What’s wrong with you? The voice in my head screamed. Katie Jones, you get yourself out of there, you don’t know what’s coming next! You’re a sex slave, don’t you get it? You’re going to be used until you’re senseless, those two men are going to do things to you that you’ve never even dreamed of.
But the thing is that I kind of want it. Because I love my life as an art student sure, but lately, things have been stuck. The ideas in my head won’t come out, they’re locked in there and I just sit in my studio uselessly, paintbrush in hand. Hours would go by, my frustration palpable, tears in my eyes. But I haven’t been able to paint for weeks now, instead taking off my smock and trudging to the coffee shop, putting in another mindless shift.
So this was a shake-up for sure. I was in a strange place, with strange men, who had unknown plans for me. But maybe the shock to my system would push me past my boundaries, past whatever was holding me back. Maybe I’d be able to break free from my invisible restraints even as the men chained and cuffed me using metal ones.
Humming a little, I stepped out of the stall. The air was moistly wet, sensuously hot, and I smiled to myself in the mirror. Was that really me? Katie Jones, curvy girl who’s never had a guy before? Something was different, even if it was the same big brown eyes and curly hair staring back. There was a knowing look in my eye, a breathless sense of anticipation mixed with curious innocence. It was me, alright.
And while I was in the shower, clothes had magically appeared. I frowned for a moment. Had I been so caught up in my own thoughts that an intruder had come, and I hadn’t noticed? That was weird. I really was in La-La Land, someone had stepped into the bathroom for crying out loud, and then left unnoticed. But I shook my head resolutely. Everything about this was crazy, and I just had to push forward and see what came next.
But the clothes laid out for me were curious because I half-expected the men to dress me up in nothing but lingerie and chains, my wrists shackled once more, maybe another gag in my mouth. So the outfit on the hanger was surprisingly normal and even modest, like a rich girl might wear when meeting her boyfriend’s parents.
I struggled into the cloth, pulling it over my curves, and gazed into my mirror, looking on with shock. Because the purple sheath dress was a perfect fit. The heavy lace fabric skimmed my curves, highlighting my assets without being too sexy. The neckline was a demure rectangle, the fabric coming to my knees and I stepped hesitatingly into matching purple heels. In fact, there was even a small purse to the side, completing the ensemble without being too matchy-matchy. What was the meaning of this? I’d just been taken as a sex slave, but right now, I looked more like a duchess going to afternoon tea.
Slowly pushing open the bathroom door, I stepped back into Mason’s massive office. Both men were waiting for me, one dark and one light. Their heads snapped around immediately, taking in my curvy form.
“Wow,” grunted the handsome Viking. Right, that was Derek, Mason’s friend. “Wow.”
But my original captor didn’t even say anything, eyes running over and up my form, taking in every inch.
“Come on,” he said abruptly, standing up. “It’s time to meet the press.”
Meet the press? What in the world? This was getting more and more bizarre and my sense of self-preservation kicked in once more.
“No,” I said, my voice low and firm. “You have to tell me what’s going on first. No way I’m meeting anyone until you tell me what’s going on.”
Mason fixed me with a dark look promising punishment of the worst kind, but Derek cut in.
“Baby girl,” he drawled. “I thought we already told you. You’re Mason’s fiancee, isn’t that clear? You’re getting married and oh, by the way, you’re pregnant already.”
The eyebrows flew off my face.
“Are you joking?” I gasped. “I’m not pregnant! I just met you guys today! And besides, even if all of that was okay, which it’s not,” I said quickly. “I don’t accept it. I don’t accept that there’s more to this farce. You can’t keep me as a sex slave, I’m gonna scream my head off the minute I get out of here.”
The alphas exchanged looks. But instead of looking perturbed or worried, they looked amused.
“Sex slave?” drawled Mason. “Where’d you come up with that? That’s a little far.”
I gawped at him.
“Are you joking? Of course I’m a sex slave! You kidnapped me! He kidnapped me!” I sputtered accusingly at Derek. “I was working a shift at the coffee shop and suddenly I’m here, tied up with both of you going at me!”