Loading...
Loading...


Quickly exiting the car I hit the button, lowering the gate back down. I look at the security cameras monitor and see a squad car turning the corner down the street, heading my way.

I breathe out hard, pissed off that we were a few seconds away from a real situation, one that never should have happened in the first place.

A muffled, “Hey,” sound comes from the back seat of the car.

What am I going to do with her?

I know damn well what I want to do with her, there’s no doubt about that.

What needs to be done is something else entirely.

I march over to the car and look into the window to the back seat.

“Can you let me out?”

I just stare at her, my little captive in her own damn car. The girl who’s come here twice now. Twice. Yeah, she’s crazy. And she’s making me crazy in the process…crazy for her.

She looks so damn cute in there in the back. It’s not that she’s asking for freedom, it’s something else entirely. There’s just this innocence in her eyes as she looks up at me, but I know that innocence is a mask for the fire inside.

It’s always the quiet ones, the shy ones, you have to watch out for.

“Let me out! You can’t keep me in here.”

What? She’s going to call the cops? I’ve got the walls of this place lined with cell tower reception blockers, and they’re set to on. Not a single call going out or coming in right now. WiFi signal either.

“Wait,” I say, moving over to one of the workbenches.

I find a clean shop towel and make my way back to the car.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“You want out of that car, you close your eyes.” I’ve got a lot to do today and I don’t have time for her games. Not now, not ever.

Except a whole bunch of different kinds of games we could play. Games I highly doubt she knows about, let alone has experience with.

She squeezes her eyes tight and I stick the key in the cars front door, unlocking it and reaching my arm around and unlocking the back.

I open the back door and reach for her hand.

The second our hands touch I swear I feel a spark and stop, trying to see if there’s static electricity from the concrete floor below.

There’s not. It’s not that kind of shock. Must have been from something else I touched.

“Why are you holding my hand? Can I open my eyes now?”

I don’t even realize how much time has passed or that I’d fully taken her hand in mine. It all happened subconsciously while my mind temporarily stopped.

I don’t like this. I’m not losing my edge, my mental clarity for a woman.

I feel anger shoot through me, but this time it’s directed at myself.

Something inside me reminds me this isn’t “a woman.” She so much more than that, even though I know very little about her yet. All I have to go on is the dossier the hacker provided me, which was a lot more information than her dad provided.

But learning about someone from a piece of paper versus real life are two separate things entirely.

And she separated herself from any other woman I’ve ever met the first moment I laid eyes on her.

I grunt at the romantic type of thought and give her a gruff, “No. Keep them closed. Don’t look at anything or touch anything either.”

I feel her hand pull back from mine as if my fingertips are a hot stove.

“Except me,” I say taking her hand again, feeling a void the split second she pulled away.

“You like touching me don’t you,” she says, wiggling her middle finger in my palm.

“Stop the games,” I say, but dammit…I smile. Thank god she can’t see me right now.

I carefully put the blindfold around her head, leaning in closer than I need to to take in the scent of her blonde hair. It doesn’t only smell good, but it’s so soft too…so feminine…so perfect.

“You will stand now.”

Her feet flop around looking for the floor and I realize she might bump her head on the way out.

“Wait,” I say, leaning in and picking her up in my arms and taking her from the vehicle.

“Oh,” she says.

I keep her high in my arms. This isn’t the time or place to hold her low. She’s light to start with so carrying her is like picking up a plastic shopping bag of feathers, but that’s not the point. I don’t want her brushing up against my dick, which has hardened to a painful length once again in her presence.

I carry her past the shipments in the warehouse and into a small meeting room, where I ease her down into a plush leather chair.

I can’t remember the last time someone other than myself was in this room, let alone my building.


Loading...
Spartacus: Vér és homok (Spartacus: Bosszú) | Ben Mendelsohn | Mary Poppins Returns