He looks at me as if I’m a piece of furniture.
I’m nothing to him.
Cold tears run down my face. “Why?”
“Because it makes me feel alive.”
My chest freezes as I stare right into Tommy’s blank eyes. I thought I was dealing with a man who could be manipulated, but he tortures and kills people for a living. I never knew. No, I had no fucking clue.
What makes you think he gives a flying fuck about you?
My lips tremble with an unspoken plea, and I search Tommy’s vacant face, hoping to see a scrap of human emotion somewhere in there.
“I meant, why me?”
There’s no sound except for the soap hissing on the water and the slow drip of the faucet.
“It’s nothing personal.” Then a smile suddenly appears. “I can’t deny that having you all to myself was tempting.”
A shiver runs up my thigh when the last word falls from his lips. Having you all to myself. I have to believe he’s capable of feeling something for me, because otherwise I’m fucked.
The soap lathers in the sponge, and I raise it to my arms, water dripping over my skin. I keep my head down and try to pretend that my heart isn’t hammering against my chest like a jackhammer. His greedy eyes follow my hands soaping my body, but he makes no movement to touch me. Then I sweep my hair to the side and give him a pointed look.
“Could you help me?”
A slick smile spreads over his face as he edges closer and takes the soapy loofah from my hands. He rolls up his sleeve and slowly massages my back.
Victory.
“I know what you’re doing, you know.”
“Doing what?”
Tommy’s laughter burns my cheeks. The sponge moves lower on my back and his fingertips touch my jaw. I follow his fingers, looking up Tommy’s rolled sleeves to his face.
“I meant it when I said you were beautiful.”
Silence follows his echoed words. What a strange thing to say to me. Even stranger is the response I feel in my chest, all that confusing warmth. What does he want from me?
“I know.”
“Do you really think that getting me to fuck you will change anything?”
It might.
My stomach sinks, but my voice is steady. “Maybe I don’t want to die without getting laid first.”
A grin lights up his face. “When was the last time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a year.”
Shock momentarily ripples across his face like an electric current, and he pauses his hand. Then the sneer returns to his face. “Liar.”
“It’s the truth.” I lean forward and hug my knees, suddenly disgusted with myself. All the heart in my plan is gone. It only took him five seconds to see right through me.
It’s hopeless.
“I don’t believe it,” he says, resuming the sponging of my back.
My fists clench in the bath. “With you Mafia assholes in the club every week, no guy wanted to be anywhere near me.”
He pauses again and the loofah slips from his fingers. I feel the spread of his palm against my wet back like an electrical wire. His hungry gaze freezes me into place.
“They weren’t real men.”
I know what he wants to fucking say. I’m a real man. I would have treated you right.
No, you wouldn’t, you fucking jerk. You would have used me just like the rest of them.
It pisses me off.
I reach and pull the plug to the bath, shivering as the water spirals down and descends over my knees. Tommy still sits there, looking at me as if I’m a meal. I know I’m supposed to touch him, to make him feel wanted, but I just can’t stomach it.
Your life depends on it, moron.
My hair drips as I stand up, and I wring it dry. Tommy holds out a towel for me, but I only briefly pat myself down before climbing out. He eyes my gleaming legs as I step out of the bath. I make a beeline straight for him.
The grin on his face falters somewhat. “You’re getting water all over the floor.”
I walk closer to him until my nipples brush his t-shirt, and then I wrap my arms around his solid waist. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Are you a real man, Tommy? Do you want to show me what it’d be like to be with one? I’ll admit it, I’m curious.”
I don’t think his eyes could get any hotter, and then I move my hands down his abdomen, over his ass, which makes him smile, and then my hand anchors over his iron-stiff cock. It’s rigid in his pants. Suddenly he grabs my throat and slams me into the wall, hard enough to make stars burst in my vision.
“Oh no you don’t.” He seethes in my face. “I’m in control, not you.”
I guess I hit a nerve.
The hand around my throat tightens as his mouth crushes against mine. Breath leaves my chest as electricity spreads over my skin, surprising me. I don’t want him. No, that’s a lie. I’ve wanted him since I met him, rebelled against my attraction to him to save my own skin. Now I have to use it to save myself. The sane part of me screams to shove him away. He’s a threat, but I have to make him believe me, and that means I have to see the man behind the monster.
It isn’t hard to let go and pretend I’m somewhere else. Maybe I’m at his house after a nice date with him. There was a time when I might’ve wanted to walk down the street, holding his hand. I would’ve seen how much he desired me, and been flattered by it. My cheeks would flush when he cupped my face to kiss me goodbye after he dropped me back at my house. His face looks different now. He doesn’t look like my captor; he could be anyone. I touch his furrowed brows, which slowly lighten as I lean into him and seal my lips against his. The hand around my throat loosens.
“I wanted you, too,” I whisper against his lips.
Suddenly a real smile spreads over Tommy’s face, and it temporarily robs me of breath. That cruel darkness that makes him look like a crazed killer disappears. His eyes flicker as he holds me close, breathing into my lips.
“I knew it.”
My hands move to explore Tommy’s lean abdomen, reaching under his t-shirt to feel the hard bumps of his abs. God, he has a hot body. All this time he was hiding it under suits and I had no idea. I lift his shirt and we break apart, Tommy’s lips red as he pulls it off. The sight of his broad chest makes my mouth water. I’m aching to run my hands over him, and that gorgeous dent right under his Adam’s apple begs to be kissed.
He wraps a thick arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. Both of us sigh at the contact of our bodies. Jesus, he’s so warm. My breasts flatten against his body and then I reach down to move my palm over the bump in his jeans. His lips travel down my neck, kissing my bare skin. His movements become more frenzied, and I dig my fingers into his hair. My tongue pushes through his lips to taste him, and a sudden thrill shoots up my thighs. He sucks on my bottom lip before pulling away, and we spend another moment staring at each other with barely restrained lust.
“If I knew how good you looked without clothes, I would have done this a long time ago.”
Tommy smiles at me and strokes my cheek with his thumb.
Good, charm him. Flatter him.
Suddenly the moment ends. His face twists with another one of his cruel grins, and he no longer looks like the beautiful, innocent man I’ve never seen before. Tommy is back.
“You fucking bitch.” He whispers as he palms my tits.
I gasp as the contact makes my pussy clench hard.
“Sex is not supposed to be a fucking reward for you.”
My eyes flash. “So you were going to fuck me against my will?”
The smile on his face makes my stomach flutter. “I was going to make you beg for me. And you will.”
I doubt it, considering I’m faking everything right now.
“Where’s the fight in you? Why are you being so—” Then he stops, smiling suddenly as if something just occurred to him. “Come with me.”
No, we’re not supposed to leave.
“But—don’t y
ou want to—”
“Come.”
Tommy pulls his shirt back on and I follow him downstairs, completely naked. Thoroughly disheartened, I descend the stairs. It’s fucking cold down there, and there are splinters on the cheap wooden stairs. They creak loudly as we descend them.
“You must be pretty hungry.”
I am, actually. The lack of outside light doesn’t let me know what time it is, but I know that it has been long enough to make my insides gnaw with hunger. He points to the chair.
“Sit.”
I take a seat as Tommy moves past me, opening the door to the fridge. The light spills onto the kitchen tiles and I lick my lips when he removes a thick red steak. Bewildered, I watch as he sets it on the kitchen counter and gets a pan from underneath the stove, heating it with olive oil immediately.
“What are you doing?”
He glances over and gives me a smile. “What’s it look like?” He sprinkles a generous amount of salt on the steak, grinds pepper over it, and then seasons the other side.
What is this, some kind of trick?
My eyes glance to the door. His back is turned toward me. It’s less than twenty-five meters. My thighs tense under the table as I imagine myself sprinting out the door.
“Don’t bother.”
I jump in my seat when I hear the sudden hiss of the steak being dropped on the hot pan. The ambrosial smell of cooking meat wafts across my nose as I watch the steak hiss and pop in the pan. My tongue sweeps over my lips, and after a few minutes, I watch him turn the steak over with a pair of tongs. Dripping, fatty, delicious steak. The smell saturates the air and my stomach growls. He takes the steak off the pan and pours red wine over the pan to deglaze it, and then adds a knob of butter and then pours the sauce over the steak. The dark-red sauce pools around the steak, and then he turns off the burners. He takes the plate in both hands and approaches the table with a smile I don’t trust. He sets the steak across the table from me.
“Thanks,” I say bracingly, reaching for it.
He takes my hand before I grab the plate. “Not so fast, sweetie.”
God, that fucking name. It still pisses me off. My stomach roils when he smoothes his thumb over my hand.
What the hell has he planned?
“If you want to eat, you’re going to have to work for it.”
“Work for it?”
Tommy lets my hand go and moves the wooden chair so that he sits in front of me, a wicked grin on his face. “You’ll have to suck my cock.”
“What?”
My mouth gapes open stupidly as he lets his arm rest on the table, checking his watch.
“And you’ll have to make me come in under three minutes, or you won’t get to eat.”
“What the fuck is the matter with you?”
His eyes glimmer with mischief. “If you don’t do as I say, you won’t eat. It’s that simple.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “You won’t let me starve to death.”
Tommy leans forward, his brown hair brushing his eyes. “It’s just a blowjob, hon. You might even like it.”
“Fuck you!”
The kitchen echoes with his laughter. “What’s the matter? You were all over me upstairs,” he says in a low, gritty voice. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
I curl my lips under my teeth. “I’m not going to suck your cock to eat food! I’m not your whore!”
Suddenly he’s out of the chair and his hands wrap around my throat like hot brands. My heart squeezes painfully when he stands between my legs, the fabric of his jeans bunched where his cock stiffens.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re mine. I get to do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.” The fucking bastard smiles at me. “I’m giving you a choice. All you have to do is get me off in under three minutes, and you’ll have food.”
As far as I’m concerned, that’s not much of a fucking choice. I won’t be bullied into giving him a blowjob. Doing whatever it takes to build rapport is one thing, but this is something else entirely.
He wants to humiliate me. Break me down.
I won’t let him.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Suit yourself.”
His hot hands fly from my neck and then he sits down at the table across from me, pulling the steak closer. Tommy picks up the knife and fork beside the plate and cuts into the steak.
“What are you doing?”
He ignores me as he cuts a juicy piece and pops it into his mouth. His eyes close with rapturous delight as his mouth chews the steak.
Fucking bastard is going to eat it in front of me.
Another charred piece of meat gets stabbed by Tommy’s fork, which then swirls the piece of meat in the dark-red sauce. My stomach groans as steam rises from the cut steak, the aroma torture on my caved-in stomach walls.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He pauses between chewing to smile, but he doesn’t say anything more. When he eats the last bite from the plate, he stands up and drops it into the sink. I would have licked the sauce from the plate. The hiss of water from the faucet is almost painful to hear.
“Can I have a drink of water?”
Tommy takes a glass and fills a third of it with water. “Here.”
Is this a fucking joke?
The glass is cold in my hands, and I drain it in a small swallow. “I need more. Please.”
“That’s all you get for now.”
He takes the glass from me and sets it on the counter. Fire courses through my veins as he places his hand on my shoulder. I shrug his hand off and walk in the direction of the closet.
* * *
Another night, or day, locked up in that wooden basement with every sensation ripped from my body. It does strange things to my mind. I wonder if the FBI is looking for me, or whether they’ve already written me off as a lost cause. My parents will be out of their minds with worry.
The only thing reminding me that I’m still alive is my heartbeat and the gnawing pain in my stomach. It’s terrible. I’m horribly weakened by it. I’ve already decided that I’ll give in to Tommy. I’ll get on my knees and put my head between his legs, even though it disgusts me. I just never thought I would be one of those girls, who sucks cock in exchange for something. It makes me sick to my stomach, even though I’m only doing it because I’ve no choice, because the alternative is to starve.
Let him think he’s won. Don’t give up.
The little voice inside fills me with courage I never knew I had. Sure, I stood up to Vincent plenty of times and told the rest of them to fuck off, but I never knew I could survive something like this. Someone like him. He’ll think I’ve lost, but I’ll be the one who wins this battle. I’m choosing to do it for my own reasons.
A dark male voice suddenly hisses in my ear: Sure you are, sweetheart. I’ll let you think that.
He’s right. What a fucking joke.
My throat is parched, the thirst for once overpowering the hollow pain in my stomach.
TOMMY! TOMMY!
What if I die of dehydration? My lips try to form his name over and over again. The air tears my dry throat, but I don’t care.
HELP ME!
Someone must be able to hear me beyond these walls.
Pain pierces my eyeballs as white explodes overhead. I imagine leather shoes clipping on the wooden floorboards so that I don’t jump when his hands lift the headphones and blindfold from my head. I shut my eyes as every sensation returns to my body. It’s so loud and terrifying that I wince at the sound of the metal chains clinking together. They fall from my limbs.
“There’s no point,” he says as he bends closer to me. “There’s no one around for miles. No one can hear you.”
“Water,” I hear my voice croak. “Please.”
His hand curls around mine and tugs me to my feet. I’m so weak with hunger that it hurts to stand up. The empty, stabbing pain worsens when I’m standing upright.
Tommy wears a black, slim suit that rem
inds me of the other Mafia bastards I hate. His face is impassive as he watches me struggle to my feet.
“I’ll get you water upstairs. C’mon.”
The promise of water is enough to make me hurry up the steps, drained of energy as I am. Once again the cold makes me wrap my arms around myself. I shiver violently when we enter the chilly kitchen. My toes flex on the linoleum, and I spot a men’s white t-shirt on the table. Something smells wonderful from a small pot sitting on the stove.
Tommy heads for the sink and gets a large glass of water, filling it to the top. I take it from him and gulp it down. He looks at me with a cocked head, eyeing my body with unmistakable greed. As soon as I’m done, he takes the glass away from me and moves into my space. My heart thumps hard against my chest as he wraps an arm around my waist, the other hand gently tilting my head back to face him. My breasts flatten against the coarse fabric of his suit as he pulls me close.
“Are you hungry?”
I somehow resist the urge to spit in his face. “Yes.”
“Good. I am, too.”
He fists his hand in my hair and suddenly his soft lips breathe against mine. They’re like liquid fire, spreading warmth to every surface of my body. They make me feel as if I’ve just stepped into a sauna. His hand blazes down my body, groping. I gasp at every pinch of his fingers and then he turns slightly so that his cock digs into my thigh. The cock that I’m about to take into my mouth.
I can just imagine my bright-red face when Tommy pulls away with a knowing grin.
“Are you ready to begin?”
I nod, avoiding his eyes. I’ll probably never be able to look him in the eyes after this.
Tommy sits down in one of the chairs, the pot of stew or whatever it is so tantalizingly close. His erection strains against his slacks. I kneel down to the floor, my knees hitting the hard surface. I bend forward as Tommy’s encouraging smile becomes a leer.
“I’ll start the time when your lips are wrapped around my cock.”
Oh, how generous of you.
Seething, I grab his belt buckle and wind the leather belt out of the loops. I try to do it slowly, and I try to maintain eye contact with him as I unbutton his pants. I only want to do this once, and I have just three minutes.
His Witness Page 10