Page 14 of The Vigilante's Lover
I don’t know if he will kill me. He seems so well dressed for a murderer, so gentlemanly in how he talks, even when he’s accusing me of lying. Jax De Luca. Who is he? How did he get out of jail?
He assumed my aunt had been murdered. This must be his life.
Moments pass, and still, nothing. My thighs grow weary of clenching together. Is he not going to do anything?
Now I’m not sure what I feel. Disappointment? Surely not. But something eases. The terror drops a notch.
Carefully, slowly, I open one eye.
Jax is watching me with amusement. “That’s all you’ve got?” he says. “Clenching in fear? Surely you’ve finished at least Phase One training if you’re in a safe house.”
I don’t know what he means. My thigh muscle cramps, and I’m forced to let my loose leg down. The other one is still tied to the bedpost.
“I mean, that was a very convincing scream,” he goes on. “But I had expected something more…titillating.”
Anger blossoms in me. What the hell does he want from me? Some grand seduction?
“I’m not exactly in a position to manhandle you.” I wiggle my fingers in the bonds.
He laughs again, less forcefully this time. It’s actually sort of…charming.
“So you write about bondage but you can’t escape it?”
I finally get the courage to glance down at my body. My thighs peek through a tangle of white strips. My panties are in full view. The nightgown is more fitting of a prostitute now. My face flames with embarrassment. I cross one leg over the other again. I don’t care how much they cramp.
“You were right about the gown,” Jax says. “Can’t spread very wide in that awkward thing.” The one-line letter lies between us like an accusation. “I fixed it for you.”
His gaze travels the length of my body, pausing on my breasts, which are fat and round inside the crisscross of the rope binding. Thankfully the white gown is thick and hides how my nipples pucker up as he looks at me. A rush of heat blasts through my body. Despite what is happening, I feel a tingle, like parts of me are waking up for the first time.
Something beeps in the corner of the room. We both turn.
Jax walks over to the lampshade on my dresser and pulls a small oval-shaped device from inside.
“What is that?” I ask.
He stares at it. “Well, this safe house is compromised,” he says darkly. “Good thing I already pilfered the stockpile.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You deny it to the end.” He shakes his head as he reaches for the slipknot at my wrist and expertly unwinds it from the bedpost. My arm drops to the bed. I can’t even move it, so little blood is flowing.
“Are you letting me go?” I ask as he reaches across me for the other arm. He smells expensive, like fine clothes and luxury cars. I stifle the urge to inhale deeply.
“Oh, no. You’re coming with me.” He unties my ankle.
As soon as my leg is free, I snap my knees together. He tilts his head. “A little late for modesty,” he says.
I kick at the sheets and pile them around me, creating a shield.
Jax laughs. “If I know your type, we’re going to be carnallyacquainted very soon.” He leans over and holds my chin tight in his grip. “I am happy to take advantage of whatever skills you want to test on me, but don’t think your wiles are going to get you anywhere.”
His face moves in super close, just inches from mine. I can’t breathe, his lips are so near. If I leaned forward, I could kiss him, feel the stubble of his cheek. I want to. I don’t care what he’s done, breaking into my house, tying me up. I want that kiss.
I’m losing my mind. He’s a stranger. A convicted felon. I can’t want this. I can’t want him.
He pulls away and jerks at the ties still encircling my wrists. He tugs my hands behind my back, locking them down with the binding on my waist. The rope makes a sizzling sound as he pulls it through, and I shiver. I should not be feeling so attracted to this man. I try to summon my fear and anger, but I’m still on fire from his closeness, and how what he’s doing matches his letters.
“Can you stand?” he asks.
