Page 12 of Savage Revenge (Savage Sins #1)

Jordyn

I COULD GET USED TO THIS

As soon as the door shuts behind him, I let out a frustrated sigh and hurl the nail file across the room. It hits the wall with a pathetic and unsatisfying clatter and slides to the floor. I need something bigger to throw. And breakable. Preferably at his head.

I press my fingers into my eyes and try to breathe.

It takes me a minute, but after I’ve calmed down a smidge, I glance down at the clothes he left for me.

I pick up one of his T-shirts that I’m not sure I can picture him wearing and bring it to my face.

The fresh scent of detergent tells me it’s clean, but the strength of his cologne tells me he sprayed it before he brought it to me. Unhinged motherfucker.

The corners of my lips curl up as I close my eyes and take another whiff.

My stomach tightens, and a tingling sensation blooms between my legs.

Why do I like that he marked his shirt before giving it to me?

What the hell is wrong with me? A lot, I’m quickly learning.

Because apparently, I have the hots for Cash, and that is creepy as hell.

The man kidnapped me. Drugged and kidnapped, to be exact.

I should hate everything about him. I definitely hate his cocky personality, but something about him stirs a yearning inside of me that I’ve never experienced.

Even Elliott hasn’t given me the kind of urges I get whenever I’m around Cash.

Everything feels like a push and pull between us.

He likes my smart mouth. As much as he tells me to stop being a brat, I can see it in the way his eyes sparkle whenever I sass him or say something he didn’t expect.

I’d bet good money that Cash hasn’t been challenged very much in his life so this is something new for him.

And if I’m being honest, which I hate myself for, I enjoy provoking him.

The attention he gives me, like I’m the only one who exists when we’re in a room, and how he keeps getting close to me—too close—makes me have desires I didn’t know existed.

Something tells me while Cash might let me be a brat to him most of the time, he’s the type of man who wants complete control in bed. He’s the type who doesn’t ask or fumble; he takes and gives, but at his own pace, and there’s nothing I’d be able to do about it.

Not that I actually want to fuck Cash. He’s an asshole. Besides, other than his terrible personality, he’s a gorgeous bad boy who probably has beautiful women falling at his feet. I’m the last person he would want to fuck.

Letting out a sigh, I grab the clothes and take them into the bathroom, avoiding my reflection as I strip out of my dirty outfit. I guess I’m going commando today since the only things he provided were sweats and shirts.

I reach into the huge shower and turn on the spray, waiting for it to heat up before I step in. The water scalds my body, but I don’t care. I let it burn, hoping to wash away this fucked-up cocktail of anger, confusion, and, God help me, want.

My hands slide over my skin, slower than they should. The image of his dark eyes locked on mine as he leaned in a little too close floating through my mind. He calls me kitten , and I should hate it, but I don’t. It feels special. Something only meant for me.

I let my fingers travel between my legs.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him. But I can’t stop.

As I run over the tiny bundle of nerves, I lean back against the tile, my fingers working as I picture those tattooed arms caging me in.

The way he smirked at me when he told me his dick gets hard every time I brat him.

And like a flash of lightning, I come harder than I want to admit, biting my lip to the point of breaking skin to keep from making a sound.

It doesn’t work, and I choke out a sobbing, “Daddy,” while I ride the forceful waves of ecstasy.

My pussy pulses as pleasure spreads through me, and when it’s over, I sag against the wall.

It takes me a few minutes to come back to reality, and when I do, I feel nothing but shame.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I whisper.

I’m not supposed to want Cash Savage. I hate him with all of my being.

And yet… there’s something about him I can’t shake.

Frustrated, I quickly wash my hair and body with the brand-new bottles of soap and shampoo left in the shower and then get out to dry off.

When I pull the shirt over my head, it falls to mid-thigh and hangs off one shoulder.

It could practically be a dress. All I’d need to add is a sparkly belt and some heels.

The thought makes me laugh.

Kidnapped chic.

His sweats are huge too, and I nearly break the string on them trying to get them tight enough so they don’t fall off. I guess now is a time to be grateful for my big butt since it’s helping to keep them in place.

Gotta look on the bright side.

A knock at the bedroom door startles me. Before I can answer it, it creaks open, and an older woman comes in carrying a tray of food. She’s got soft brown eyes, a round face, and the kind of smile you instantly trust.

“Good morning, darling,” she says warmly. “You must be Jordyn. I’m Birdie. I’ve brought you some breakfast.”

The smell of coffee, mixed with something buttery and sweet, makes my stomach growl. I force myself to ignore it.

“Birdie, it’s nice to meet you. Do you think you could, uh, call the cops for me? Tell them I’ve been kidnapped and give them the address here?” I ask with an innocent grin.

Edith wouldn’t help me out, but I have a good feeling about Birdie.

The older woman smiles, the lines near her eyes crinkling as she does. “You’re in good hands here, Jordyn. Just relax. Consider this a little vacation. Live it up in Cash’s house. Take a dip in the pool. It will be nice.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “A vacation?”

She sets the tray down and then brushes a crumb off her apron. “Cash only wants answers, darling. I think you’ll find he’s not nearly as cruel as he pretends to be.”

I narrow my eyes, suddenly feeling on edge. “I don’t think you know the man you’re working for.”

Birdie shrugs, her warm brown eyes sparkling. “I know exactly who I’m working for. Give him a chance, darling.”

She’s gone before I can respond, leaving me alone with a tray of croissants, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee.

I can’t resist the coffee, and as soon as I take a sip, everything feels a little less fucked up.

Even if it only lasts for a minute or two, I’ll enjoy my moment of bliss.

I’m restless.

It’s only been an hour since breakfast, and I’ve walked every square inch of this enormous, beautiful bedroom, looking for a way to escape.

Unless I’m suddenly able to climb the walls to get to the ceiling and then magically shapeshift into a tiny version of myself and fit through the air vent, I’m pretty sure I’m stuck.

The house seems quiet, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. He’s a man on a mission, though, so he could be out looking for my father as we speak.

Part of me hopes he finds him quickly so he can put this whole thing to rest. Then again, will Cash be willing to hear my father out, or is he just going to kill him to make himself feel better?

It’s all so messed up. I want to believe in my heart that my dad isn’t capable of something so horrible. But then there’s the doubt. Is everything on the up and up?

I was away for college for six years getting my master’s degree in business.

Something my grandma insisted on. She wanted me to sow my oats before I took on the responsibility of the family business.

I know she meant well, and I had fun on campus over the years, but to me, there’s no party like a Las Vegas party.

I guess it made me appreciate it here so much more when I came home.

It’s possible my father could have done anything before I took on the CFO position.

I never thought to look at past records, but now… I wish I had access.

I let out a sigh, my chest heavy. Sitting in this room all day isn’t going to be good for me and my racing mind. Cash did say I could go anywhere in the house or backyard.

Slowly, I make my way to the door, hesitant as if it might burn me. When I turn the knob and open it, I freeze. Huh. For some reason, I thought it was going to be locked. That Cash had only said that to mess with me.

Caleb stands outside, arms crossed, his lips twitching as he stares down at me. The man is nearly as insufferable as Cash. The only difference is, I don’t want to see Caleb naked.

Good lord.

I need help.

“Good morning again,” he greets with that one-sided smirk of his.

Cocky asshole.

“Fuck off,” I snap, glaring up at him, then start down the hall.

Of course, he’s right on my heels. “Do you ever say anything else?”

“Stop following me, stalker.”

“Sorry. Can’t do that. I’ve been given orders. Just pretend I’m not here.”

I roll my eyes and glance back at his towering frame. “I wish I could, but you’re kind of hard to miss, dude.”

He grins, and I hate how it almost makes me smile. I should hate every second that I’m here. And every person who is helping Cash keep me hostage. Not finding them kind and amusing.

The house is set up like a lot of mansions.

A west wing and an east wing with the foyer bringing it together in the center, so the layout is shaped like a U.

Everything in here is polished, shiny, and modern.

Nothing too obnoxious, which I have to admit surprises me.

I figured Cash would have statues and artwork of naked women or something.

Despite the house being quiet, there are men at every turn. Guards, to be exact. Near every hallway, window, and possible exit.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I march up to the man standing near the front doors, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Move,” I bite out with the sternest look I can give.

The guy doesn’t blink, and he doesn’t get out of my way either. Instead, he stares at me with a smug smile.

Finally, I huff and flip him off, then spin around and storm back the other way. Caleb laughs as he tails me.

“God, you’re so irritating,” I mutter.

“I’ll work on that, Miss Kingston.” His tone tells me he is not, in fact, going to do any such thing.

I finally find the kitchen, where Birdie is wiping down a counter. “Back already, darling? What can I get for you?”

Ugh. I do not want to like her, but I also want to hug her.

“I wanted some more coffee.”

She grins and pours me a cup. “It’s Cash’s favorite blend. Imported. Strong.”

I sip and let out a small, happy sigh. “Don’t tell him I like it.”

Birdie pats my arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Taking my coffee with me, I leave the kitchen and wander into a large living room at the center of the house with floor-to-ceiling windows on the outside wall.

On another is a long, glassed-in fireplace that spans the entire length of the TV mounted seamlessly above it.

Everything is sleek and shiny. Smooth lines and monochromatic colors.

Totally Cash Savage. And I don’t hate it either, if I’m being totally honest. Outside, the pool sparkles like glitter.

It’s unfair how beautiful this place is, considering it belongs to a total psychopath.

“I want to go out there,” I tell Caleb, motioning toward the French doors.

He shrugs. “You can. Just don’t try anything stupid.”

I point to my bare feet and glare at him. “I might want to get out of here, but I’m not dumb enough to run through the desert with no shoes on.”

“You were going to go out the front door barefoot.” He smirks.

“Because I figured there were cars out there I could steal. Duh.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay, how about no more talking because I can’t stand you,” I quip.

He laughs, and I want to flip him off, but instead I turn my back to him so he can’t see my smile.

I step outside and sink into one of the lounge beds beside the pool.

While it’s early in the day, it’s already hot out here.

It’s also quiet, other than the sound of the large waterfall on one end of the pool.

I could definitely enjoy some time out here with the tall palm trees providing bits of shade and the smaller ones giving the area a tropical and serene feel.

As I let out a long breath, I set my coffee beside me and stare at the brilliant blue water. My thoughts continue to churn as Cash’s questions replay in my head about my father, the business, and the money.

It’s bullshit. It’s got to be.

Yet, part of me thinks that Cash might be right.

And I hate that.