Page 34 of Taken Online

I inch the door open.

Empty.

The bed is rumpled, the sheets tangled like he left in a hurry. The air smells faintly of his cologne, and I hate that I recognize it instantly.

He’s not here.

And yet… I don’t leave.

I sit on the edge of the bed. Let the silence settle over me.

I didn’t come here for him, I remind myself. I came here to feel like I had power again. Like I wasn’t just some broken doll he’s been gluing back together.

But sitting in his bedroom, alone, it’s hard not to feel pathetic.

Kaleb hasn’t messaged me in two days. Even when I sent a couple of pictures, he just hearted them. No dirty replies. No voice memos. Nothing.

The other guys? They’re background noise. All noise. They don’t see me. Not like Kaleb does.

And Blake?

Blake shouldn’t be on my mind this much.

But ever since he held me at the party, I can’t stop thinking about his arms. The way his voice softened. The way I clung to him like I was drowning.

I should’ve pushed him away. But I didn’t.

And now, lying back on his bed, I get horny just thinking about it.

I hate that I fantasize about letting him fuck me. About going back to that night and not pulling away.

God, if he walked in right now and wanted me, I wouldn’t say no.

Not even close.

He’s my therapist, sure. But what kind of therapist invites their client to a house party? What kind of therapist lets them into their bedroom?

He can deny it all he wants, but I know he wants me.

I know it.

And just when the thought becomes unbearable, I feel it.

A hand. Rough. Firm. Clamping over my mouth.

I freeze.

Another hand snakes around my waist, yanking me back against a solid chest.

I panic for a second, my heart skips. Is it Blake?

It has to be.

"Got you," a voice growls near my ear. Deep. Low. Dangerous.

It is him.

His voice sounds different, richer. Unfiltered. Less Blake the therapist and more... Blake the man.

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