When she began to reach for the sandwich, he stopped her. “Not yet. Patience.”
Dejectedly, she placed her hand on her lap. Would he again tease her with food and then not allow her to eat?
Dexter placed a mug on the table and poured from the decanter. It wasn’t the dark, rich coffee aroma she’d anticipated; instead, the liquid was lighter in color. The steam filled the air with a familiar scent. Before she could decipher the flavor, Dexter spoke.
“Ginger tea. It should help your muscles.”
“Thank you.”
He took the other seat and scanned their meal.
“Tell me, bug. What do you want?”
Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips together and compiled. Her list was simple and yet comprehensive: her life back, freedom, outside, her family, sunlight, clothes, a shower…
The movement of the other chair caused her eyes to open. Dexter was no longer across the table, he was directly in front of her, his face in hers. She gasped.
“Don’t hesitate.” His harsher tone was more commanding. “When I ask you a question, don’t overthink. Answer immediately or lose the opportunity until I feel generous again.”
“To eat. I want to eat.” It was the obtainable goal. There were bigger wishes she wanted granted, but at this second, as her hands shook with hunger, food was paramount. She scanned the table. She also wanted the ginger tea.
It had never been her favorite flavor, yet she knew the Chinese believed it to have healing qualities. While her legs were better, the muscles were tight. “And drink, tea…please,” she added.
Slowly, his chest expanded and contracted and nostrils flared. It was obvious that he was thinking, contemplating. She just didn’t know what he’d decide.
How does one predict the moves of a madman?
“No more warnings,” he said. “Keep rule number one in mind.”
“You don’t repeat yourself,” she said, remembering his rule.
Her breathing stalled as he tugged the top of the blanket, lowering it from up around her neck to below her collarbone and lower still. Natalie’s eyes closed. She wanted to stop him, to scream or reach up and scratch his hand, but she knew that none of that was within her power. When she opened her eyes, in her current seated position with Dexter standing, she couldn’t help but notice his arousal. As his hand lingered, her skin chilled.
His gaze swept from her chest to her face and back again. The blanket was now as low as the swell of her breasts. His warm finger traced her skin, dipping between her round globes along the hem of the blanket. She was no more exposed than she would be in a scooped blouse, yet it felt as if she were once again naked.
Dexter lifted her chin until their gazes met. “What will you do to earn your meal?”
Everything within her froze. Her blood forgot to flow.
“Please, Dexter.” She purposely used his name, hoping for the effect from before. “I know that isn’t an answer to your question but I don’t know what I can do.” It was a truthful answer. She didn’t want to offer more than he’d accept, nor did she want to offer less and lose her second chance at a meal.
Again, he traced the scoop of the blanket. “Lower it,” he said. “Keep your breasts exposed for me, and then you may choose one thing from the table.”
She scanned the feast. Sandwiches and salad weren’t by definition a feast, but to her they were. What difference would it make if she removed the blanket? He’d seen her totally nude. She took a breath. With trembling fingers, she reached for the edge of the blanket.
Her eyes focused on the plate. She didn’t want one thing. She wanted it all. “One?”
“Rule number one.”
Natalie nodded. He wouldn’t repeat himself. He’d said one thing.
She wondered if she removed the entire blanket, could she earn more than one item? With a ragged breath, she opened the blanket, leaving it draped over her shoulders with her chest exposed. The cool air made her nipples harden.
A deep murmur resonated from Dexter’s throat. Pushing the material over her shoulders, he left the rest bunched around her waist. “Now touch them.”
Touch them?
In his tone, she heard his meaning. Dexter didn’t want her to just touch them; he wanted her to touch them as she would alone in her darkened bedroom.
Again, she lifted her hands.
His eyes stayed glued to her movement as she kneaded both breasts, pushing them up and twisting her hard nipples until her breasts grew heavy and engorged. As she caressed and teased, it was impossible not to notice that his erection grew, straining against the zipper of his jeans.
How long did he expect this to go on?
Her skin warmed under her own touch and lips parted as she startled herself with a small, unexpected whimper. Was her body’s response from her own ministrations or from the lustful gleam in his blue-green eyes? While his erection scared her, there was more, something new and erotic in what they were doing. A strange tenseness formed between her legs, causing her inside muscles to clench.
Surely, she wasn’t turned on by this man.
Finally, he spoke, his voice weighted with lust. “You’ve earned two things from the table.” He turned and went back to his chair.
Natalie let out the breath she’d been holding.
“What do you choose?” he asked.
“The tea and the sandwich.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink.
Dexter poured water for himself and nodded.
Taking that as his sign, Natalie hurriedly dove in.
Never had anything tasted as delicious. The bread was heavenly, grilled to the perfect crispness. Between the slices, the vegetables were sautéed and pasted together with rich white cheese. With each bite, the flavors exploded in her mouth. The blanket he’d moved off her shoulders, fully exposing her breasts, was forgotten. Chewing and swallowing monopolized her thoughts while the warmth of the mug gave her hands needed heat.
Dexter watched silently as she ate her sandwich and drank her ginger tea. He watched everything, not only her breasts, but also the way she sipped the tea, wiped her lips, even the way she chewed. His gaze was omnipresent. Once the sandwich was gone, he asked, “Wouldn’t you like some water? It wouldn’t be good for you to dehydrate. Besides, there was only one cup of tea.”
Natalie did want water, but she was beginning to understand that everything came with a price.
“May I have water?”
He poured the clear liquid into her glass.
When she didn’t reach for it, he grinned. “Good girl, bug. I was right about you. You’re a quick learner. Are you ready to learn what you must do to earn that water?”
Though dread flooded her veins, the food gave her strength. “Yes.”
“This time, your job is simple. It’s not your body, although you’ll soon offer me more than a view of your tits.”
Offer? Did that mean he wouldn’t take?
Before she could give it much thought, he told her what he wanted. “Your mind.”
Chapter Eleven
It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.
~ Sally Kempton