Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance) (35 page)

But I’d liked it. My body had responded.

I hated myself at that moment.

My stomach grumbled, pulling me from my pity and self-loathing party. Sitting up, I looked up at the camera pointed at the bed. Had he watched me after he left? Was he watching me now?

My eyes narrowed as I glared up at the camera. The damned camera. Anger surged through me as I stuck my hand out and gave the camera the middle finger. Flipping someone the bird was a useless, ignorant gesture used by people who weren’t intelligent enough to vocalize their grievances in a mature manner. Despite my previous feelings on the gesture, it seemed more than appropriate. I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of laughter echoing throughout the house.

Chapter 7

Emily

By the time I heard footsteps coming down the hallway I’d become so hungry that I think I would have done just about anything for a dinner roll, but I’d be damned if I’d let him know that. I quickly manned the position, sitting primly on the edge of the bed as I waited for him to enter.

The door opened and, thank God, he had a tray of food in his hands. Relief flooded me, and for the first time since he’d taken me I smiled at him, a real, genuine smile.

“Now look at you. What have I done to warrant a smile?” He motioned with his head toward the tray.

Getting up, I walked over to him and accepted the tray and quickly made my way back to the bed. With my legs crossed in front of me, I placed the tray on my lap and surveyed the contents. Pizza! He cooked me a meat pizza. And it looked amazing. With the pizza came a bottle of soda and some cheese breadsticks.

Smiling, I picked up one of the two large, triangle-shaped slices and took a bite. It tasted like heaven, the mixture of cheese, pepperoni and bacon teasing my tastebuds. I released a low moan as I chewed and opened my bottle of soda.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you like it.”

I shook my head without bothering to look up. Grabbing a breadstick, I devoured it in seconds. One good thing about being a captive was the fact that I didn’t have to care about table manners. I could make a pig out of myself without caring what he thought of me.

Once the first slice was finished, I chanced a glance up at Tanner to see him staring at me, clearly amused. “Why were you late with dinner, Sir?”

He laughed, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “How do you know I’m late?”

 
“’Cause I’m so hungry. I’m never this hungry, so I assume you were late.”

“Yeah, I had some business to attend to.”

I licked my lips as I eyed him. “What kind of business?”

“None of your business type of business.” Despite his words, his smile didn’t fade and there was a lightness in his tone. For the first time since I’d been taken, I started to remember why I’d been attracted to him at the club. He was really sexy when he smiled and wasn’t being a demanding, chauvinistic, narcissistic, rapist dick.

“Just wondering.”

“And you’re becoming a little lax with the Master/Sir responses, darlin’. I think you might want to keep that in mind.”

“Yes, Sir.” I was so happy with the food, I didn’t even begrudge the fact I had to call him Sir. It’s funny how situations like that give a girl perspective on what’s really important. Finished with my meal, I set the tray to the side, then looked up at him, waiting to see if that was all he wanted of me for the night.

“All right, since you appear to be finished, we have a little something that needs to be done.” He stood and grabbed a small black leather bag that he had set next to him on the chair. I’d been so excited to see the pizza I hadn’t even noticed he had anything else with him.

“What’s in the bag, Sir?”

“Come with me to the bathroom.” He crooked his finger at me and started walking toward the bathroom, knowing I’d follow. It immediately became clear what he planned on doing. Knowing there was no point in protesting, I got off of the bed and followed. I should have known there would be a price to pay for the pizza, but oh my, it had been a good pizza.
 

“If you leave the stuff here I’ll do it myself, Master,” I said as I entered the bathroom where he was patiently waiting, reclined back against the bathroom counter.

He laughed. “So you can attempt to slit my throat when I return with the razor? No thanks.” He patted the countertop. “Hop up.”

I hesitated to jump onto the counter. “I wouldn’t slit your throat. Murder’s a sin, Master.”

“Right. So I heard. Hop up.” He patted the countertop again. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

The tone of his voice changed, becoming agitated. I hopped up. What did it matter anyhow? He’d seen my…my…pussy already. God, would I ever get used to using that word? It sounded so dirty and unladylike. Fighting would only make it worse, ending with me being tied down and possibly cut.

He unzipped the bag and pulled out some shaving cream and a razor. His eyes shifted to my legs and he frowned. “I think we’ll do your legs as well. Get that out of the way first.” I didn’t answer, just watched him as he popped the top off the can of shaving cream and began to lather up my legs. What surprised me was how tender he was, certainly not what I’d been expecting, his fingers taking the time to knead and caress the muscle.

“I can really do this myself. If you want to watch…”

“Put your left foot on my shoulder.”

Just suck it up, Emily. The quicker we get this done, the better,
I coached myself.
Besides, if he has nothing better to do than to shave my legs and…other spots, whatever.

Grabbing the razor, Tanner began at my ankle and slowly drew the razor up, taking care not to cut me. There was something curiously sensual about the way he went about it, his entire focus on me, not missing a spot as his fingers caressed my leg just above the knee. Not exactly what I’d expected, and it was rather baffling. After each strip, he rinsed off the razor.

After several minutes he finished the first leg and wiped it down with a damp cloth, leaving it perfectly smooth. “Other leg.”

“All right.”

He looked up to meet my gaze, one brow cocked. “All right what?”

“Master.”

“Better.”

Does he get off on doing this?
I wondered as I watched him remove the hair from my second leg. Was it something men liked to do – some weird, secret fetish, like sucking toes?
 

“What?”

“Huh?” I lifted my gaze from my leg to meet his stare.

“You look like you have something to say. What is it?”

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to, Master.”

His jaw clenched tight, causing the muscles in his neck to tighten. “Say it.”

“Is this…” I waved to the shaving creams and his hand holding the razor. “I mean, do you like this?”

The look he gave me was so peculiar I almost laughed. It looked as though he was trying to figure out what in the hell I was trying to get at.

I cringed. “I mean, does it turn you on, Sir?”

A bark of laugher erupted from him as he set down the razor and grabbed the shaving cream. “Why? Is my virgin church girl starting a list of what turns her abductor on?”

“I’m just curious. I mean, you seem pretty…intense. Like, when you’re doing it.”

“I’m intense when I do most things. Now lean back and spread your legs wider.”

Now that his attention was fixated on my mound, my insecurities kicked into high gear. Instead of doing as told, I attempted to pull my foot from his shoulder and close my legs completely. His hand shot out so quickly to grip my neck that I didn’t even have a chance to react. He forced me backward roughly, the back of my head slamming against the mirror – a low “oomph” escaped my lips and I heard a soft crack, not sure if it was my head or the mirror; since I didn’t feel any blood flowing down my head I assumed it to be the latter.

“Please,” I gasped, my hands going to his arm, attempting to remove his hand from my throat. But he was too strong and his grip tightened, cutting off my air supply completely. I clawed frantically at his arm, leaving long scratches on his forearm.
 

“I thought we were past this. Are you going to stop being a spoiled little bitch and do as told?” he snarled. His dark eyes had grown cold, all humour that had been in them gone. He was going to kill me. God, oh God, I was going to die. I wasn’t ready to die and certainly not over the fact that I was too scared to let him shave me.

I attempted to nod and let my legs go slack, no longer fighting him – surrendering. He immediately released my throat and picked the can of shaving cream back up as I trembled, gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry, Master.” Where his violent reaction had come from, I didn’t know. But it reminded me of one thing. He wasn’t my friend, he was my kidnapper. And oh my God my head was beginning to throb.

Tanner palmed my mound, caressing me, going from violent to tender in seconds. “I’m trying to do things differently with you, Emily.” His eyes lifted from my pussy to meet mine. “But it’s hard to keep the beast at bay when you defy me. We can play this nicely or the way I would normally play it, but either way I’ll get what I want from you. Are. We. Clear?”

The beast? I opened my mouth to respond and then snapped it shut again. What did he mean by beast?

Demons, baby girl. He’s got demons inside of him that need to be exorcised.
I wasn’t sure – up until that point – if I believed my father’s belief that demons existed. It was one of the many things I had a hard time wrapping my head around and had me questioning my faith. But what if Father was right, had been right all along? But if he was right, then was this behavior really Tanner’s fault? Wouldn’t Tanner be as much of a victim as I was? I searched Tanner’s eyes for an answer, but his eyes offered none.

Suddenly a conclusion struck me; God’s plan for me. Everything happened for a reason and sometimes it’s not clear what God has in store for us, but I thought I’d discovered mine; maybe I was Tanner’s salvation. Maybe I’d been at that club that night so I’d be the one taken instead of Bonnie, because I could help him. But, how could I do that? How could I rid him of the beast so he could be whole again?

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you all right?” Tanner put his hand behind my head and pulled it forward.

“I’m okay. What are you doing, Master?”

“Just checking for blood.” His dark eyes narrowed at me, then he gave his head a little shake and redirected his attention to my pussy. “Forget it. Let’s get this done.” He shook the can and sprayed a glob of shaving cream onto his hand and massaged it into the hair of my mound. His hand caressing me reminded me of his earlier caresses and the pleasure he’d brought me. I felt a stirring between my legs and a tingle of need. I didn’t want to feel this way, begged my body not to respond, but my body was betraying me. “Lean back a little further.”

I did as told without hesitation, spreading myself a little wider. The coolness of the bathroom air teased my exposed pussy. I couldn’t let my modesty get in the way of what I’d determined to be my more important mission, although I wasn’t sure what was more detrimental to me at this point, my reaction to him or my modesty.

“How long have you been doing this, Sir?” I asked just as he placed the razor at the top of my mound, at the hairline. He paused the razor on my flesh and looked up, catching my gaze.