Sinners & Gin

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Sinners & Gin Page 8

by Alta Hensley


  There was a knock on the bathroom door. “I’m heading downstairs,” Matthew said from the other side. “Remember my warning about Tennessee.”

  “I’ll be down there in a second,” I called, again wondering why I should make this so easy for them.

  I could lock myself in the bathroom.

  I could scream and try to claw their eyes out when they’d try to get me out.

  I could… hurt them. Hell… I had my father’s blood in me. Maybe I should do more than hurt them. I could kill them both and then make a run for it. They wouldn’t be expecting it from me.

  I actually laughed out loud as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Like I could ever do anything like that.

  Sighing, I ran a comb through my blow-dried hair one last time and decided I was starving enough to not put up any resistance at this time. I needed time to regroup anyway. I was never one to be rash in anything I did, and this wasn’t a time to start. Look what happened when I’d decided to act on impulse and go back to my room with a strange man.

  As I walked downstairs, I could overhear Tennessee and Matthew speaking.

  “You’ve lost your damn mind, but I won’t judge,” Tennessee said.

  “Yes, you will and are right now,” Matthew said.

  “Fine. Fuck yes, I’m judging,” Tennessee said, “but whatever. You better hope that little girl up there doesn’t drive me crazy. I agreed to babysit you. Not some spoiled little diva.”

  “She seems different than what you would expect,” Matthew said. “I expected a high maintenance little brat whom I would have to tame.”

  “And what about her daddy? Is this house going to become a blood bath like a scene from The Godfather? You don’t pay my ass enough to deal with that.”

  “No one knows where we are. Only you, the pilot who flew you here, and I know. I didn’t even tell my partners where I took Aria, but even if they knew, we know they will keep their mouths shut. Plus, Daddy Dearest doesn’t even know it was me who took her. I haven’t made contact yet and given my demands. But you both will be safe when I’m gone. I can assure that.”

  “And you don’t think little diva is going to try to escape?” Tennessee asked.

  “And go where? She’s smart enough not to make rash decisions and just go running off into the woods. But I have cameras and alarms set up if she tries. Actually, I have a feeling that our house guest isn’t going to give us that many problems. At least not problems that I can’t handle. We’ve already had some power struggles, and no doubt will have some more. But escaping? No. I’m not concerned as long as we stay on this mountain.”

  I hated that they were talking about me, so I decided to walk into the kitchen to make it stop. They both turned and looked me over. Each of them had a drink in their hand as they sat at the large granite island in the center of the room.

  “Well hot damn you clean up good,” Tennessee said. “That robe you wore did you no favors.”

  Ignoring the bold compliment from the very loud man with a thick southern accent, I remained quiet and in place hoping that there would be some guidance as to where to go or what to do.

  Matthew had showered and changed as well and looked far more casual in his own sweater and slacks. Even though he was no longer in an expensive suit, he still exuded wealth and power as he sat relaxed on a bar stool, without a care in the world, like he was on his first night of vacation.

  “Would you like a drink?” Matthew asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, please.” I looked at the tumbler in his hand. “Whatever you’re having.” It appeared Tennessee was drinking the same.

  Matthew quickly made me a drink and handed it to me. We both made eye contact but didn’t say a word to each other. Was he feeling the awkward tension as well? I didn’t know if I should toss the drink in his face or smile nicely and thank him. I wanted to do both.

  “I made roast, potatoes, carrots and peas,” Tennessee announced as he started bringing bowls to a four-man round table to the right of the kitchen island. The wooden table was simple and surrounded by windows. The little eating nook had a beautiful chandelier above it that screamed country charm. Each wooden chair was slightly different appearing as if they had each been found in a different barn somewhere. The table helped warm the kitchen which had expansive counter space of gray granite. The stove looked industrial and all the appliances were stainless steel. Money. Definitely money. And yet the cushions on the stools that surrounded the island looked homemade with the red checkered padding. Everything about the kitchen was a perfect blend of class and comfort. My father should hire Matthew’s designer.

  I took a sip of the drink and assumed it was some sort of whiskey, but I had no real idea. I wasn’t going to ask and show my hand that I really didn’t drink often. The last time I drank was champagne at my father’s kink party and that ended with me having something shoved up my ass as a man sucked and licked my body.

  My face heated from the memory, and I instantly grew more uncomfortable if that were even a possibility.

  “Come on now. Sit your asses down and eat. My mama will roll over in her grave if I allow her roast recipe to go to waste by getting all dried out or cold.”

  Matthew walked over to the table and pulled out a chair for me. My captor was a gentleman.

  I sat down and inhaled the smells. I was absolutely famished and could have eaten anything, but having a good old-fashioned meal was truly a treat for me. I didn’t have that often, and when I did, it most certainly didn’t look and smell like the meal before me.

  “You outdid yourself,” Matthew complimented as he started dishing the food onto his plate and then passing the dish to me.

  “Yes, I most certainly did,” Tennessee praised himself.

  I put the food on my plate, not caring if I appeared ladylike in my portion control. My father would most likely scowl if he were at the table as he always felt I should watch what I eat to remain thin and ‘delicate’. But he wasn’t at the table, and the roast was begging to be devoured.

  “So, when are we going back to Spiked Roses?” Tennessee asked as he began to eat. “You didn’t tell me that there would be absolutely no cell service up here. How in the hell am I supposed to check in? No phone. No computer. I feel like I have stepped back in time.”

  I ate in silence but was determined to take in every word. Spiked Roses? Maybe if I kept my head down and didn’t remind them that I was at the table, they would reveal things they didn’t want me to hear. I was really good at that growing up. I had overheard more things at dinners my father hosted than I’m sure anyone wanted me to hear. I was good at listening and observing. I could blend into the tablecloth like the best of spies.

  “I’m going to head back tomorrow for a quick check-in and to conduct some other business.” Matthew’s eyes darted toward me and then back toward his meal. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Kenneth is running just as tight of a ship as you do.”

  Tennessee huffed. “I doubt that.”

  “I’ll return a quickly as I can. I already told Aria that if she needs anything, to make me a list. I hope you will as well. Especially if there are any grocery items you need. I had the refrigerator stocked in the kitchen as well as one in the garage but there may be something special you want or need.”

  “Is that sexy pilot who flew me up here coming back to get you?” Tennessee asked. “That was something special I want and need.” Tennessee laughed at his own joke, but neither Matthew nor I did. Tough crowd for the boisterous man.

  “No. I’m going to use my own helicopter and fly myself.” Matthew glanced at me. “I have a landing pad here. I fly the helicopter to Aspen then charter a jet. Easier than that road.”

  “I saw,” I said around a mouth full of potato. My anger was growing with every chew. Were these assholes forgetting the fact that I was a victim? Kidnapped? They were sitting, eating, and discussing helicopters like nothing of any huge magnitude had happened.

  Who’s the girl at the dinner table?

&n
bsp; Oh, don’t mind her. She’s just a little souvenir I picked up while at a party hosted by a crime boss. No biggie.

  Rich, pretentious fuck.

  “Shame, shame,” Tennessee said as he cut into his meat. “That chopper man was so pretty.”

  I took another bite of my food, my sour mood not improving even with the growing full belly. Every single moment we sat around the table pretending as if this were completely normal, made my annoyance grow to an epic proportion.

  “And our guest? How long will she be here?” Tennessee asked.

  I slammed down my fork, glaring up at him. “I’m not a fucking guest. Didn’t this fucker fill you in? I’m here against my will? Just because we’re sitting around the family dinner table eating like everything is normal, doesn’t change that fact. I’m not a god damn guest!”

  Tennessee grabbed his white napkin and began waving it back and forth in front of him. “Simmer down now. Simmer down.”

  “Aria, eat and calm down,” Matthew said firmly. It sounded like it was almost a warning.

  “Or what?” I challenged as I glared at both of them. I grabbed my drink and downed it in one swallow, feeling it burn all the way down my throat. “This is sick you know that?” I pointed at my clothing. “I’m wearing clothes that you bought for me as you planned this kidnapping out to the finest detail. You got my fucking size right! What kind of stalker shit is that?” I pointed to Tennessee. “You brought him here for what? To guard me? To make sure I don’t run away? How long were you planning this? What exactly else are you planning, you sick fuck?”

  “Aria…” Oh yes, he was warning now. But fuck him.

  “Now, little missy—” Tennessee tried to cut in, but I wanted nothing to do with this man either.

  “Go fuck yourself and your southern twang.” I stood up and pushed the chair from the table. Slamming my hands on the surface made all the dishes rattle, and though I wasn’t one for dramatics, I was proud of the show I was putting on.

  Fuck them both.

  “You have until the count of three to sit down,” Matthew said calmly.

  I leaned toward him and stared directly into his eyes, inches from his face. “Or what?” I challenged. “You need to keep me alive if you plan to ransom me.”

  Matthew smiled as he took a sip of his drink, washing down the bite he’d just calmly taken. “Oh, trust me, princess. I won’t kill you in retaliation of poor behavior.” He took another bite of food and swallowed. “One.”

  I stole a look at Tennessee who had a look on his face that practically said I should do exactly what Matthew said and sit down before he reached the number three.

  “Two.”

  “You can’t do this to me. You both can’t keep me locked in this house in the middle of nowhere. Don’t you see that?” I looked at Tennessee with pleading eyes. “Surely, you can see how absolutely insane this is?”

  Tennessee pointed at my plate of food. “I advise you to sit down and eat my mama’s roast.”

  Reasoning with either one of these men was absolutely pointless.

  “Three,” Matthew said as he dabbed his mouth with his napkin and then stood up to face me.

  I should run. I should most definitely fucking run.

  But Matthew took hold of my arm and flung me over his shoulder before I could process what was being done to me. I couldn’t even release a squeal of protest before he was charging up the stairs with my body dangling like a rag doll over his broad shoulder. He took the stairs two at a time and everything passed me by so fast.

  “Put me down!” I screamed as I tried to wiggle myself off his body to no avail. Matthew only held me to him firmer as we quickly approached the landing at the top of the stairs.

  I pounded my fists into his lower back and his sides, and Matthew’s reaction was as if I were just an annoying gnat doing nothing but bugging him.

  The door to what I assumed was his room opened, and I was flung onto the mattress of his large king-size, four post bed. Matthew was slightly out of breath, but I was far worse. I expected to see rage in his eyes, but none was present. His eyes were dark but calm, even though his actions were anything but.

  “I will not tolerate behavior like that. You were disrespectful to both me and Tennessee. If you act like a spoiled little mafia brat, then I’ll treat you like one.”

  12

  Aria

  As soon as I tried to get off the bed, Matthew reached out and surprised me by grabbing a hold of one wrist, and then the other. And then using the leverage created by pulling on them, he managed to get me onto my stomach in the middle of the bed while maneuvering himself behind me in record time. Before I had a chance to realize what he was doing and try to prevent it, he had my arms lashed together then secured to the top of the bed with one of his expensive silk ties he had quickly pulled from the top drawer of the dresser right beside the bed. Then he stood at the end of the bed and pulled first one ankle away from its pair then the other, separating and binding each of them to a corner with another tie, so that I was held fast to the bed.

  “Let me go!” I tried to kick and pull to no avail. He’d effortlessly tied me to his bed, and I knew that struggling more would only make the knots in the ties even tighter. So, I remained still to try to preserve some dignity if that were even possible.

  “I can’t for the life of me understand why you refuse to follow orders,” he boomed as he walked to the side of the bed so he could look at me as he spoke. “Has no one taught you to obey a man?”

  I huffed. Obey a man? Was that something that even happened anymore in this day and age? “Hardly.”

  He glared at me, licking his lips as if all he wanted to do was taste my pussy. “Hardly what?”

  “I don’t know who you think you are. I can do and say whatever the hell I want. No man will ever have the power to say otherwise no matter how rich and powerful you think you are. And just because I follow my father’s rules, does not mean I will follow yours.”

  Matthew paused, seemingly taking it all in. “Well, that is a shame. Your lack of knowing what true submission can do to your body shows your inexperience and just how much of a mafia brat you truly are. You have no idea what pleasure can come from letting go. Release leads to an animalistic lust and desire unlike anything you could only fantasize about. Would you prefer a weak man? Would you prefer to be the one who holds all the power? Spoiled rich girl who goes running to Daddy Dearest whenever someone tells her something she doesn’t like. Do you want a man who is just as afraid of you as he is your father?”

  I remained motionless, clearly thinking about his question. Very slowly I shook my head. “No, I don’t want that. I much prefer a man to act like a… man. Dominant, strong, protective. But not a god damn monster like you.” I wanted to look away as my face heated but remained steadfast to show confidence and strength. “I sure as fuck don’t want you.”

  “Well then, princess,” he growled, “I won’t ask for your submission. I will simply demand it. You’re about to see how I’ll handle you when you break my rules or direction. The next time you ask the question ‘or else?’, you will know exactly how to answer it for yourself.” He reached under my belly and found the button and zipper to my pants and freed me from their hold. He then yanked down my pants and panties to my lower thighs, completely baring my behind. Fear.

  Yes, fear.

  I didn’t want to be spanked. Or maybe I did?

  Maybe that was what I was the most afraid about.

  My desires scared me. Terrified me.

  The tingle in my core only grew with each second, stealing my breath. Arching up violently as best I could and generally trying to work myself free, my heart beat so loud, I was sure he could hear it.

  And then, as he stood there staring down at my bare behind, he unbuckled his belt, and my efforts at escaping redoubled before his eyes. Not that it did me one bit of good. I was there, and that was where he wanted me to be, and where he was going to keep me until he thought that I had learned my
lesson.

  “Has no one ever punished you before me? Never had your ass licked by leather?”

  I shook my head. “Never,” I panted. “You can’t do this, you—”

  “What’s stopping me, Aria?”

  “I’ll be good. I’ll listen,” I replied in a tone sounding very much like pleading.

  He chuckled. “No, you won’t. Even after I belt you tonight, I have no doubt I’ll have to do it again and again. You’re stubborn, and that is fine by me. I’ll dance this dance with you gladly.”

  As he brought the wide leather strap down across my cringing ass for the first time, and the heavy thwack as well as my resultant bellow of agony I screamed resounded within the small room, he began to speak, ignoring both of the other sounds. “I don’t like to do this, Aria. I would much prefer if you had done as you were told and kept your mouth shut when both Tennessee and I warned you. Instead of yelling and moaning because you’re getting your firm ass belted, we could be downstairs enjoying the cobbler dessert that I know Tennessee made us. But you’re a stubborn woman, and I am a man who sets the rules. No one disobeys me. No one goes against my word. I demand respect, and I have different ways than some of making sure it happens.” The belt came crashing down upon my flesh at such a rapid speed, I could barely comprehend his lecture. “I am responsible for you, and I intend to keep you safe until I hand you over to your father. I have expectations and rules that will be followed no matter what. Respect. I demand it. Even if that means that I have to tan your hide every hour on the hour to help you remember that I mean you to do exactly what I say.”

  The belt had risen and fallen more times than I could count. How many stripes he gave me was of absolutely no meaning to him. He didn’t seem to be even close to letting up on his wicked discipline.

 

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