Read Online Taken and Kept (Reluctant BDSM) by Elaine Cara - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elaine Cara
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didn't have any cleavage for
him to look down.
"Was there anything appealing? Anything that
caught your eye?"
He put his hand on my face. I could see the
wrinkles and lines on his palm. "No more talking. I know what
you're trying to do."
I closed my mouth, my teeth clicking. I knew
my plan wouldn't work, and maybe I sabotaged myself before I
started. Kept myself from trying hard enough. My heart just wasn't
in it. He scared me too much, made me uncomfortable. I wanted
nothing to do with him.
He checked his watch, and then stood. He
grabbed my arm and led me to the closet. He shoved me inside and
shut the door. I hunched in the dark. The smell of musty moth balls
hit my nose and I gagged.
There was a knock on the hotel room. The
pizza guy. I wanted to scream. But I knew I would just get myself
and some poor teenager killed. So I waited, and listened to the
delivery person leave. I heard the door shut, and Paul flip open
the box. I heard crunching and smacking as he ate. I heard the
football announcer's deep enthusiastic voice, and the occasional
static as the TV reception went in and out.
And I heard my heart pounding. I pulled my
knees to my chest and rested my head. I heard the mattress squeak
as he got off the bed. The door opened, and light poured in. I
looked up at him, and he looked down at me. He pulled me out of the
closet.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
As if on cue my stomach growled. He motioned
to the pizza box, where one slice was left. I wiggled my shoulders
up and down.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I can feed
you.”
"Please just let me out of these. If I run,
you can shoot me."
He took out his keys, and unlocked my cuffs.
I breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed my aching wrists.
"Thanks,” I said.
He nodded and I ate the slice. I hadn't eaten
all day, and the pizza was like heaven to me. It was a small
generosity he afforded me that I was grateful for. I rubbed my
wrists. He turned off the TV, and lay back in bed. He patted the
space next to him.
I lay next to him. I listened to him breathe.
I stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. I wished I was back in my
own bed. I couldn't sleep. I wasn't close to tired.
Hours passed. Paul snored. How could he fall
asleep? Did he forget I wasn't cuffed? I sat up in bed. Moon light
filtered in through the pink curtains, illuminating his face. His
eyes were shut, his mouth hung open, and his lips rippled with each
snore.
I got up off the bed, making sure not to make
the mattress creak. I didn't want him to wake up. I tiptoed to the
door. I turned the deadbolt and removed the chain. The entire time
I never took my eyes off him. I held my breath until I thought my
lungs would burst.
I cracked the door, and the whooshing sound
of cars on the highway could be heard in the distance. He didn't
move. I ducked out of the door and into the outdoor hallway. I shut
the door slowly, quietly. My heart thumped. My stomach ached. Tears
welled up in my eyes from the stress and tension.
The latch clicked shut into place, and my
stomach bottomed out. I dashed down the hallway, to the manager's
office. I didn't look back. I reached the door and turned the knob
in my hands. Locked. I peeked in the window. The lights were on,
and there was someone sitting at the desk. I knocked on the window
to get their attention.
He looked up and got up and opened the
door.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Do you have a phone I can use?" I asked. I
tried to contain my anxiety, to keep calm so I didn't confuse the
guy.
"Yeah," he said and handed me a cordless from
the desk.
As I punched in 911 he raised his eyebrows as
I raised the phone to my ear. He seemed to look at something behind
me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.
Finally, the other line clicked.
"911, please state your emergency."
"I've been kidnapped."
The guy did a double take. He opened his
mouth to speak, but nothing
him to look down.
"Was there anything appealing? Anything that
caught your eye?"
He put his hand on my face. I could see the
wrinkles and lines on his palm. "No more talking. I know what
you're trying to do."
I closed my mouth, my teeth clicking. I knew
my plan wouldn't work, and maybe I sabotaged myself before I
started. Kept myself from trying hard enough. My heart just wasn't
in it. He scared me too much, made me uncomfortable. I wanted
nothing to do with him.
He checked his watch, and then stood. He
grabbed my arm and led me to the closet. He shoved me inside and
shut the door. I hunched in the dark. The smell of musty moth balls
hit my nose and I gagged.
There was a knock on the hotel room. The
pizza guy. I wanted to scream. But I knew I would just get myself
and some poor teenager killed. So I waited, and listened to the
delivery person leave. I heard the door shut, and Paul flip open
the box. I heard crunching and smacking as he ate. I heard the
football announcer's deep enthusiastic voice, and the occasional
static as the TV reception went in and out.
And I heard my heart pounding. I pulled my
knees to my chest and rested my head. I heard the mattress squeak
as he got off the bed. The door opened, and light poured in. I
looked up at him, and he looked down at me. He pulled me out of the
closet.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
As if on cue my stomach growled. He motioned
to the pizza box, where one slice was left. I wiggled my shoulders
up and down.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I can feed
you.”
"Please just let me out of these. If I run,
you can shoot me."
He took out his keys, and unlocked my cuffs.
I breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed my aching wrists.
"Thanks,” I said.
He nodded and I ate the slice. I hadn't eaten
all day, and the pizza was like heaven to me. It was a small
generosity he afforded me that I was grateful for. I rubbed my
wrists. He turned off the TV, and lay back in bed. He patted the
space next to him.
I lay next to him. I listened to him breathe.
I stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. I wished I was back in my
own bed. I couldn't sleep. I wasn't close to tired.
Hours passed. Paul snored. How could he fall
asleep? Did he forget I wasn't cuffed? I sat up in bed. Moon light
filtered in through the pink curtains, illuminating his face. His
eyes were shut, his mouth hung open, and his lips rippled with each
snore.
I got up off the bed, making sure not to make
the mattress creak. I didn't want him to wake up. I tiptoed to the
door. I turned the deadbolt and removed the chain. The entire time
I never took my eyes off him. I held my breath until I thought my
lungs would burst.
I cracked the door, and the whooshing sound
of cars on the highway could be heard in the distance. He didn't
move. I ducked out of the door and into the outdoor hallway. I shut
the door slowly, quietly. My heart thumped. My stomach ached. Tears
welled up in my eyes from the stress and tension.
The latch clicked shut into place, and my
stomach bottomed out. I dashed down the hallway, to the manager's
office. I didn't look back. I reached the door and turned the knob
in my hands. Locked. I peeked in the window. The lights were on,
and there was someone sitting at the desk. I knocked on the window
to get their attention.
He looked up and got up and opened the
door.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Do you have a phone I can use?" I asked. I
tried to contain my anxiety, to keep calm so I didn't confuse the
guy.
"Yeah," he said and handed me a cordless from
the desk.
As I punched in 911 he raised his eyebrows as
I raised the phone to my ear. He seemed to look at something behind
me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.
Finally, the other line clicked.
"911, please state your emergency."
"I've been kidnapped."
The guy did a double take. He opened his
mouth to speak, but nothing
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