Stranded with Her Bullies

She gripped the two keys within her grip tightly.

They were dressed in pants and crisp white shirts. Businessmen. She’d never followed their progress after school, but Bethany had informed her all three were successful businessmen. Popular. Wealthy.

As Daphne looked at each of them, fear traveled up her spine. “Y-y-you’re not supposed to be here.” She hadn’t stuttered in years, and now look at her. This was her home. Her place of business. All of them should have been gone, for their own safety, and for hers. “You need to leave.”

She turned on her heel, intent on calling the police.

“Actually, darling, I think we’re going to stay,” Eric said.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him tip his glass toward her. “This isn’t funny. What’s going on right now isn’t a game.”

“I didn’t think it was, and I’m not playing a game. At least not yet,” he said.

“I think we’re scaring her,” Dean said. He looked the most relaxed of the three, but she knew without a doubt he was just as deadly.

“This is my house. You all need to leave. You should have signed out hours ago.” She wouldn’t show them fear or weakness. They preyed upon it. Staring at them now, she couldn’t even begin to wonder why they were even here.

“We can’t go anywhere. The message said to stay at home, and well, we’re so far away from home.” This came from Micah.

She shook her head. “This isn’t funny.” Turning on her heels, she left the room, keeping the other two keys and locking the doors so they would have no choice but to share a room.

Assholes. If they thought they could outsmart her, they were wrong.

****

Eric watched Daphne leave, the fine curves of her ass calling to him with every single step she took. Was it such a bad thing he wanted to drag her back to this very bed and fuck her senseless? Damn it, he’d stopped thinking about her years ago. The only memory he had was fleeting, but even still, the girl he’d bullied had visited a few times over the past twelve years since they’d been parted.

“Well, that went well,” Micah said.

“It didn’t, and you fucking know it. She’s probably gone to call the cops.” Dean swallowed down his whiskey while glaring at the door. The grip he had on the glass was close to shattering it.

“She can phone the cops all she wants. They won’t come.” He wasn’t interested in the alcohol. To win Daphne over, he was going to have to keep a clear head.

Dean took a deep breath. “You threaten them too?”

“We’ve got a lot of friends in high places. We all knew Daphne wasn’t going to fall into our hands willingly. We’re going to have to wait for her to do that.” Personally, he loved the challenge.

It was why he and his two best friends were such good partners. Since they were kids, they did everything together. He was the more business-minded one, Micah was the approachable one, and Dean, well, he was the one everyone feared.

The irony was Dean had the sanest parents of them all, a really good upbringing, but that didn’t seem to rub off on him. The guy was full of kink.

Eric smiled as he glanced around the room. “She took the keys,” he said.

“Locked the other doors.” Micah moved toward the door. “Now that she knows we’re here, I don’t see a point in keeping her waiting.”

He watched his friend go while Dean still seemed to be brooding. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“She’s prettier than I remember.”

Eric snorted. “And you think that’s a bad thing?”

“I didn’t say that. I wasn’t expecting her to get prettier.”

Looking at his friend, he sighed. Since their drunken admission about their true feelings for the girl they often bullied in high school, it would seem Dean had it the worst and had even treated her the worst. He was the one to steal her clothing and then somehow draw most of their class into the showers to watch her humiliation, trying to hide behind the smallest towel. He’d stuffed her locker with condoms and so much more, and that was all in junior year of high school. Everything else, yeah, Dean was mean all right, but Daphne never backed down. Never caved.

She was a fighter.

From what he’d seen, Daphne wasn’t just pretty, but fucking stunning. She’d grown her hair out, and it fell down to her waist in waves. It was like it had a life of its own, a fullness. She had curves, large tits, a small waist, and flaring hips that went into juicy thighs. In the few days he’d been at her bed-and-breakfast, he’d found himself watching her.

She certainly made him wish he was a pair of jeans. A snug fit against her body, so very ripe and ready for the taking.