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“There weren’t until you mistook me for someone who wants to physically harm you.”
My brain staggers beneath the weight of what he’s saying. “But, I haven’t left the loft since last night. How did you get a camera in here?”
“Accept that I’m extremely resourceful, Lucky, and take off the towel.”
I shake my head, my gaze still searching the room. When I don’t find it, I glare at the box. “Where is it?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I want to find it and rip the damn thing out.”
“Why?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“You’re still distressed,” he observes coolly.
My breath puffs out in disbelief. “I wasn’t when I came out of the shower.”
He doesn’t say anything. Not for a good minute.
Exasperated, I look around the room again. “What, you don’t like me pointing out that you’re the cause of my distress?”
“No. I regret that I’m not there to…see to it.”
The brief hesitation in his words convinces me he doesn’t mean soothing my distress in the normal, comforting way. The thought of how he would comfort me makes my heart skip a few beats. Not enough to abandon the totally fucked up set of situations he’s ramming down my throat right now.
“Q—”
“Take off the towel, Lucky. I prefer not to ask again.”
“I prefer that you give me your word that you won’t do anything about Clay.”
“You have my word.”
I exhale in relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I stay seated, stare at the box for another ten seconds. Then I slowly lift my arms and let the towel fall loose into my lap.
His breathing alters. “Fuck, you have the most perfect tits, firecracker. I can fuck them all day, you know that?”
My breath shortens and my fingers slide into my hair just to give me something to do with my hands. “You’d need a couple of pills of Viagra for that,” I joke.
He pauses a beat. “Hmm, it’s not an unappealing idea.”
I freeze in place. “What? You take Viagra?”
“Not normally. But I would with you, to minimize the recovery periods in between fucking you. The thought of giving it to you, making you come continuously all day and all night blows my fucking mind.”
I try to control my breathing, but the imagery he’s projecting is messing with my ability to think. Hell, it’s messing with my everything. I’m aware my nipples have turned into tight, painful points and my hairless pussy is growing damp. My mouth dries, then surges with saliva as decadent thoughts flood my brain.
“Does it turn you on, Lucky?”
A short, torn moan is my answer.
“Shall I make it happen, firecracker?”