Page 49 of Killer Confections
A rumbling laugh comes from the man gripping my neck. “Good luck getting home.”
“Fuck you!” Chance shouts back.
My stalker’s grip loosens before he turns me to face Chance’s retreating form. He grips my cheeks tightly, forcing me to watch my date leave.
“Why don’t you wave?” He asks tauntingly in my ear. “You’re never gonna see that fucker again after tonight, sweetheart.”
“W-what?” I stutter, my heart pounding like a drum. Terror grips me, making my breaths shallow and strained. The lurking insinuation behind my stalker’s words is heard loud and clear.
A deep chuckle echoes in the quiet, heat pooling in my stomach at the sound.
His voice…
It sounds like—
I’m spun around before a shoulder plants on my hips and I’m hoisted up. The world tilts as I gasp. I brace my hands on his mid-back, a strangled cry leaving me as an arm bounds my legs so I can’t kick.
“What the fuck?!” I shout, balling my hand and pounding the fist against tough muscle. A hard slap comes down on my ass, causing me to yelp.
He walks in the opposite direction and I’m forced to watch as he carries me off into the distance, away from anyone who could hear my cries and offer aid.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he laughs, the sound bone-chilling. “I promise we’ll have fun tonight. I’m not a complete monster.”
For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel any better. A sick sensation circles my gut, and I know I only have myself to blame. I provoked him and now Chance’s life is on the line and I’m about to be punished.
Oh, god. What if it’s like the last one?
My cheeks flame as I remember the big purple and red bruise that’s slowly fading from my ass. I couldn’t sit on myright side for three days. It’s still tender to the touch.
“What… what are you going to do to me?” I ask, my voice wavering.
He hums, rubbing a hand over my left ass cheek before giving it a hard, appreciative squeeze, leaving pain in its wake. My channel clenches in response and I try to fight my body’s reaction to him.
“Bad girls don’t get to know their punishment,” he responds, the hint of a smile in his tone. He stops in front of a really expensive-looking black car, opening the passenger door before lowering me off of his shoulder. He places me down in front of him, looking at me expectantly.
My eyes shift to the pavement before I make a break for it. I get two steps closer to freedom before rough hands grip my hips and pull me back into a hard chest. Something long and hard grinds into my lower back and my legs turn to jelly.
Fuck. No.
That’s not happening!
I would prefer for my guts to remain where they belong.
“You’re not helping your fuckin’ case, Loxley.” He growls in my ear. Hearing him use my name makes my insides quiver and I have to force down my arousal.
I push at his hands, my nails digging into his tattooed wrists as I claw at him. I move around, trying to jerk my body side-to-side to throw him off, but I’m halted when he moves me to the passenger seat, forces my head down, and shoves me in.
He holds me down with one hand to my chest before grabbing the seat belt and sliding it across my front. He buckles me in before slamming the door and walking to the other side.
I breathe heavily from exertion as I watch him climb in and start the car. He’s silent, face stoic as he pulls away from the curb and the engine revs.
I should be alarmed we’re barreling down a forty-five going seventy, but I’m currently so inside my head, I can’t even process the speed.
I’m clearly in trouble. That much is clear by the threats and the white knuckles gripping the steering wheel in a death hold. Not to mention I tried to run. But can he blame me? He basically kidnapped me. Did he expect me to come willingly?
I glance over at him, taking in his disheveled hair and the outline of a straight nose. It juts proudly from his face; the mask hiding the curved tip.
Fuck me.
