Page 23 of Unchained

Another bout of sickness gripped his insides. He held his stomach while the pain throbbed across his midsection. Cam moved to the other side of the bed. The mattress tilted as she shimmied close to him. He glanced over his shoulder to see her sitting at his back.

“Rest,” she said.

Before she could stroke his hair again, he caught her fingers and turned to face her. It wasn’t fair that she’d been up all night because of him. If he weren’t sick as a damn dog, he’d sleep on the floor so she could take the bed. His brain fuzzed again as the need for the drug ravaged his psyche.

He swept his arm around her waist and pressed his face to her abdomen. “I will if you will.”

She stiffened. A beat later, her hands, so fucking gentle he craved them more than the drug, settled on the bare skin of his back. Her legs stretched out, and she reclined. The steady rise and fall of her belly slowed his heart rate to a tolerable pump.

His body jerked and withered. His head pounded like a jackhammer rattling his fucking skull, but the scent of Cam made it all worth it. He dragged one deep breath in his nose after another, savoring each note of the fragrance that touched his memory but that he couldn’t put a finger on . . . Lavender and some kind of citrus with a hint of something sweet. God, it was nice. If aromatherapy were his thing, he’d breathe her in all day.

Soft puffs of air met his ears, and the rising and falling of her belly grew steady. He curled closer to her body, holding her slim waist in his hand, anchoring himself to the only solid thing in his fucked-up world. Sleep yanked him deep into its clutches, but this time, he welcomed its darkness.

CHAPTER 8

The movement of fingers between her thighs snapped Cam’s eyes open. Light streamed in through the edges of the curtains near the door. She blinked and stared down at the spread of male on her lower body. They’d slept on top of the covers, Brooks’s head pillowed on her tummy, his hand settled between her thighs. Several inches separated his fingers from her crotch, but god he was close.

She wet her lips. Her tongue moved over the rough texture like a sponge on sandpaper. With her hand curled around Brooks’s neck, she didn’t dare move for fear of waking him. She turned her head to read the clock on the nightstand: 12:01 p.m. Goodness, they’d slept almost seven hours. Normally she slept in underwear, nestled under warm covers, and often woke to pee. But not this time. She’d slept like a baby, snug as a caterpillar in a cocoon with him draped over her. Heat radiated off his torso, but not alarmingly so. He felt more like a normal, hot-blooded male than a dude ravaged by withdrawal.

Soft snores broke from his mouth. With his head using her bladder as a pillow, she might just pee her pants, but that was better than waking him and seeing him go through more physical torture. She’d just hold it until she couldn’t anymore. Staring at the top of Brooks’s head, a twist of pain ripped through her gut. He was dirty. The strands of his hair stuck out at all angles, grease holding them in position better than hair gel. The scent of earth and sweat clung to him. When had he last been rewarded with a shower? No person should be forced to live like he had.

Brooks stirred. His hand tightened on her leg. Energy surged through her core. She curled her toes. It’d been a long time since someone had touched her there. Even though Brooks was half asleep and had no motive behind his actions, the movement still made the yearning lips between her legs pulse.

A low groan rumbled in her belly. Brooks sucked in a deep breath and stretched out his legs, his hand not moving from the increasingly warming spot. He lifted his head and slid his elbow under him to boost himself up. She slid her hand to his shoulder. “Did you sleep?”

A lopsided grin greeted her. “Yeah, I slept good. You?” His thumb stroked her pant leg, scant inches from her sex. Oh, no. If he did that again she’d be a goner.

“Pretty good.” The syllables trembled on her tongue.

He lowered his gaze to his hand, nestled between her thighs. Slowly, he removed it and rolled into a sitting position. With the added hormones flooding her loins, her bladder threatened to explode. She scooted off the bed and to the bathroom, where she shut and locked the door. When she finished her business, she washed her hands and stared into the mirror. Even though she’d removed her makeup the previous night, her eyes were slightly bloodshot, the skin around them puffy, and her color was paler than usual. The seven-hour stretch of sleep had made her feel human, but what had happened the long night prior wasn’t something she was used to. And it showed. She shoved her fingers through her blonde locks, smoothing the strands.

A rap at the door made her jump.

She popped the lock and opened the door. “Yeah?”

Brooks leaned against the door frame, his elbow resting higher than her head. “Sorry, I need to go badly.”

She sidled around him, her hip brushing his thigh and her shoulder grazing his ribs. Her eyes ached to linger on his delicious skin, but he closed the door before she could. Minutes later he emerged.

“You seem better,” she said, shaking out the pillows and making the bed.

He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t feel great, but better than yesterday.” He hooked his thumb toward the bathroom. “Do you want to shower first?”

She waved at him. “No. You go ahead. You need it more than I do.” The insult burned her tongue. “I mean . . .”

He chuckled and sauntered back to the bathroom. “It’s all right. Captivity will do that to a guy. I’ll be quick.” He shut the door, and she dropped on the bed.

He was different now. Not so high-strung and sure as hell less grumpy. She couldn’t get caught up. She’d help him get what he needed today to get on his feet, then they’d part ways.

She retrieved her phone from the nightstand and opened her browser. One thing circled through her mind—a name Brooks had muttered before falling asleep. Conrad Hornick. It didn’t ring a bell, but if researching the man gave her any insight into what had gotten Brooks into this situation, it was worth the time. She tapped her thumbs on the screen, soundlessly entering his name into the device, and hit the search button.

Multiple links popped up. She skimmed the headlines and her gut twisted.

Underground Cult Caught Trafficking Children

Group Home Used to Lure and Sell Children into Sex Slavery

A Dozen Underage Children Found in Sex Trafficking Bust

---