Stockholm Syndrome

by Brooks, JB

  “Oh yeah, sounds like she had a fucking terrible time!” Mason could hear the grin in Owen’s voice. “I bet she had far more fun than you.”

  “Just get on with it, Owen!”

  “All right, all right, I’m doing it now. The ladies didn’t want to let me go.”

  The sound of metal scraping on metal echoed through the phone as Owen unlocked the strongbox.

  “Okay, I’ve got The Pact. What was her name again?”

  “Evelyn. Evelyn Maier.”

  Mason waited patiently.

  “Umm, Mace, I’m not seeing an Evelyn Maier on The Pact.”

  Mason’s gut clenched. “Look again, Owe. Check the whole list.”

  He waited again, longer than before, listening to Owen’s breathing over the phone.

  “Fuck, Mace. She’s definitely not on here. And to be honest, her name doesn’t ring any bells. Over the last few weeks, they all came to pay me their entry fees and register, and I don’t remember meeting an Evelyn Maier. I know I’m not the best with remembering names, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign her up.”

  “Shit!” A horrible dread settled in Mason’s stomach. Owen was speaking to him again.

  “…sure that’s her name?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got her student card in front of me.”

  “Okay, let’s not fucking panic,” said Owen, sounding slightly panicked himself. “I’m going to log on to the university intranet and do a search for her. I need to use my mobile, so I’ll call you back in a couple of minutes.”

  The call ended. Mason sat at the table and stared at the girl on the bed. She looked so peaceful, resting deeply with her eyelashes lying dark and feathery against her pale skin. His throat tightened. Had he made a terrible mistake?

  He jumped when his mobile rang, and snatched up the phone. “Well?”

  “I found her.” Owen’s voice was unsteady. “She is a student here, but she’s a postgrad. She’s also an assistant lecturer for the Psychology Department. You’ve caught a member of the fucking faculty!”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah… Did you actually…fuck her, Mace?”

  “I… Yeah.” His voice cracked. “Goddamn it! She’s so small, and she’s beautiful, and I… I…” He couldn’t go on.

  “I’m coming up! Don’t move, I’m on my way.”

  Mason sat with his head in his hands. Owen’s banging on the door got him up, and he let his brother in. The two men stood next to the bed and looked at the sleeping woman. Her small form clearly outlined under the blanket seemed almost child-sized, except for the big, rounded breasts and flaring hips.

  “How did it happen, Mace?” asked Owen in a hushed voice.

  “I went ’round by the sports fields, into the parklands, and she was just there, walking along. When she heard me, she started running, so I chased her. She was bloody fast too… She nearly made it off the campus.”

  “And you didn’t think that was strange?”

  “Honestly, no. You know how some girls really get into it. They scream and run, and try to get away. It’s like a little switch flips in their brains and instinct takes over in the moments just before you catch them. I’ve had that happen a lot.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Owen shrugged. “So what happened next?”

  “She looked back and tripped. I caught her in time to save her from a nasty fall on the bricks. She would’ve outrun me if she hadn’t fallen.”

  “Fucking bad luck. But didn’t she fight you?”

  “She struggled a bit in the beginning. And I threatened her! I was just playing the bad guy, but god knows what she thought.”

  He swung on his heel, unable to look at the still figure under the blanket, fighting the urge to run out the door and just keep running. How in hell was he going to face her when she woke up?

  Owen clasped his shoulder, squeezing hard. “Just tell me the rest, Mace.”

  He groaned. “It just gets worse and worse. I gagged her with one of those ball gags and walked her back here. When we got close, I hooded her and carried her the rest of the way. I basically stripped her, tied her to the bed, and…” His voice was bitter and full of confusion.

  “Did you force her?” Owen could hardly get the words out.

  “God, no! No, she wanted me to…eventually.”

  “And you said she came! So she must have enjoyed it?”

  “Oh, she definitely enjoyed it, but it’s just a mechanical thing. If you rub the right spots long enough, it happens, you know.”

  Owen looked doubtful. “Maybe you’re right. But I still don’t get how you didn’t realize…”

  “Owe, the thought that she wasn’t part of The Chase didn’t even enter my mind. She was here late at night, wandering around the lonely paths. And in a white shirt with jeans and trainers! She looked just like all the others. Christ, when I got her shirt off, she wasn’t even wearing a bloody bra! I was so convinced she was one of us that everything she did made sense to me. And I left the hood on to make it better for her, more intense.”

  “Fuck! That explains it, I guess. But…”

  “No more buts, Owe. We need to decide what to do.” There was no way that he was telling his brother how he played with her exquisite tits for almost an hour, until she got wet in spite of the fear she must have been feeling. Until she wanted him, wanted the release he offered her. Or how he ate her tender, tangy pussy after he fucked her, working her with his mouth and fingers until she orgasmed, stealing her sweet juices like a prize and making her part of him forever. The smell and taste of her now imprinted on his brain, a hunger for her raged darkly in his blood, even through his shock. Some primal part of him wanted to keep her tied to his bed, splayed open for his fingers, tongue, and cock. He’d be in and out of her all the time. He’d never let her go. He’d caught her, and now she belonged to him.

  Owen was shaking him. “Fuck, Mace, snap out of it! Your face…”

  Mason wrenched his thoughts back to reality, his heart pounding almost as hard as when he played The Chase. Shit, something was wrong with him, but there wasn’t time to think about it now. He needed to make plans.

  “So what are you going to do when she wakes up?”

  “I’m going to talk to her, obviously.”

  “No shit! What ya gonna say?”

  “Don’t be a smartass now, Owe. This could be a really dangerous situation. I’m going to find out how she feels about what’s happened. If she’s cool, then there’s no problem, but if she’s angry…” He shrugged. He’d deal with that if it happened.

  “When will you talk to her?”

  “Right now. I’m going to wake her up. It will be better if you’re not here.”

  “Great! I’ll go back downstairs.”

  “Like hell you will! Go wait in the room next door. If this goes badly, I’ll need your help.”

  “Fuck, Mace…”

  “Just be there, Owen. This won’t take long.” He ushered his brother out the door and watched him go into the next room. Satisfied that Owen would wait for a little while at least, he closed the door and turned back to Evelyn.

  ***

  “Evelyn! Evelyn, wake up!”

  Something was shaking her leg. She dragged herself toward consciousness, wondering why she felt so sluggish and tired. What time had she gone to bed last night? Her body felt achy. Was she sick?

  Then she left that transient dimension of peace that exists between sleep and wakefulness, and remembered everything. A deluge of emotions poured through her at finding herself still in her awful predicament—fear, anger, and, most of all, guilt. Terrible, humiliating guilt. She wished she could sink back into oblivion. Had she really allowed a complete stranger to have sex with her? And how could she have enjoyed it so much? Oh god, what kind of a person was she? Panic surged through her body, giving her hot and cold chills. How could she live with herself?

  But what choice had there been? She’d been overpowered, tied up! He’d probably have done it anyway.

>   But maybe he would have stopped. Maybe she should have kept fighting. But the pleasure of his touch… Even the memory of it made her pussy tingle.

  No. No! It was his fault, not hers. He’d stalked her and caught her. He’d put her in this untenable position in the first place. The fact that she’d ultimately received pleasure was irrelevant. She’d also been badly frightened.

  And there was another thing. Her blood ran cold. He hadn’t used a condom, had he? She’d had unprotected sex with a complete stranger.

  But he had been gentle. He’d tried to please her. It was very strange. Maybe there was something she didn’t understand?

  Yeah, right! As if there could be any excuse for what he’d done! It was just wrong. She was a victim, and he should be punished. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her fault—it was his!

  “I know that you’re awake, Evelyn. Please will you sit up and talk to me? I’m not going to touch you.”

  She wedged the blanket firmly under her arms so that it covered her breasts securely, and struggled into a sitting position, pushing herself back so that she could lean against the headboard. They stared at each other.

  He really was a big man. He loomed over the bed then hastily sat down at the far end of the mattress, as if trying not to intimidate her. He twisted to face her, the movement doing spectacular things to the bulging ridges of muscle across his abdomen and sides. She pulled her legs up to her chest under the blanket with an involuntary jerk, and he held his hands up, palms toward her.

  “Please, Evelyn, I’m not going to harm you. I just want to talk. I’m sorry for what happened.”

  His face turned to her, his expression pleading, wide pale-green eyes staring into hers. His shaggy black hair looked unkempt, as if he hadn’t bothered with a haircut for some time. It flopped over his forehead, brushing against his eyelashes, and he jerked his head impatiently to flick it out of the way.

  “I thought you were someone else, a member of a team…sort of. We were playing a stupid game.” His voice was bitter, drawing her eyes to his mouth, twisted in a grimace of displeasure. His lips, thin and taut and very masculine, added strength to his features. She took in his chin, square, but not too prominent. Wow, an extremely attractive man, she thought with a pang of regret, watching the movement of his throat as he swallowed. If she’d met him socially…

  But of course, she didn’t want to meet men since her divorce. Not even drop-dead gorgeous ones. She focused on what he was saying.

  “…mistake. But I’m a very wealthy man, and I’d like to make this up to you—”

  It was like a red flag to a bull. Evelyn’s blood boiled. “What is it with bloody wealthy men?” she hissed, interrupting him. “Why do you all assume that you can buy people off, or just pay them to do what you want? Wealthy men have done nothing but cause me trouble all my life and you’re the worst!” She scrambled off the bed, pulling her blanket wrap with her, and turned to confront him angrily. “Do you think you can just buy me off and your little problem will go away?”

  “I’m not trying to buy you off,” he said, looking startled as she advanced on him. “I’m offering to compensate you for the inconvenience I’ve caused you. Although you…agreed…in the end, I realize you didn’t want to be in this situation in the first place. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  “Oh, the right thing, sure. While conveniently bypassing the part where you go to jail for rape and kidnapping! Do you think you can go around ruining people’s lives and expecting to be let off scot-free because, oh whoops, it was a mistake?” She was almost nose to nose with him now, and with a rush of satisfaction, she saw the color drain from his face.

  “No, Evelyn,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You were ready for me. You wanted to do it. I saw you nod when I asked. Please… I know I shouldn’t have caught you, but it wasn’t rape…”

  ***

  Mason stared into her flushed face in utter dismay. Standing so close, she wasn’t much more than a head taller than him as he sat on the bed. Her deep-blue eyes flashed with anger, swimming with tears. Absurd thoughts chased each other through his mind, but mostly he wished that he could take her in his arms and kiss her better—just kiss all her hurt and pain away, like his mother used to do for him when he was a little boy. Then keep kissing her until she never wanted to leave him, until she begged him to keep her forever. She was obviously an innocent, a good girl. Hell, she was probably freaking out over the whole thing and beating herself up for having an orgasm. The urge to comfort her almost overwhelmed him.

  He blinked. What was he thinking? This woman hated him. She wanted to see him hurt, punished, for what he’d done to her. He wondered how she’d react if he suggested she do the punishing herself. He’d never submitted to anybody in his life, but he might just consider it for her.

  Christ, what was wrong with him? He needed to focus on the problem at hand and figure out how to fix the fuck-up this situation had become. But her tits were right there under his nose. She had a death grip on that blanket, but there was no hiding the lavishly thrusting flesh under the soft fabric. Flesh that he was intimately familiar with, as his raging cock under his jeans reminded him. He couldn’t think straight.

  “Evelyn,” he rasped, “go and have a shower. There’s a bathroom in there. You might as well get cleaned up.”

  “I don’t want to shower! I want you to let me go. You made a mistake, and every minute that you keep me here makes it worse.”

  “Well, I’m not letting you go ’til you shower. So get in there right now!” he said, his voice a whip-crack of command.

  She looked taken aback at the abrupt end to their conversation. Flashing him a withering glare, she gathered up her jeans and t-shirt and stormed into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he could think clearly when she wasn’t too near him.

  He couldn’t believe how much Evelyn affected him. No woman had captured his interest for over four years, and suddenly he was having a full-blown reaction to this one—one who hated his guts.

  He’d attended to his sexual needs, of course. He had an arrangement with a woman in Rockhampton. She was about ten years older, but in good shape, and generous and enthusiastic about sex. Most importantly she was happily married, with two grown-up teenage kids, and with no intention of leaving her husband, whom she adored. The problem was that her husband was a sweet and considerate lover, and she was a closet sub who enjoyed rough sex. Mason was more than happy to help her out, and had plenty of opportunity to do so, since her husband worked on fly-in-fly-out projects on the mines. So he fucked frequently, but kept it casual, and that was how he liked it.

  The shower started up in the bathroom and he groaned. She was in there, so close, naked and wet with slippery soapsuds running all over her satiny skin. Small as she was, he could just walk in, pick her up and put her on his cock. In the world of Mason Brady, successful businessman and sexual Dominant, that was how it worked.

  He needed more distance, so he let himself out of the room, locking the door behind him. It was time to tell Owen the bad news.

  His brother, sitting at the desk in the room next door, jumped up expectantly. “So, what happened?”

  “She’s crying rape.” His voice was flat, but conveyed a world of disappointment.

  “Fuck! So now what? Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

  Mason squared up to his brother. “I’m going to keep her.”

  Owen blinked and stared. “I beg your pardon? You couldn’t possibly have just said… What the fuck are you thinking?”

  “It’s very simple. If I let her go now, she’ll run straight to the police. She hates me.”

  “Fuck! But couldn’t you just explain—”

  “Owe, think for a moment. I’d be in deep shit. Life-ruining shit. And it’s very likely that other people who were here playing The Chase will be in shit too, like you, since you organized it.”

  Owen sank back into the chair, obviously dumbfound
ed.

  Mason continued urgently. “The point is that I’m not a rapist and I didn’t rape her. This was all a terrible mistake. I love women! I’m not hate-filled and violent toward them. I damn sure don’t want to harm them! But with the way this looks—like I planned it, like I stalked her—I could end up in bloody jail! It would be her word against mine. Think what it would do to Mom and Dad!”

  Owen looked shaken. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck!”

  “Yeah, this is serious! So I can’t just let her go. I have to keep her until I can convince her not to go to the police.”

  “How the fuck are you going to do that?”

  “I have no bloody clue! But I have to think of something. And I have to hang on to her until I do. Surely you can see that?”

  “But if you keep her, it goes from being an accident to a full-on kidnapping. It’ll make everything much worse!”

  “Unless I can persuade her not to turn me in. It’s a risk I have to take. She’s very upset right now. She might calm down in a few days.”

  “I don’t like the odds.”

  “Well, obviously. But you have to help me anyway.”

  “What do you mean, help you?”

  “We need to move her. Don’t look at me like that! I can’t keep her here in that tiny room. You organized this place for twenty-four hours, for The Chase. Tomorrow we have to be out and I suppose some of the res students might come back. It would be impossible to hide her here for long.”

  “So what the fuck are you going to do with her?”

  “We are going to take her up to the ranch. It’ll be safe. Besides George and Edna, nobody will know she’s there, and they won’t interfere.”

  “Oh crap, Mace! That’s eight hundred kilometers away. And we’ll have to drive—we can’t fly with her along.”

  “That’s right, and I want to leave within a couple of hours, by three at the latest. So you need to pack some stuff, and bring your van around to the res car lot where I parked. Do you have a helper who can finish up The Chase?”

  “Yeah, Andy can do it. But can’t we wait a bit? All the girls want to fuck me ’cause I’m the Captain. There’s a line of them waiting for me downstairs!”