Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

She hid her reaction, but a whirlwind of emotions swept through her. “Blindfold me. Don’t drug me.”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes when she didn’t get her way.

“I’ve seen what you can do. You’ll run the second you get a chance. You’ll grab the steering wheel and drive us off a cliff. And I don’t make compromises. Like I said, my word is law.”

She pulled her knees to her chest.

“I’m growing impatient.” I stood up and pocketed the syringe. “If you want to stay here, that’s fine. But this offer won’t come again. If you choose to stay here, you’ll remain here for a long time.”

Her eyes shifted frantically back and forth, unsure what to choose. Either decision brought her pain. But what would bring her the least amount?

I turned to the door because I didn’t have time for this. If she wanted to be stupid, she could be stupid.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

I stopped by the door and slowly turned around.

“You give me your word you won’t touch me when I’m...drugged?”

Now I understood her darkest fear. She hated the lack of control. She hated the inability to participate in her fate. Most women would prefer the drug. They were tortured and raped without having to experience it. They just had to suffer through the soreness the following day. But that’s not what she wanted. “Yes.”

She swallowed my words before she scooted to the edge of the bed and pulled her hair aside. “If you lie to me, I’ll make you regret it.” She exposed her neck, submitting to me.

I got harder at the thought of overpowering her. She was a rival opponent, a woman who couldn’t be easily tamed. She wasn’t like the others that I met. She didn’t bow to my feet and behave as an obedient dog. She had a backbone, and she fought mercilessly. The fact she made a sincere threat when she had no way to execute it was oddly charming.

I sat beside her on the bed and placed my hand around her neck, feeling her powerful pulse underneath my fingertips. A thrill shot through my spine at touching her. She allowed me to come close. She allowed me to do something to her. Now all I could think about was fucking her hard on this very bed.

But I wouldn’t break my word.

I inserted the syringe and gave her the drug.

Her eyes immediately fluttered then drooped. She reached for the mattress and slowly laid herself down, unable to fight the spell that pulled her under. She battled to keep her eyes closed, but she quickly lost that war. Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep.

A minute passed while I stared at her. I watched her chest rise and fall slowly. Her lips parted slightly as she fell into a deep sleep. She looked helpless when she was unconscious. The fiery woman I just met was no longer present.

I scooped her into my arms and carried her out.

“What are you doing?” Cane asked.

She was light in my arms, soft like a feather. Her arms hung limply by her sides as she remained asleep. “She’s coming with me.”

“What?” Cane demanded. “Why?”

“Because I’m the only one who can break her. You just saw what happened. One of our guys is dead, two are injured, and you’re still bleeding.”

“I still want my turn with her.”

“Not today, Cane.”

“Well, I will get my chance. Even if it’s in your bed.”

If I weren’t holding someone in my arms, I’d punch him in the face. “Keep talking to me like that, and you’ll never get your chance.”

Chapter Sixteen

Pearl

When I woke up, I was in a new place. Sunlight filtered through the open window, and the sound of chirping birds filled my ears. Several of them spoke to each other, communicating in their own language that I would never understand.

The light warmed my skin, making me forget the coldness of winter. It pounded past my eyelids, beckoning me to wake up even though I was still exhausted.

My eyes finally opened, and I took a look around.

The shutters of the window were pushed out, welcoming the breeze into the bedroom. Beige curtains were pinned back, contrasting against the brown painted walls. The top of the window curved like an oval, making me think of an ancient arch.

I studied the rest of the room. A brown circular couch curved around a circular table. The furniture was white and accented with gold pillows. A TV hung on the wall with a cobblestone fireplace underneath. A white vanity sat against the wall with brushes and antique containers of makeup. The room was large enough to be a house. The door in the corner must’ve led to a private bathroom.

It was the first time I’d woken up peacefully since I’d been kidnapped. It was the first time the delightful sound of birds acted as my alarm clock. I hadn’t seen an open window in months, and I didn’t really appreciate how good that felt until now.