by Vonna Harper
“I asked a question,” he said. “Why and when did you need counseling?”
“What does it matter?” Careful. You don’t want to set him off. “I’d been in a pretty bad accident.”
“Automobile?”
“Motorcycle.”
He nodded then started toward her, moving so slow she had time to note how his legs worked, the length of his stride, his erect carriage, flat belly, and too-dark eyes. Unwanted heat touched her pussy. Alarmed by her traitorous body, she concentrated on unclenching her jaw.
“You can’t keep me in here,” she said softly. “I’m sure you have what you believe are reasonable reasons for this, but it isn’t right.”
“Yes, it is.”
There wouldn’t be any reasoning with him when he was in this mental state. More to the point, things might go from unnerving to out of control if he discovered how her body was reacting. The heat between her thighs had to be fear-induced.
Not fantasy turning real.
“What makes you say that?” Even as her voice squeaked, she couldn’t be certain she was afraid. Everything was off center.
“One step at a time.” He stood just out of reach and held up a key she assumed was for the lock to her cage. My cage? “First, my name isn’t Daniel.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m not an investment counselor.”
“I, ah, wondered about that.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. Please, who are you?”
“Joe. Risinger.”
She knew better than to believe him, especially given how he’d thrown the words at her, as if he expected her to do something with them. Like understand more.
He was the most imposing man she’d ever seen and not just because of the advantage he held over her. If the world was upright and orderly like it had been before he’d knocked her out, he’d be the one behind bars. People in positions of power would have recognized the danger he represented and made sure he couldn’t endanger the unsuspecting public.
“There are going to be ground rules,” he said. “Starting with you answering my questions.”
“What questions? I don’t know—”
“I don’t believe you!”
Stifling a whimper, she hurried to the cage’s far end.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “At least I hope I don’t have to. That’s up to you.”
He controlled her world. The sooner she convinced him that she understood, the sooner he’d drop his guard. Then she could get free.
Hopefully.
“My mother—”
“Received a text from her daughter explaining that you’re going to be at sea for a while, out of contact. You’ll get in touch with her once you return.”
“She’ll never believe—”
“Yes, she will because she got another text, this one from Korbin Aldrich. He’s thanking her for loaning her beautiful daughter to him to help entertain several of his business associates. He’s most appreciative of her generosity.”
“Mr. Aldrich wouldn’t lie to her.”
“Wouldn’t he?”
A massive wave of panic nearly brought her to her knees. “What about my job?”
“You’ve resigned. Decided you didn’t want to work at near minimum wage anymore. You got a better offer.”
She loved her job with disabled children. True, the salary made paying her bills difficult, but after floundering for longer than she wanted to admit, she had focus and a long range plan. Getting a degree in physical therapy was a huge step in that direction.
“My classes?”
“Same thing. You got a better offer. One that frees you from needing a paycheck.”
It was too much!
“We’re wasting time.” There was an intensity to his voice, his patience being tested. “It’s time for you to start answering my questions.”
She studied how his body worked as he pulled a recliner close to the cage and sat in it. He elevated his legs and let his head fall back. If there weren’t bars, she might stand a chance of getting past him to the exit door, and from there she could get her bearings. She wasn’t as fast and sure on her feet as she’d once been, but she could still outrun a lot of people.
At least she could if she was free.
“How long have your mother and Ethan been married?”
The unexpected question opened her mouth. “What—two years come March.”
“And before that?”
“What do you mean.”
“How long did they date, if that’s what you call it?”
“Not long. Only a few months.” She didn’t know whether to be grateful because she could no longer see his eyes. She might be safer if she could judge his emotions.
“Why do you think that is?”
A trap lay ahead, the ground threatening to split apart and suck her into a deep, dark hole. She’d give a great deal to know where this was heading. Thinking to distract herself from the reality of how little she knew, she touched her necklace. The familiar inner-thigh tingling intensified until she wasn’t sure she could stop from squeezing her legs together so she folded her fingers into fists. Her nails dug into her palms.
“Why did they rush into getting married?”
“I don’t know.”
“But if you did, you wouldn’t tell me.”
He pushed the chair upright which brought his features into the light. Even though he was handsome, there was nothing easy about him. Thank goodness he hadn’t seen her trying to take comfort from her sole piece of jewelry. Hopefully, he didn’t know what it represented because she had no doubt he’d use it against her.
“What does your mother think of him?”
“Why are you asking?” He was toying with her, a cat batting his prey around. Wanting to see how she’d respond. Well hell, she wasn’t about to let him win. Her mother deserved her loyalty.
“You better answer if you want out of there.”
“That’s it? My betraying their relationship in exchange for freedom?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe nothing.” The way her legs ached, she surmised she hadn’t been unconscious for long. Undoubtedly it was still Tuesday and she’d been on the go since her alarm had sounded at six. “Are you a reporter?”
He leaned forward as if in preparation for standing. “A what?”
“There’s no limit to the depths some of those scum are willing to go for a story,” she challenged. No matter what had compelled him to kidnap her, this crazy man who called himself Joe Risinger wouldn’t kill her just because she refused to answer his crazy questions. “What rag do you write for?”
“I’m not a reporter.”
“You expect me to believe you?” She slammed her fist against the closest bar then winced.
“I expect you to tell me the truth. Why did your mother marry a man old enough to be her father? Was it the money?”
“Ask her.”
“I’m asking you, damn it.”
“Fine.” She glared. “My mother loves me and I love her. We’ve seen each other through some tough times. She deserves to be happy.”
“You think she is with that bastard?”
Not really. “Go to hell.”
“I’m already there.”
He planted his legs under him and stalked toward her. When he pulled a key out of a jeans’ pocket, she wrapped her arms around her middle and backed until she couldn’t go any further. He unlocked the metal door, and it swung open. She should be focused on the danger he represented, not allow his physical form to snag even the smallest part of her attention.
Watching her intently, he stepped into her space then folded his too-potent arms across his too-powerful chest and stared down at her. Every inch of her being zinged and twitched.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“I’m not listening.”
No, he wasn’t. Maybe he couldn’t.
A storm was building in him to challenge that thing called self-contro
l. The longer she returned his hard gaze, the more she sensed his inner battle. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was a predator. His barely controlled rage was directed at her while her overloaded system heated until she thought she might catch fire.
This wasn’t real.
Only it was.
“We’re leaving the cage,” he told her. “I’m going to sit back down. Once I’m comfortable, you’re going to pull down your leggings and whatever it is you’re wearing under them. Expose your ass.”
“No.”
“You’ll lean over my lap with your head down and arms dangling. Prepare for discipline.”
“No.” Her voice went up an octave.
“This isn’t up for discussion. You’re mine.”
No I’m not.
“Last chance. Either you tell me what I need to know or I’ll punish you.”
Punish. Something she’d long dreamed about, just not like this.
“You have no right.”
“I have reason. Nothing else matters.”
A mewling sound escaped despite her pressed together lips. Considering how hard she’d worked to recover from the accident she shouldn’t give up so easily, but instead of charging him, she stood with her heavy arms at her sides and her juices soaking her panties. Caught between desire and self-disgust.
“Got it?” he asked, although it really was a demand. “I walk out of the cage first. You follow and do exactly what I tell you to.”
“What if I refuse?”
“I understand your desire to protect your mother, but at this point I don’t know how involved you are with Ethan’s operations.”
Confusion warred with her uncontrollable reaction to what he was saying, how he formed the words. She knew all too well what helplessness felt like, namely bandages and broken bones, a hospital bed and burned flesh from a hot motorcycle tailpipe. A wired together jaw and missing teeth. There’d been nothing erotic about weeks of physical therapy or having to take nourishment through a straw. It was different today.
And she didn’t understand why.
“I’ll give you one more chance before I commence corporal punishment.” He stretched out his arms and gripped the bracing on both sides of the cage door’s opening. “That’s more than I’d intended to.”
“How generous of you.”
“Watch what you say.”
“I am,” she snapped. “Also, every word you speak will stay with me for my entire life.”
He shrugged. “That’s your problem. As for why we’re having this discussion—one reason—your mother has considerable contact with other actresses, lovely young women who would do just about anything for that one big break.”
He hadn’t asked a question. She didn’t have to respond.
“They know who Megara Crowl is married to.”
“I—guess.”
“Of course they do. Her husband is an influential man with considerable power. Reach and connections. He could produce said break for any ambitious or desperate female if his wife put in a good word for them.”
His words were taking a dark turn. She wanted to rush him, slam into him and knock him backward, but if she got free she might never determine what this was about.
“Your mother didn’t have much before she married Ethan. Her acting career had peaked. Taking his name opened new doors for her. She’s grateful. Willing to do just about anything to please him.”
She felt cold. “What are you saying?”
“I’m thinking about certain behavior we witnessed the other night. Ambitious young women letting Ethan’s guests know they’re available.”
“Hadn’t you left by—”
“That’s what I wanted Ethan to think.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I don’t know everything I need to. It wouldn’t take much for your mother to convince certain women to do what her husband wants them to.”
“She wouldn’t—damn it, that’s sick!”
“Bull shit.” Joe shrugged repeatedly as if releasing tension in his shoulders which only made it harder for her to concentrate on how much she loathed him. “How deep does your mother’s involvement with your stepfather’s affairs extend?”
Not caring if he saw, she dug her nails into her palms.
“What about you? Is it a family business? You interact with a number of female classmates. Even if you don’t want to act the pimp, it would be a simple matter for you to give Ethan’s phone number to those who meet his criteria. That’s all you’d have to do. You don’t need to concern yourself with what they wind up doing or what’s done to them. You don’t ask questions, just collect a paycheck.”
“You bastard.”
“The label’s getting tiresome, but it told me what I need to know, namely that you aren’t going to cooperate until you’re encouraged to.”
“Encouraged?” Like she didn’t know what he was getting at.
He let go of the bracing and in a couple of long strides reached her. She shoved against his chest, but there was no give to him. She’d tried to overpower a mountain and had failed.
Saying nothing, he hauled her out of the cage and planted her in front of the recliner. He forced her arms behind her then captured both wrists in his large hand. His breathing nearly as loud as hers, he yanked down on her leggings. With a second tug, her bikini panties joined the leggings, both items of clothing winding up around her knees.
His chore completed, he released her and settled himself in the recliner. He kept it upright.
“You can try to escape but the doors are locked both inside and out. Don’t try to talk me out of what’s going to happen. You forced my hand.”
As much as she wanted to argue that and maybe every point with him, she’d be wasting her breath. He wasn’t enraged, but self-control was a flimsy thing. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to hurt her. Not just spank, but hurt.
“To clarify we’re on the same page,” he said. “What’s going to happen?”
She swallowed repeatedly while trying to reconcile herself to the fact that she was standing within his reach while exposed from waist to knees. Nothing like this had ever happened to her, but it was going to tonight. She had no choice, no say in the matter.
“You’re—going to spank me.”
“That’s right.” He stroked his thighs. “I know you’re holding out on me, but it’s too late to try to save yourself from punishment. No answering questions from now on. Just experiencing. Being.”
She wondered if anyone had told him about how good he was at turning words into power. Her legs braced but still trembling, she reached down and gripped the fabric tethering her legs. She knew better than to try to cover herself, but needed something to hold onto.
He was looking at her mons, undoubtedly noting her pubic hair. Could he tell she’d taken a razor to herself there about a month ago? Maybe it would matter if she told him she’d done the deed for herself and not to please a boyfriend.
“Do what I told you to,” he said. “And don’t try to get up until I give you permission.”
Hoping she wasn’t going to be sick, she positioned herself so the fronts of her legs were against his right thigh and leaned forward. She had to brace herself against his left leg to keep from falling forward. Blood rushed to her head blurring her vision but finally, somehow, she accomplished the task.
She stared at the floor, at her outstretched fingers, and moved her hips about until she felt anchored in place. Her head was too heavy to lift. Her nipples had hardened and pressed against his thighs giving away too much. Unwanted heat and moisture drew her reluctant attention to her pussy.
Damn!
He struck her, the blow catching her off guard. The swat was unlike anything she’d imagined, making her gasp and take in a quick breath.
The second swat was harder than the first. It landed fully on her right ass cheek, not a stinging sensation, but no-nonsense. She willed herself to prepare for the third, but he didn’t give her enough
time to put the one he’d just landed to rest before hitting her again.
The swats kept coming, hard, rapid-fire affairs that had her bouncing on his lap. She tried to wiggle out from under. Tried to find her voice so she could curse him.
He was hurting her, damn it. Punishing her soft, jiggling flesh. Taking her to a place she didn’t recognize. She kept trying to come up with a way to escape, heard herself beg him to stop.
She hated pleading. Hated knowing this stranger was in complete control.
Fear licked at her. She repeatedly told herself he wouldn’t cause real damage, but this wasn’t child’s play. Her breathing came quicker as she futilely clenched her cheeks against the continuous blows.
“You’re hurting me. God damn, you’re—stop it!”
She wriggled until she was in danger of sliding off his lap. He stopped and hauled her back in place then started in on her again, now using both hands. Slapping sounds filled the air and meshed with the bleating she couldn’t stop.
Her ass was going to catch fire! He’d pummeled both ass cheeks countless times and was now marching down the backs of her thighs. Her head lifted and fell as he neared her roped knees. She was swimming. Lost in sensation. Control a lie.
“There’s hell to pay when you don’t do as I command,” he said with his mouth near her ear. “A painful price.”
Eyes tightly closed, she struggled to make sense of his words. “I can’t—what do you want?”
“The truth.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
His so-called explanation made no sense, gave her nothing to build on. To hold onto. Feeling as if she was falling into a tunnel of her own making, she stopped trying to get away. Exhaustion had stolen everything except sensation. She concentrated on the growling pain. The other thing. She was alive so he could punish her. So she could bow to his command.
When her ass became numb, she stopped thinking of the measured blows as punishment. He was playing with her. Granted, his game was a harsh one she couldn’t free herself from, but maybe she didn’t want to after all. Her body belonged to him.
Boneless, she let her head sag. Her toes occasionally tried to dig into the flooring while her fingers fought to hold onto his legs.
His strikes slowed, became less intense. She wondered if he’d come to the end of whatever he’d planned for her. Asked herself if she wanted the same thing.
