Six(33)

Six’s arm flexed, pulling my head back farther, bending me until I was staring up at the ceiling. My legs shook as he slammed into me. A few hard thrusts, and a low groan vibrated in his chest as his hips flexed forward. I felt him twitch inside, letting out each spurt of come.

He stayed buried deep before letting go of my hair and pulling out. A little smack to my ass before pulling my dress down right as the elevator pinged for the next stop. Six finished tucking his dick back in and grabbed on to my waist, bringing me to him. He pressed his lips to mine, devouring my mouth just as the doors opened.

“Gentlemen,” he said, nodding to our onlookers as he pushed between them.

Hot, wet come began to slide down my thigh as we walked, dripping down to the floor. A string of groans and curses came from the elevator as the doors closed.

“Did I just become fapping material?”

One of Six’s brows lifted, as did the opposite corner of his mouth, as he looked down at me. “Yes. That is a definite yes.”

Sometimes, Six wasn’t that bad of a guy.





We didn’t leave Paris right away like I thought, but it seemed Six liked to lay low until he got his next move together. My guess was he also wanted to stick around just in case. Instead of moving on, we’d spent three days held up in the hotel room while he talked to contacts.

They used a bunch of super spy slang or killer code, so I couldn’t understand half of what he said.

A lot of the rest of his time was spent working out in the room, probably to tease me.

Not that I minded being there, because it was a huge step up from the previous hotels, but I would have loved to see more of the city. The Louvre, Notre Dame, Versailles, along with so many other landmarks and quintessential Parisian architecture. It was a shame to be in such a city and not able to fully take it in.

So I sat there, studying the Eiffel Tower and the buildings around it along with the Seine, and watching people walk around with a freedom I once took for granted. A freedom I would never have again.

Where did being a homebody and workaholic get me? Stuck in one hotel room after the other for what was going to be the rest of my life.

At least I was allowed to indulge in some Parisian cuisine and, an order unbeknownst to my captor, wine. Gotta love room service.

“Are you going to drink that whole bottle yourself?” he asked, looking up from his laptop as I poured my fourth glass.

I stared at him as the last few drops from the bottle landed in my glass. “Yep.” Tipping the glass back I made sure to down the entire thing while he watched.

It burned, but I couldn’t help but love the flash of anger in his eyes. Somehow, some way, I got to the son of a bitch. Probably more than anyone else. I could annoy the f*ck out of him, make him lash out.

Sometimes the result was painful, other times pleasurable, but nevertheless, I got a rise, and nothing made me feel as alive as taunting Six.

Who was the f*cked up one again? I was beginning to think it was me. Rational humans didn’t react in such a destructive manner. Maybe it was due to my impending death. What did I have to lose that wasn’t already slated for demolition?

Self-respect was long gone. Anger and fear did nothing to help. I accepted. I kept living.

I did whatever the f*ck I could get away with.

Getting up from the sofa I’d been occupying for hours, I made a curvy path to the phone.

Time for another bottle.

The stupid phone was across the room, and I had a hard time figuring out the little symbols. I hit the most likely key and let it ring.

“Room service.”

Jackpot.

“Hi, can I get another bottle of Cabernet?”

“Lacey!”

I shivered, then pulled the phone away from my ear and turned to Six, holding my finger up to my lips. “Shh, I’m talking to room service.” Returning my attention back to the call, I couldn’t help give a little giggle.

“We will get that right up to you, madam,” the attendant said.

“Thanks.” I put the phone back on the receiver. “It’ll be here soon.”

When I turned around, I could almost feel his anger from ten feet away. His eyes were dark, and he was beyond pissed. Somehow, probably due to being a bit drunk from the wine, I wasn’t scared at all.

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread on my face as I walked back over to my sofa perch by the window.

A loud bang stopped my weaving. Six stood so fast the chair fell over, and he stomped toward me. My whole body heated, the thrill sending chills down my spine.

The smile never left my face as he fisted my hair, bending my head back to look at his furious face.

“Look, it’s the big, bad wolf.” Another giggle slipped out, but he didn’t laugh with me.

His jaw ticked, and his lip twitched up into a snarl. “Mean it is, because you need to f*cking learn a lesson.”

He yanked on my hair, making me cry out in pain as he led me across the room to one of his bags and fished out another damn roll of duct tape.

I poked the bear one too many times, and I had a feeling I was about to pay dearly for it.

We moved to the bed and he let go, shoving me down. I lay there as he spun me around, positioned me where he wanted, then grabbed hold of one wrist. First, he wound the tape around my wrist, then drew it around the bedpost, then spun it around my wrist again in the opposite direction, making sure to loop the strands together.