by Lane Hart
There’s no response.
“Now! Get your ass out here or I’ll bust down the door!”
I ram my shoulder into the heavy structure, but it doesn’t budge an inch even against my size and strength. And Hannah doesn’t come out. Not by the time we have to leave for the airport, and not by the time when our plane that we’re not on probably takes off.
By then, I’m so pissed off that I can’t even see straight to rebook a flight on my phone. Instead, I pick up the lamp on the table beside the bed, jerking the cord out of the wall to fling it across the room because I feel so out of control. Right then and there I make a vow that I will never have kids if it means having a girl like Hannah. Being a twin, there’s a possibility that I could have two of her.
Hell no.
I’m no more cut out to be a parent than Cannon, which is why I’m always on his ass about being careful. He doesn’t need to impregnate a woman who will suck every last penny from him in child support for the bastard kid he accidentally made.
And while I’ll never be able to handle out-of-control brats, I am a Savage fucking King and we don’t put up with anyone’s shit. It’s time for me to get creative if I’m going to ever get the child who locked herself in the bathroom home since she’s obviously not going to willingly step foot on an airplane. It’s not like I could carry her on board and hold her hostage in front of the other passengers and crew the entire time.
Despite her protests, I am going to drag her back. I have to. If I don’t, I risk losing everyone I care about – Cannon and my MC brothers, not to mention putting even more stress on my parents, who would be ashamed of me if they saw those videos.
I’ve never been glad for my kinks before now, but what do you know, I happen to have exactly what I need in my backpack to keep her from escaping. Not to mention I already have another form of transportation, one that’s more private. I wasn’t planning on using my small personal bondage stash when I packed it to bring with me. Mostly, I just wanted to make sure Cannon wouldn’t find it while I was gone if he went snooping through my room. Now it looks like it’s actually going to come in handy. I just hope that while using the restraints on Hannah, I’ll be able to keep myself in check.
Chapter Eight
Hannah
* * *
Things have gotten way too quiet on the other side of the bathroom door, out in the hotel room.
For a while, Conrad was shouting, and I thought I heard something break.
He’s pissed.
Good, because I am too.
He may think I’m acting like a brat, but I didn’t ask him to come all the way out here to bring me home. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions even if they’re bad ones. At least they are mine and no one is making them for me – like my father.
I hate that man so much that I can’t even put it into words.
All he cares about is his reputation and his stupid job. Being the police chief means more to him than his family or anything else. Which is so fucked-up. The things he’s done to me…if anyone deserves to be locked up in prison, it’s him!
I don’t know why my father suddenly cares what I’m doing now, four years after he shipped me off to an all-girls school, then right to an all-girls Catholic college. I only stayed on campus through high school because it was better than being homeless. But now he no longer has a say in what I do with my life.
It’s entirely mine, my life to make mistakes and fuck up however the hell I want. No more of him telling me what to do or making decisions for me.
And I’m not going to let his henchman or whatever Conrad is to him make decisions for me either!
That’s why I hunkered down in the bathroom for hours, making sure he got the message that I wasn’t getting on a plane with him. I hoped he would give up and just leave. Maybe he did.
My stomach is aching and growling now. I haven’t had anything to eat since the dinner I made last night for Bob that he didn’t bother showing up to eat. According to my phone that was thankfully in my bag, it’s almost noon.
I’ve thought about making a call to the police to have Conrad arrested, or calling Bob to ask him to come get me, but I don’t even know the name of the hotel or what room we’re in.
So, I guess I’ll risk leaving the bathroom to see if the coast is clear or if Conrad is more stubborn than I am.
I did finally put my clothes on, a T-shirt and jean shorts, after I dried my hair and put it up in a ponytail again, not because the asshole told me to but because I was getting cold.
And why does he even care if I act like a “needy little slut?”
He doesn’t know me, and it’s none of his business if I decide to screw every man I meet. For him to say he’ll never touch me is the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. For one, he already has, and two, all men have a weakness for naked women unless…maybe he’s married? I don’t remember seeing a ring on his finger or feeling one when I was trying to pry his hands off me. So, if I had to guess, the only reason he turned me down was because he works for my father.
If Conrad is nervous about me telling my father if we fool around, then he doesn’t have anything to worry about. I will never speak to that man again about anything. I’ll never have to, because I am not going home.
My father has his own selfish reasons for wanting me back in Myrtle Beach, I’m sure. It’s certainly not because he’s worried about me. I would bet anything that he’s just pissed about my recent charges and how it could affect him in some way.
If that’s true, then it only makes me want to get arrested a few more times, just to really try and screw him over. As fucked-up as it is, jail would be worth the revenge.
Heaving a sigh, I finally get up from my seat on the closed toilet, the same place I was sitting after throwing up my insides earlier, and go over to unlock the door and open it.
The smell of greasy food hits me first, making me hungry but also a little nauseous.
“You hungry?” Conrad calls out from his side of the suite where there’s a small table and two chairs in front of the window. The curtains have been pulled back, letting in the bright warm sun that makes his hair glow like a halo. He’s no angel, though. He’s a giant Viking who for whatever reason does my father’s bidding. In fact, even his calm demeanor luring me closer with food seems like a trap.
“Actually, I think I am hungry,” I reply. I walk over to join him at the table since there’s no point in trying to escape out the hotel door. Been there, done that. The chain is bolted again which means that by the time I get it undone, he’ll catch me again. No, I need to wait until he’s distracted, like in the bathroom, or when he’s relaxed and thinks he can trust me not to run.
“There’s another chef salad and some fries left.”
“Fries with a salad?” I ask as I lower myself into the empty chair across from him.
“Why not? They’re not much different from a breadstick or croutons with a salad.”
“If you say so,” I mutter.
I eat the salad and dip a few fries in ketchup silently with Conrad watching me like a hawk. Is he waiting for me to run again?
“Want some soda to wash it down?” he eventually asks when I’ve almost finished the salad.
“Ah, sure,” I agree. I watch as he pops the tab on a Coke and then pours it over the ice in a glass. Again, I can’t help but think it’s a setup of some kind. He’s not drugging me I don’t think, unless he put something down in the ice. I take a sip, and there’s no bitterness. How fucked-up is it that I’ve tasted beverages that have been tampered with before? It’s insane to think about how low men will go for sex.
After I’ve finished my drink, I say, “So, now what?”
“What do you want to do?” Conrad leans back in his chair casually, like he doesn’t have a care in the world and wasn’t freaking out screaming at me a few hours ago or holding me back from trying to run out the door. I hate that he’s so big and sexy and intimidating.
“I-I don’t know,” I a
nswer, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s throwing me off-balance. I was expecting him to yell at me or something because I screwed up his plans, not ask what I want.
What do I want?
“I’m guessing you’re not going to take me back to Bob’s place,” I remark.
“Do you want to go back to Bob’s place?” he asks.
“Not really, no.”
“Okay, then.” He looks…smug when I admit that.
“What are you up to?” I ask.
“Nothing. Now I know that you’re not going to willingly walk out the door and get on a plane.”
“That’s right. I’m not.”
“I know.”
“So are we just going to stay in this hotel room forever?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I squint at him, trying to decipher what he’s not saying. “There’s no amount of reverse psychology that’s going to work on me.”
“Didn’t think it would.”
“So, what are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” I ask.
“For you to figure out what you want to do. You don’t want to go back to Bob’s, and I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to campus either.”
“I dropped out.”
He nods. “Well, then where are you going to live?”
“I-I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“You seem pretty shortsighted. Not much of a planner, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” I admit. “Plans usually go to shit eventually, so why make them?”
“I’m a planner,” Conrad says. “Down to most minutes of my day. I don’t like when my plans go to shit. It pisses me off and makes me feel out of control.”
“I noticed,” I remark, silently pleased that I ruined his careful planning. Did he really think he would just show up here and I would come home with him? How crazy is he? I’m just not sure what happens now.
“So I think we should do what you wanted,” Conrad says.
“You do, huh? And what do I want?”
“Me,” he answers, full of cockiness that somehow isn’t a turnoff.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to touch me,” I remind him.
“I changed my mind. Let’s have some fun. Go lay down on the bed.” He nods toward his pristinely made bed.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“You heard me.”
“You’re not…we’re not really going to…” I trail off.
“Don’t act all innocent now,” Conrad says. “Unless you’ve changed your mind now that you’re sober?”
Am I sober? I guess I am. It’s been hours since I drank what little was in the tiny bottle in the minibar. I don’t remember the last time I had sex without a buzz. Is that why this feels so awkward and like I’m not in control?
“Aren’t you worried about what my father will think if he finds out you fucked me?” I ask him.
“He won’t, will he? I’m not going to tell him. Are you?”
“No,” I reply.
“He’ll be pissed I couldn’t get you on the plane home, but he’ll get over it,” Conrad says as he pushes his chair back and stands up. He removes his leather vest and hangs it over the back of the now empty chair, then reaches behind him to pull his shirt off over his head, revealing the most gorgeous chest and abs I’ve ever seen. He’s perfect, a sculpted masterpiece come to life. And his perfection makes me suddenly self-conscious.
Undoing the buckle on his brown leather belt, he nods to the bed with his chin. “Get on the bed, but leave your clothes on. I want to be the one to take them off of you.”
I blink in shock at his deeper, more demanding tone. But then my body responds to his orders before my mind can even catch up. I’m crawling up on the mattress without a second thought, only that I want to do whatever this man asks. I’m usually the more aggressive person in the bedroom, using it as a way to escape from life. Bob made some of the decisions, but he also did what I wanted, when I wanted it like a good little puppy dog. Although, I’m starting to think I could get used to being told what to do by this man.
Laying my head on the pillow, I lift my arms above my head to try and look more confident than I feel at the moment and freeze when my fingers find something under the pillow.
I don’t have time to find out what it is because then all six foot plus of the sexy Viking is on top of me. Bracing his weight on one palm next to my head, his lips brush over my neck while his free hand slips underneath the hem of my shirt. His fingers are a light feathery touch on my flat stomach. And between his fingers and mouth, I melt, sinking under the weight of lust as the room begins to spin around me. He’s barely touched me and I’m so hot and wet it’s ridiculous. No man has ever had this effect on me. Maybe it’s because I’m sober, or because it’s impossible to get in my own head thanks to the wonderful things he’s doing to my body. I close my eyes to savor the explosion of sensations, especially when Conrad’s mouth lowers to my belly button, pressing a kiss on the delicate skin before the tip of his tongue pokes me there. It’s the perfect imitation of the naughty act we’re about to do together, making me squirm and gasp.
“Oh my god, yes!” I moan. “Lower, please go lower!”
I lower my hands, intending to run them through his blond locks, but Conrad grabs them to stop me, pinning both on either side of my hips.
Thankfully, though, his mouth does as I asked. The next place I feel his lips and scruffy face is on my right inner thigh, just below where my denim shorts end. I need my shorts and panties off and his mouth on my pussy soon or I think I may combust.
The mattress dips as Conrad’s weight shifts, and I assume he’s sliding lower down my body, but then I feel something cool wrap around my thigh before I hear the clang of a belt and then a soft click.
I sit up to look down, finding a piece of leather twice the width of a belt around my thigh. “What is…what are you doing?” I ask as my breaths keep coming in pants.
“Shh. Lie back and let me work,” he says before placing his lips on the inside of my left thigh and running his tongue over the skin before nipping at it with his teeth.
“Oh god!” I groan as I fall back, the thigh belt thing forgotten for the moment as my pussy clenches around emptiness, so wet and ready for more.
Finally, the top button on my shorts is undone.
Conrad grabs my right wrist and guides it to my stomach. “I want to watch you get yourself off so I can lick it all up.”
“God, yes!” I agree as I press my fingers down into my panties to find my swollen clit, happy to give myself a little relief before he puts his mouth on me.
Conrad holds my left hand by my thigh that he’s licking with his tongue as I squeeze my eyes shut and climb higher and higher with each touch of my fingertips. I’m so turned on that I quickly fall right over the edge. I come with a ragged gasp that turns into a loud openmouthed moan as my thighs shake and my inner walls spasm.
When my entire body goes limp at the end of the spasms, Conrad says, “All finished?”
“Yes,” I pant.
He pulls my hand out of my panties, and then I feel his mouth on my damp fingers before he wraps something around my wrist, but I’m too spent to find out what it is.
But by the time I hear the same clinging noise and feel the cool material on my left wrist, I finally blink my eyes open to find out what it is. There are belt-like restraints now on both of my thighs and wrists, with tiny locks connecting them so that I can’t lift either hand more than a few inches.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” I exclaim as I try and pull my wrists free while glaring at the blond prick who is rolling off the bed and putting his shirt back on.
“You weren’t going to willingly walk out the door with me and get on a plane, so I came up with another plan.” He slips his leather vest back on and not so subtly adjusts the bulge in the front of his jeans. “The new plan is that I’m going to haul your ass down
to the rental car and drive it all the way back to South Carolina with you restrained in the back seat.”
“You can’t be serious!” I exclaim while squirming my way off the bed. When I get to my feet, I feel like a goddamn penguin since I can’t lift my arms. They’re latched to my thighs!
“Oh, I am very serious,” Conrad says. Coming over to me, his deft fingers button up my shorts again as he grins down at me triumphantly. I would punch him in the face if I could.
“You tricked me!”
“I did. And it worked very well. You really should be pickier about who you try to seduce.”
“Says the man with some crazy fucking kinks apparently!”
“I’m not even done yet.”
Going over to his backpack on the floor, he pulls out some other kind of contraption that looks like handcuffs connected by a bar.
Before I can even try and run, he pushes my shoulders so that I fall back down on the bed and then attaches the device to my ankles while I kick to no avail.
“Now you can’t run, only waddle away if you think about trying to escape,” he says when he pulls me back up to my feet.
I try to take a step unsuccessfully and trip, falling to my knees beside the bed. “I hate you,” I glance up and tell him as my entire body heats up in anger.
Ignoring me, Conrad wanders around the room, packing his phone charger and other items into his backpack. Then he comes out of the bathroom with my bag and his both on his shoulder. “We really should hit the road. It’s going to be a long five days.”
“Five days?” I say in disbelief. “You’re going to keep me like this for five days?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll feed you and let you go to the bathroom occasionally,” he replies. And without any further debate, he pulls me to my feet and throws me over his shoulder so that I’m hanging upside down, staring at the ground and unable to do a damn thing to stop him.
“Thank goodness the hotel does online checkouts,” he remarks. “Now we can head straight to the car.”
“Someone will see you kidnapping me and call the police!” I say as he does one last sweep around the room.
