I glanced over, my eyes going wide as a picture of the motel we’d been at flashed on the screen along with the headline “Couple found dead in small-town motel.”
Something didn’t sit right. We were far away in another state. Why would we see that report where we were? Then it hit me. It wasn’t a local news station—it was national.
But why would that make national news? Murders happened all the time around the country.
“Fingerprints were found at the grisly crime scene of the small motel just inside the Tennessee border, identifying twenty-eight-year-old Paisley Warren, a laboratory technician from the Hamilton County Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Cincinnati, Ohio.”
Oh… Shit! A picture of me, next to the building I spent five days a week in, filled the screen as the newscaster’s voice continued.
“The same building in which she was thought to have perished in the day before when an unknown explosion destroyed the building. The cause of the explosion is under investigation, but police are not ruling out foul play and are listing Warren as a person of interest in both cases. If you have any information or see Paisley Warren, please contact your local police department.”
I stared at the screen in complete and total horror.
Kidnapped.
Hostage.
And I was the number one suspect for the crimes my captor committed.
“There are others after you now. Not just the police,” he said next to me, then he sighed. “This’s going to make things harder.”
I turned to him. “Harder?” My arm swung back then forward, connecting with his chest. “I hate you! I hate you!” I pounded my fists against him. “They think I killed them! Why didn’t you just kill me? Bastard!"
A few hits was all I got in before he took hold of my wrists, stopping me. "Do you want to die?"
I struggled against his grip, wanting to bash his skull in and get away. "No, but if I'm going to die, I'd rather it be by anyone but you! I was actually happy that night. I thought you were something real, but you’re just a lunatic murderer!”
His lip curled up into a snarl. He pulled my arm high while his other hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me to him. When his lips pressed against mine, tongue slipping across, forcing it deeper, I thought I could hold my own. I thought I’d be disgusted.
I was wrong.
Just like that night that seemed like a lifetime ago versus less than forty-eight hours, I melted into him. All the hatred for him disappeared as our bodies mashed together. A moan crawled its way out of me, and as soon as the vibration hit him, he stopped.
His breath was harsh when he stepped back. Our eyes met, and the force of his glare made me flinch. He stepped forward and pushed against my chest, sending me falling onto the bed.
He stood over me, and the blood that pumped furiously through my veins fell from my face. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the ground, before crawling onto the bed.
I drew in a shaky breath, pushing back as he forced my legs open and caged me against the bed with his arms. My eyes were wide as I reached up and placed my palms on his chest.
"I've been pretty fucking nice to you, Paisley, wouldn't you agree?"
"Y-Yes," I managed to stutter out between my shaking lips.
He reached between us, his hand skimming across my stomach until he reached my panties. Grabbing them and twisting, he pulled them until they tore away from me.
"Then I'll make you hate me even more. You’re nothing but a fucking beader. I'm going to use you, fuck you, and there’s nothing you can do about it."
I whimpered, my body shaking as he shifted his weight, popping open his jeans. My body tensed and I tried to crawl back, but he held my hip down on the mattress with the force of his weight.
The tip pressed against me, bare, but I didn’t care about a condom any longer. I was going to die, so what did it matter?
He grunted when he thrust his hips forward, pressing his cock into me.
I gasped, my mind going blank, moaning when he pulled out and pushed all the way back in. Everything that happened evaporated, except my body remembering his.
And he felt even better bare. Skin-to-skin delicious friction.
Every logical thought said to be appalled and frightened. To scream and curse at him. To tell him no and push against him. Something, anything, that indicated I didn’t want what he was doing.
Instead, my heels pressed into the mattress as my hips rocked up to meet his.
I was scared. I was turned on. Every emotion in me was on the fritz to the point I didn’t know what to feel. Confusion laced with desire and an edge of fear topped off with a gorgeous body slamming a big cock into me.