beck frowns. It does nothing to mar the perfection of his
face. “Are you cruel then, love? Funny, I wouldn’t have thought that of you.
It’s mean to point out their flaws. They can’t help that they don’t get enough
to eat. Why do you think they’re here selling themselves?”
“You don’t want her, Your Highness,” a soft voice says. I
look over to see the blonde nearest me staring at Beck through the bars of her
cell. “She doesn’t understand a thing about our world. She yelled at Cara for
not having all the foods she wanted. I believe she is cruel. I would be
thrilled to belong to you.”
Way to throw a sister under a bus. “Yeah, fuck you, too.”
Beck shakes his head and looks slightly disappointed in me.
The spark of shame that goes through me is unexpected.
He walks over to the young, waifish blonde. “She is not from
this plane. She is frightened. Allowances must be made. I hope you all find
kind mates today. I hope your mates value you all for the precious gift you
give them, but I must find a bondmate.”
Beck gives Reeve a hand gesture that sends the smaller man
into action. Within seconds, drapes are drawn, and I find myself in a private
room with only Beck inside. Sunlight pours in through a hole in the top of the
elaborate tent that seems to function as some sort of skylight. Now that we’re
alone, it feels like a spotlight. I’m painfully aware of my unclothed state. I
can feel my nipples puckering under his steely gaze.
“It is not kind to flaunt your beauty to less fortunate
women.” Beck’s voice is deep and allows no room for disrespect.
I’m not sure why, but I need to know where this is going.
I’m here, and he moves me in a way I thought I might never feel again. Maybe
there’s more to this than I thought.
If this is some kind of bondage fantasy my libido is playing
out, I’m here for it. “I don’t understand. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I wanted
you to buy one of the others. I’ve decided you might be difficult to get away
from. I thought you would do it because they’re prettier than me.”
Beck’s handsome face bunches up as he seems to mull my
words. “On what plane are they prettier than you?” He laughs. “Sorry, love. I
do remember hearing stories of where you come from. Food there is plentiful,
yet the women starve because the men won’t take care of them.”
I try to relax. He’s the gorgeous god of a man who happens
to adore fluffy women. Now I know the real culprit. Romance novels. I’ve been
reading too many of them. “It’s not like that. That woman you talked to, she
would be considered a great beauty where I’m from.”
Which, according to these people, is the Earth plane. I
don’t think they’re talking about a jet.
I also don’t understand why the world seems softer now. I
can’t see the cages now. All I can see is him, and I’m not afraid of him.
Which just proves what an idiot I can be.
“I would have to feed her for a month before I’d even
consider bedding her,” Beck mutters. “I don’t understand humans. Do human males
not like breasts?”
He asks the last bit with a distinct huskiness to his voice.
His hand comes out, and heat flashes through my system as he palms one breast,
his thumb rasping over my nipple. I’m practically hanging from a hook naked
with the most glorious man I’ve ever seen, and I can’t think straight.
This doesn’t feel like a dream. It feels real. So real.
That caress shoots from my breast to my pussy like
lightning. “Oh, please, don’t.”
That is what I’m supposed to say, right? I’m not supposed to
let a stranger touch me like this.
Even if it feels like heaven. All the fear in my system
seems to turn to arousal, flooding me with need.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this, since I
felt wanted.
Beck moves in, his big body crowding me as his other hand
reaches up. The sunlight hits his face. His gray eyes are heating up, and he
runs his tongue over his lips to wet them. He looks like a man about to enjoy a
good meal. His hands caress my breasts and he sighs.
He breathes deeply, his nose at the top of my head. “And why
not? How will I know if we’re compatible if I don’t touch you? If I’m going to
pay this much for a woman, then I have to be sure I’m getting what we need.”
The “we” part barely registers in my head because Beck’s
warm hands trail a path across my skin as he looks me over. His fingertips
brush my nipples before closing over them. He rolls them between his fingers,
pinching down on just the right side of pain. This. This is what I need. This
is why my brain came to this place.
For comfort before my dull existence steals another day from
me.
My nipples peak, already sensitized to his touch.