Page 223 of Love Me in the Dark

When I wokeup the morning after my complete humiliation in the yard, my captor was in the bathroom. The collar was tethered to the bed again, so all I could do was sit and wait for him. And think.

The one thing I absolutely did not want to do was remember anything of the previous day. My cheeks heated with the memory. How could I have let him play my body the way he had? He’d taken something so horrible, so inhumane, and turned it into a white-hot flame burning in my core.

The water in the attached bathroom turned off. I could hear the shower curtain pull back. He’d be out any minute, and I’d wasted my time alone remembering the horrors of last night instead of coming up with a plan to get away.

Someone had to have noticed I was gone. I’d been taken on a Thursday night, so no matter how long ago that was, I’d have missed at least one shift at the library.

Taking the job overseeing the children’s department in a small north Chicago branch hadn’t exactly been a dream come true, but it was a job. And after the stretched-out war of a divorce I’d depleted my savings and my energy on over the past two years, a job far away from Tennessee is what I needed. It hadn’t been glorious, but it was a calm atmosphere, and it paid well. I had hopes for a brighter future, a new beginning after a horrible marriage; and now look where I ended up.

The door to the bathroom swung open. Steam billowed out ahead of him as he stepped into the room with a single white towel wrapped around his waist. I kept my head lowered, but through my eyelashes, I could make out his muscular torso and the harsh cut of his biceps. It was when I glanced up at his face that my breath caught in my throat.

He’d shaved. The long, shaggy beard was gone, but before I could get a clear look, he turned away toward the dresser. His back muscles moved beneath his skin, water droplets slid down his spine as he pulled out a pair of boxers and jeans.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, pulling the towel from his waist and tossing it onto the dresser. I quickly turned my head after getting a healthy glimpse of his tight ass.

“I’d sleep better in my own bed.” I leaned back against the rods of the headboard and pulled the blanket up to my chin.

He pulled a black T-shirt over his head and tucked it into his jeans.

“Do you need to use the washroom?” he asked, running his hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end in places.

“No.” I shook my head. I’d hold it until the last second before I admitted it.

“You can use the washroom here.” He turned around and pointed at the bathroom door behind him.

I blinked, taking in his face. No one as cruel as him should be so beautiful. Without the beard hiding his features, I could seehow attractive he was. If he’d approached me on the street, I’d probably have given him my number. And then he would have tied me to his bed and forced me to eat from a doggy bowl. I had that sort of luck with men.

But there were more than just good looks here. There was a familiarity. I’d seen him before. He walked over to the bed and unlocked the chain from the back of my collar.

“Don’t be too long and leave the door open.” He tossed the chain across the pillow beside me. The pillow he’d slept on. I’d been so tired and stressed by the time he brought me back to the bed I hadn’t questioned him about where he’d sleep. I was only too happy that he hadn’t brought me back down to the cell.

I scrambled from the bed and ran to the bathroom. It was tempting to slam the door and lock it, but when I turned back, he was gone from the room. I quickly relieved myself and washed up in the sink. My hair was tangled and wild. After a quick finger comb, I was able to get some of the tangles out, but at least I felt more human. Less like the animal he seemed hell-bent on making me.

Bacon sizzling caught my attention when I stepped into the bedroom again. I looked at the dresser. I could grab some clothing. Which would probably piss him off and make him lock me up again, or worse, bring out his belt.

I quietly made my way to the kitchen, where I found him plating up scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon onto his plate. My pink bowl was on the counter as well; steam from the eggs hovered over it. My chest tightened.

“Go to the table,” he said without turning around.

I walked to the same spot I was in yesterday, but this time I went for the chair.

“We can start the day with an ass whipping if you want,” he announced again without turning around. I looked down at the chair with its plump gray cushion and frowned. It wasn’t worththat damn belt. After shoving the chair back under the table, I sank to the ground. I sat on my ass and folded my legs over each other.

He turned off the burners and pushed a frying pan to the back of the stove before grabbing our food. His eyebrows shot up when he noticed how I sat.

“Is that correct positioning?” he asked, still standing at the stove. “Correct yourself so I won’t have to.”

I gritted my teeth.

“No.” I was taking the wrong road, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was enough that I’d been thoroughly humiliated, and he still wouldn’t allow me to sit in a real chair. I was not about to sit on my heels and be the sweet puppy for him.

“No?” He put his plate and my bowl on the counter again.

“I’m not doing this. I won’t do it.” I shoved up to my feet.Well, the fat’s in the fire now.

He had his belt off in a split second. I didn’t even take in the jangle of his buckle before he was on me, grabbing me by my hair and spinning me around. He pinned me over the table. The white-hot lash of the belt hit my thighs first.

“No! Please!” I’m not sure what I expected. I’d fully challenged him. Did I really think he’d just shrug it off and offer me his plate?