6. Annie
ANNIE
My pulse flutters in my neck like a leaf on the wind as I step out of the truck and follow Roman up to the house. I’m leaving my apartment and I’m never going back. And the man sent to kill me is now the one protecting me.
The way he was acting in the truck has my mind spinning. Before, he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. But on the way here, it’s like he was doing everything he could do not to look at me.
I wanted to shout at him to get his attention. And I still do.
As he walks up to the cabin, I feel those same familiar emotions welling up inside of me again. The urge to give in. The urge to submit. But most of all, the urge to please.
Yes, I want to please my kidnapper. The man who was sent to kill me.
Even if I’m still fuming. Even if a part of me hates him.
I want him to want me.
Roman has given me something no other man has ever come close to giving me, a thrill that will not go away.
Not even remotely. One minute I want to scream at him and hit him and punish him for what he’s done, and the next I want to throw myself into his arms, feel his hands all over me, and have him tear my clothes off while he fills my ears with naughty whispers.
My feelings for Roman are a jumbled mess. But I believe him when he says he’s doing all this to protect me. To keep me safe.
He holds the door for me when I get up the steps. There he goes again, being a gentleman. Being romantic. His eyes stay clear of me, but I catch him snatching a glimpse of my ass as I step inside, and my whole body starts to tingle again.
In my world of an unstable home, an unreliable father, and wimpy boys who couldn’t take charge if I paid them, there is something so hot about the way Roman does whatever he wants.
Especially when it comes to me.
I can’t run. I can’t escape. And if he wants to take control and ravage me like he did back at my apartment, there’s nothing I could do to stop him.
Not like I’d want to.
Even now, I can’t stop thinking about the way he fucked me.
Down on the floor, my face grinding against the dirt as he slid inside and took me without hesitation.
Most girls probably picture losing their virginity to their boyfriend in a sweet, dreamy setting with a warm bedroom and candles, dim lighting, and nice music playing.
They think they’ll lie on their back and do it missionary, take things slowly so they can get used to it.
I never wanted that. And Roman knew it.
He knew just from looking at me what I wanted. What I needed. And he gave it to me.
I’m still sore from the pounding he gave me. I can feel every step in my pussy, a reminder of just how big and thick he is. How ruthless and rough.
I’m a hot mess, sweating and still dripping cum into my panties as I enter the cabin.
But as I stop beside him, a storm of jealousy enters my mind.
Roman must be twice my age. And from the way he fucked me, it’s clear he’s done it before. Other women have felt his enormous cock inside them. He must have been with tons of them to be that good at sex.
But should I really care? Do I even have a right to be jealous? After all, it’s not like I could have expected him to live life as a monk before he met me. He’s tall and gorgeous… He must have had countless women throwing themselves at him since forever.
Still, images of him on top of other women begin to haunt me.
I picture him naked, sweating, pounding them like he did me, and a pain wrenches my gut.
I whirl around, ready to say something, but Roman’s eyes pin me in place.
“Want a grilled cheese?”
My lips tremble. Did he really just ask me that?
“A grilled cheese?”
“That’s right,” he replies as he goes around the room, checking the windows. “I don’t keep much food here, but I make a killer grilled cheese.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. My mind is a blur as he turns and strides into the kitchen and goes to the fridge. All I can do is watch as he gets everything together. The cheese, the bread, a little bit of butter. It’s like he’s done this a thousand times.
“So this is what you do?” I ask. “Kidnap women and then make them grilled cheese?”
The look he gives me pushes me back on my heels. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He’s disgusted by my question. His eyes narrow as he slowly shakes his head.
“Annie, I don’t kidnap women. I don’t bring women here. No one has ever been here. Only you.”
That was stupid. But I don’t know what to say in a situation like this. Hell, I barely even know how to feel. I’m still processing the countless emotions whirling through me like a hailstorm.
“Right, you don’t kidnap women,” I reply. “You just kill them.”
Why am I doing this? I want this man. All I’m going to do is push him away.
But would he even let me do that?
“How many people have you killed, Roman?”
“I don’t have an exact number.” He shrugs. “More than you’d like.”
His response should bother me. But for some reason, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because I know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt me. I believe him now. I feel it in my bones, in my heart, in my soul. Roman would never intentionally put me in harm’s way.
Oh, the irony. The man sent to kill me is now my protector.
“And you don’t…have anyone?” I feel so stupid asking, but I can’t help myself. I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I have to be sure.
Roman brings his eyes to me. The wind bellows strongly outside. I hear tree branches clattering off the walls as he holds my gaze.
“I’ve never had anyone, Annie. The first woman I’ve ever truly wanted is you.”
Every emotion I’ve felt since I first saw Roman standing in my room instantly comes swirling violently up through my center. I crack like ice on a frozen lake. My lips tremble. My eyes start to sting. Oh, no. I’m going to cry. I can’t. Not now.
So I do the little trick I learned when I didn’t want to cry around my dad.
I clench my butt. Hard.
I learned it online. At first, I thought it was crazy, but then I tried it when Dad missed my seventeenth birthday, and it worked. It totally worked. It worked then, and it works now.
The toaster oven behind Roman dings. He goes over to it and takes out my grilled cheese.
It does look delicious.
And I believe him when he says he has never made one of these for another woman.
Just me.
Somehow, that makes me feel even more special than any of the things he did to me back at my place. Such a simple act, just making a sandwich for me, has me melting inside like the cheese oozing out the sides of the bread.
We take a seat at a humble table in the corner, and he brings me a glass of water. I go to take my first bite, but my hands are shaking. Countless questions continue to badger my mind.
What if Roman’s boss finds us here? What if Dad tries to reach me? Where will I get more clothes? Another phone? What if I’m reported missing?
“Annie, relax,” Roman says. “You eat. Let me do the worrying.”
His voice soothes me instantly. The tension slides out of my body like I’m a deflating balloon. This is what I’ve been waiting for: a man who can take control from me. A man who can lead. A man who can tell me where to go and command me to do anything with his authority.
Raising the sandwich to my mouth, I take a small bite, and my mouth bursts with flavor.
Wow, this might be one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
My heart starts racing again as I look across the table at him. Chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, monstrous chest. Even sitting, it’s like he takes up the whole room. His sheer presence is overwhelming.
I take another bite, my eyes locked on his.
And I feel myself heating up.
This man is a killer, and I gave him my virginity. He kidnapped me, and I’m hornier than ever.
“You don’t want some?” I ask, holding out half my grilled cheese. His lips stay firm, but his eyes glisten.
“Ladies first.”
Nodding, I take another bite. Dad always told me not to talk with my mouth full, but he also told me he’d always be around to take care of me. “So a killer or a gentleman. Which are you?”
The skin at the corners of his eyes moves just a bit. I’ll get a smile out of him eventually. I just have to keep trying.
“I can’t be both?”
It’s actually killing me that he’s just sitting there across the table from me. Watching me. Not touching me. My thighs are tingling, and it’s not just his cum dripping into my panties. I’m drenched. So wet my thighs are slippery.
My mind goes back to the apartment, how quickly he moved when I ran for the door. It was like this immovable wall just appeared in front of me. I knew instantly there was no way out of that room. Not with him there.
Taking another bite, I get up from my chair. Roman cocks his head to the side and shifts his feet on the floor.
“What are you doing, Annie?”
With a coy little shrug, I take a step back toward the door. He sits forward. The massive muscles of his enormous legs flex as he readies himself.
I glance behind me at the door. Am I really doing this?
A fizzy feeling fills my chest. I have to cover my mouth with one hand as a giggle bubbles out of my throat.
I take another step back, and Roman gets to his feet.
“Annie,” he says, a warning tone in his voice.
I laugh again. I’m nearly bouncing up and down now with anticipation. I’m tingling all over. When was the last time I was this excited?
“Roman,” I ask, slowly dragging out the syllables of his name. “I have a question for you.”
His eyes beam back at me, focused and intent.
“What’s that?”
Another step back. He shakes his head slowly.
“What would you do if I ran?”