Six(20)

And the other bag contained a pack of toiletries.

“Wow. Thanks, I guess.” I was really happy to have new panties, since he destroyed the only pair I had and I’d been commando all day in nothing but the shirt he gave me. And ecstatic for the toiletries, but I didn’t want to admit that to him. It was the little things in my situation that brightened the grime of my surroundings.

I yanked off the dirty shirt of his I’d been wearing for two days, not caring that I was naked in front of him anymore. Toiletries in hand, I felt his eyes on me with each step I took toward the bathroom.

It was a basic hygiene kit with travel sizes and a single blade disposable razor, but a huge improvement and even included much needed lip balm.

Cherry flavored, balm. My favorite.

Assessing the situation, I glanced from the shower to my cuff. The logistics of my predicament were about to make for an interesting shower dance.

There wasn’t enough slack to put my foot down into the tub, and the shower head was on the wrong wall to hit the front of my body. With some tricky maneuvering and bending and holding on for dear life, I scrubbed down with the horrible soap the motel provided. At least washing my hair was easy.

Once out, I did a quick brush of my teeth and towel off of my body and hair.

“You could have made it a little easier to take a shower.”

“You could have asked and I would have unlocked you.”

I blinked at his expressionless face.

Well…shit.

“Touché.”

With that, he stood and walked over while I pulled one of the bags closer.

“What are you?” I asked as I busted open the six-pack of generic panties. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Silver lining and all.

He mulled over my question as he unlocked the metal surrounding my ankle, allowing me to pull on my new bikini cut panties. His eyes never left my thighs or what was between them. “A killer.”

“I know that.” The new T-shirts only went to my waist, leaving me less dressed than I was before. Oh, well. I’d already lost a lot of modesty. What did it matter anyway?

He licked his lips and adjusted his hardening cock. Killers also seemed to be horny motherf*ckers. Then again, I had just shown him all my goods and done a little striptease of sorts.

“You asked me what I was.”

“You’re not one to give up information, are you?” I asked as I stretched my momentarily free leg.

“No. Information is power. Therefore, I don’t talk about myself to a stranger at a bar.”

My mouth popped open. “A jab? Wow. You know that’s what normal people do? Part of that whole getting-to-know-you thing.”

“I don’t want to get to know you, and I sure as hell don’t want you to know me.” He opened the cuff and snapped it back on, clicking the lock in place. All movement stopped, his gaze focused on the cuff.

I froze and looked down, taking in all the little lines the nail had dug into the metal.

Shit.

He reached forward, grabbed on to my neck, and slammed me face down on the bed. He pushed my head against the mattress, his body climbing over mine, caging me in place.

“Maybe I should have used all of the restraints and tied them to the bed in one continuous chain. That way you couldn’t move at all,” he growled into my ear. I whimpered and sniffed from pain. “I gave you room to move. I thought we had an agreement.”

“You really expect me or any other sane human being to just stay here? I want to go home, you *!”

“You can’t. You’re just another dead girl.”

He was straddling my hips, the bulge of his cock pressing against my butt cheeks.

“I was f*cking nice to you again, giving you room to move. Guess it’s back to being mean.”

With one hand he yanked on the brand new panties I’d just put on. The other hand was still pushing against my neck, but that didn’t slow down the popping of his button or the sound of his zipper sliding down.

How was that damn zipper one of the most erotic sounds I’d ever heard? The amp up of anticipation. The knowledge of my ability to move seemed to have left me along with my brain.

I should have been struggling against him. Instead I was pliant to his will, held by only one hand on my neck.

“Fucknugget.” The one word I could come up with as his cock found the opening to my * and he forced it in with a thrust of his hips.

“I never knew a hostage could have such advantages.” He let go of me, instead grabbing on to my wrists as he rotated his hips, pushing and pulling, rubbing against my sensitive walls. His teeth nipped against my neck.

Once again, the sane response was missing. Repulsion was replaced with what felt like jolts of electricity through my veins and the need for more.

“Rape is an advantage?” I asked, trying to sound offended by what he was doing.

But my body betrayed me, and I couldn’t stop the moan that left me. The f*cker snickered as he pulled out and pushed back in.

“You haven’t told me to stop.”

My eyes fluttered as he continued to hit a spot that spurred on the same jolts of electricity with each pass. “Doesn’t mean I want it.”

He sped up his pace, slamming against my ass. “Are you sure about that? Your * is awfully wet.”

Fuck. He was right. I was still turned on from the day before. Being used as a f*ck hole to a killer I couldn’t get away from wasn’t as appalling as it should have been.