Page 13 of Kept

I feel the hard press of his cock against my ass, which only makes me more aware of my increasingly wet panties. He makes no move to release me.

“So, and I’ll remind you that I expect the truth, who is Robert?”

“A friend,” I tell him again.

His lips are hovering just above my ear, and every single hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “Liar.”

“I’m not!”

He laughs. “Not a good liar either.” He traces a finger from my temple, down my face, and the side of my neck. He taps right over my pulse point. “I can see your heart beating right here when you lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! He’s a friend.”

He taps the pulse in my neck in a quick, fluttering beat. “Omission is not absolution, kitten,” he whispers.

The heat between my thighs is reaching wildfire level, and every brush of his warm breath against my neck sends a pulse of need straight down to my core. The arm wrapped around my waist reaches to my wrists, pulling one, then the other, around behind me, and he holds them both in one giant hand. “I’m beginning to think you didn’t believe that I was sincere when I explained that the expectation during our conversation is the truth.”

I try to pull my arms. “Let go of me.” My torso thrashes against his chest as he laughs, and I can feel it reverberate through my back.

“What is this?” he asks, looking over my shoulder and down the deep V of my halter neck. The fabric has slowly ridden down and the lace cups of my unlined bra are now half visible, as is the top corner of my driver’s license and credit card. I really need to stop putting everything in my bra when I go out.

I almost moan when his forearm brushes over my breast as he reaches to pull the cards out.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He absently tosses my credit card onto the coffee table but stops to review my ID card before pulling his phone out with his free hand. He is speaking Italian, but I hear him read my name, birthday, and license number into the phone before he hangs up. Then he tosses the ID onto the table next to the credit card.

“You were clearly not alone in that alley,” he says.

I don’t reply. Courtesy of Robert’s blabbing, that ship has sailed.

“Are you planning on telling me who Robert is?”

“Nobody okay? I was in front, saw everything, and then pushed him away before he came around the corner. He didn’t see anything.”

“On second thought, keep lying to me. I’m going to enjoy teaching you all the reasons why you shouldn’t.” He moves closer, placing the words directly in my ear. “And don’t pretend like I can’t feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, kitten.”

I feel the blush start at the roots of my hair and fall down my skin until I’m mostly certain even my toes are pink.

With one foot, he pushes the ottoman away, and it skids to a stop in front of the massive windows. He stands, picking me up and setting me gently back on my feet. Still holding my wrists behind my back, he walks me towards it like an 80s cop dragging a perp through the station.

CHAPTER 8

Sarah

The few feet between the sofa and the recently relocated ottoman suddenly feels as vast as standing on one side of the Grand Canyon and looking towards the other rim.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Communicating,” he says simply.

We’re standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass, our reflections visible against the night sky. He holds me, not moving, my hands pinned behind my back in his firm grip.

“Now, kitten, I believe I told you what the rules were.”

“What?” My mind seems to have checked out, with no forwarding address given.

“What did I say the expectation was when I ask you a question?”

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