BOUND TO A KILLER

by Evelyn Glass

  “No one, except the guys who were there last night,” I replied. I didn’t know what I was planning to do with her—I mean, I had no intentions of hurting her, but it wasn’t like I could go back on straight–up purchasing a woman from an auction. And what, would those guys vouch for me? They probably thought I’d spent the whole night peeling her out of that dress and getting her to bend to my every whim. They had no reason to think I wasn’t.

  “So there are witnesses?” She raised her eyebrows. I could tell she was testing me, and I bristled in annoyance. Damn, I was trying to help her out, and here she was, treating me as though I was nothing more than some kind of rapist piece of shit.

  “Yeah, but good luck getting any of them to testify,” I replied tersely, running my hand over my head as I spoke. “If anyone asks them, they’ll say that you left with me of your own accord.”

  “The fuck?” She wrinkled her nose up. “But they—“

  “Unless they have a kink for getting arrested for human trafficking, you’re not going to get any of them on your side.” I held my hands up, a mock–apologetic expression on my face. “Sorry to break it to you.”

  “Shit,” she muttered to herself, and I could see the flash of panic across her face. She quickly wiped it clean and turned back to me.

  “If you let me go now, I won’t tell anyone about this,” she tried to reason with me, her tone soft and encouraging. “Just…let me walk out of here. No questions asked.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I agreed. “And let you take me in for the fourth time?”

  She pursed her lips at me briefly, and I could tell she was pissed that her attempts to get around me weren’t exactly successful.

  “Besides,” I pointed out. “No one’s going to testify that you didn’t leave with me of your own accord. You want that attached to your permanent record? That you hooked up with a criminal you’d arrested a bunch of times? That you just couldn’t resist my bad–boy charm?”

  She flopped down on the bed, and I could see her mind ticking over, trying to slot the pieces together. She was probably still half out of it from whatever drugs they’d given her while she was being held backstage. I was stunned, to be honest, that she was even slightly coherent. I watched as she tried to come up with another way out of this, and failed. She was resigned.

  “Why the fuck did you buy me?” She muttered. “You must hate me more than anyone in the world.”

  “You’re goddamn right,” I agreed. I didn’t want to admit, not even to her, that I hadn’t done this out of some sense of revenge. I couldn’t say it aloud to her, not yet. Because then I would have to admit the real reason that I’d done this. And coming to terms with that—a notion that had been beating around the back of my head for as long as I could remember, since I’d first met Thaddeus all those years ago—was harder than keeping her on the hook for a few minutes longer.

  “Can I have a shower?” She asked, looking around. “I feel gross.”

  “Bathroom’s through here,” I jerked my head to the door next to me. “Do whatever. But I’m coming in there with you.”

  “What? No!” She staring at me as though I’d told her I was going to pull out her fingernails one by one, which was particularly funny in that ridiculous failure of a dress

  “You’re not getting away that easily,” I raised my eyebrows at her. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “What, you think I was gonna—“

  “Try and climb out the window and make a run for it? Yeah, more or less.” I filled in the blanks for her. “Remember, you arrested me all those times. I know exactly what you’re capable of, and you’re not getting away from me that easy.”

  “Fine,” she muttered. “Do you have a robe or something I can change into? This dress…”

  She plucked at the pleather tersely, clearly pissed that it was even still on her body. I let out a sigh and shrugged.

  “Sure,” I reached into the wardrobe that was sitting next to me, and quickly went through the handful of clothes I’d dumped in there the night before. I tossed her a t–shirt, one big and baggy enough to cover her up, Well, mostly.

  “Take this,” I suggested. She held it up in front of her and inspected it for a moment, looking grossed out by the thought of wearing it in front of me. But it was better than the dress—even she seemed to recognize that—and she clambered out of bed and made a dash for the bathroom.

  “Can I at least get undressed in peace?” she shouted at me, and I ran my hands over my face. Goddamn, but why did she have to make things so fucking difficult?

  “Sure,” I sighed. I listened carefully, making sure she kept the door open as she stripped down; I caught sight of the red dress landing in the doorway, and felt my cock stirring in my pants. Fuck. I had to fight the urge to peer around the door and catch sight of her. I heard her climbing into the shower and switching it on, and tugging the curtain across for a little privacy.

  “You can come in now,” she called, and I entered the bathroom, putting down the seat and perching on the edge. I could see the shape of her through the curtain; I was just looking to make sure she wasn’t trying to pull off any bullshit, I told myself, that was it. I certainly wasn’t eyeing her up, watching the way her slim form moved back and forth behind the curtain. The light was streaming through the window in such a way that I could make out her silhouette almost perfectly; she couldn’t see me looking, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I forced myself to look away, and my gaze landed on the panties that were sitting, cast aside, on the floor only a few inches from my feet. They were very small and plain, black cotton. I was bewildered that she’d managed to hide them under the bandage of that dress, but clearly she had, somehow. I imagined her ass in them, imagined inching them down her gorgeous body once and for all…

  I shook the thoughts from my head. I was just horny after deciding to white–knight it out of the club the evening before. I didn’t want her, I just wanted someone. My dick was rock hard in my jeans now, and it just made sense to reach down and squeeze the head through the rough denim. Not like that would make it any easier to wait. After all, I had paid for her. I had kept her safe. I found myself thinking of stepping into the shower and taking what I’d paid for – and then she pulled back the curtain.

  Chapter Seven

  I never intended to let it get that far, I can promise you that. When I went into that shower, I just wanted some time to myself, a few minutes to think things over and put another plan in place.

  If I knew guys like Breaker—and I did—I could say for damn certain that the best way to keep them distracted was to offer them up the one thing they couldn’t say no to: pussy. Breaker had left two women at the bar the night before, and he hadn’t laid a finger on me as I slept—he was probably backed up to all hell, distracted by how horny he was. I could see him through the thin shower curtain watching me as I showered, and I made sure to put on a show for him—bending this way and that, twisting and shifting and bending to make sure that he was getting an eyeful. I needed him distracted. I needed him thinking of something beyond keeping me here against my will. I wasn’t used to using my sexuality to get what I wanted, but it wasn’t hard to guess the ways he wanted me to move. I had made sure to leave my panties on full display, and had no intention of putting them on once I was out of the shower.

  It helped a lot that I had always…well, I didn’t want to admit it, but I had always thought that Breaker was pretty cute. For a criminal, that is. I worked with a lot of assholes, a lot of real pieces of shit, and most of them wore their lives of awfulness on their faces—cuts, scars, bruises, line from years of smoking like a chimney and drinking like a fish. Breaker, though I knew he did all of that as much as the rest of them, still had his looks. He must have known that they worked in his favor; maybe he just liked being the only guy that women around him paid any attention to. He didn’t exactly have a whole lot of competition in his line of work.

  I pulled back the curtain, and looked down at him; he was sta
ring at the floor, as though trying to convince himself that he wasn’t ogling me. I swung out a hip and stood there, peering at him, until he finally looked back at me. He didn’t even bother keeping his eyes on mine; he let his gaze coast down the entirety of my body, wet and dripping as I was. I put my hands on my hips and pushed my chest out, then pushed a strand of soaked hair from my eye, and pointed towards the shirt on the floor.

  “Can you pass me that?” I asked, my voice soft. I needed him to drop his guard, then I would be out of here. He leaned down and picked it off the floor, and held it toward me—but nowhere within my reach. Fine. I bent forward from the waist to take it from him, making sure that I brushed up close to him as I did so. My breasts were hanging close to his face, and he let out a deep breath as he glanced at them, heavy enough that I could feel the heat of it against my skin.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, stepping out of the shower. I leaned down to pick up my panties, making sure that he could see my pussy and my ass. I heard him let out a small groan from behind me, and I knew it was working. I just needed to seal the deal…

  I swiveled around, holding the shirt protectively against my chest, and leaned down to him. I put my hands on his shoulders, letting the fabric drop to the floor below me. He forced himself to look up and into my eyes; I met his gaze. And then, I leaned in and kissed him.

  I’d intended to kiss him, maybe grope him, and then run for it while he was busy thinking about what he’d get me to do next. That wasn’t what happened. He surged up off the seat, making me backpedal across the floor until my back collided with the closet door. I made a small squeaking sound, which was all the leverage he needed to slide his tongue into my mouth. I tried to push back against him, but his thigh slipped between my legs, and all the fear and adrenaline coalesced into sheer, desperate need. I wrapped my arms around him and stopped fighting; I pulled myself into him, opening my mouth wider to him. His hands ran up and down my bare thighs, and growled against my mouth.

  He leaned down and began kissing my neck, running his teeth across my throat; he finally reached my breasts, catching one in his hand, and nipping the nipple between his lips, tugging at it until it grew hard. I moaned and let my head fall back, gripping his hair and holding him in place. The panic and stress and intensity of the last twelve hours seemed to drop away, funneled into that cathartic moment. His hands travelled down my back, gripping my ass, and pushing his quickly–hardening cock against me. I could feel the size of it through his pants, and I found myself groping for it, wanting to feel the strength of it in my hands.

  I couldn’t get enough of him—he tasted of whisky and smoke, and smelled sweetly of some kind of aftershave—had he put that on for me? What an old romantic he was. Suddenly, he pulled me away from the wall and turned me around, placing his hand on my lower back to push me down. I gripped the edge of the bathtub for support, and spread my legs—I was already wet, my pussy aching for him. I heard him rip a condom open, and then the tip of him was pressed against me.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he growled, his voice low and animalistic. “When I paid for you, I paid for this. Isn’t that right?” I arched my back, trying to drive him into me, but he dodged me easily. “Say it.”

  “You paid for me,” I murmured. “I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.” God, what was I doing? Maybe I should – and then he pushed himself into me in one swift motion, impaling me on his dick all at once. He was thicker than I had expected, stretching me around him as he held himself inside me for a moment; we both stood stock–still, as though neither of us could believe this was really happening. And then, I pulled my hips forward and pushing them back, taking as much of him as I could in one movement. He sucked in a sharp breath, and ran his hand along my spine. I couldn’t see him, but I could picture his reaction—a small furrow appearing in his brow, perhaps, his mouth tightening into an “o” as he finally began to fuck me.

  He didn’t hold back, and it was though I represented some kind of catharsis, a chance to break free of the stress of the night before. How long had he been holding this back? He sank one hand into my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, before landing a short, sharp slap against my flesh. I jumped, but a moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. It just felt so goddamn good.

  “Play with yourself,” he muttered, and I didn’t need any more encouragement—I slid a hand between my legs and found my clit, drawing small circles around my sensitive nub in time with the pace of his thrusts. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations coursing across my body—the feel of his warm hand against my flesh, his breath as it coursed through the cool morning air, the way my pussy seemed to tighten around his cock with every thrust—

  “Fuck!” I cried out, my eyes flying open as I came. I didn’t expect it—I usually had to use a vibrator to make myself come, but I couldn’t hold myself back as the sensations ripped through my body. My cunt clenched around him a few times, so hard that I worried he might never get himself free—but he seemed content to push himself deep inside me, bottoming out with a groan and letting his grip on me loosen a little. He seemed content to hold himself inside of me for a few moments before he pulled out, and even as my orgasm subsided, I knew that I could have happily stayed like that for the rest of the day. He seemed to fit inside me perfectly, and, as my breathing returned to normal, it took me way longer than it should have to begin to question what the hell I had just done.

  Chapter Eight

  I pulled out of her and disposed of the condom in the trashcan next to the toilet; I couldn’t help but sneak another quick look at her body. She was straightening back up, and I could make out the gorgeous curves of her body in all their glory. When she was bent over, it was harder to see the way her waist smoothed out into her shapely hips, or the way her strong legs led up into that perfect ass. It was as though all the puzzle pieces that made her up fit together flawlessly.

  And then, finally, my brain seemed to click back into action. How the fuck had this happened? She had been trying to seduce me, sure. I wasn’t an idiot, and I could tell that she had decided that she was going to use my stupid libido against me. She must have known that I walked away from a threesome with two of the most gorgeous women I’d ever laid eyes upon for her. Maybe she was just paying me back for that? Yeah, right. Because a cop being held against her will wasn’t treating every scenario as a chance to break free and get me thrown in prison once again.

  I couldn’t believe that I’d fallen for it so easily. In my defense, what man could have resisted her when she was like this? Now that she was out of that uniform, she was like the nerd who pulled of her glasses at the end of a makeover montage. She was strong, muscular, lean…and had one of the most gorgeous pussies I’d ever laid eyes on in my life. As soon as she bent over in front of me, shifting her weight so that I could get a good look, I knew there was no chance that I could turn her down. I was already rock–hard when she kissed me, and then…

  How had it happened so fast? My guard was never down. That was the only way I’d managed to stay alive all this time. But Angel did things to me that no–one else had ever been able to do before. Maybe it was just the knowledge that I was finally fucking her the way she’d fucked me with all those arrests. Maybe it was just a catharsis, a chance for me to prove to both her and myself that I could be the one in charge. But…she’d started the seduction. She’d taken control. And now I had to do whatever I could to get back on top after the way she’d screwed with my head.

  “Get this on,” I grabbed the shirt from where she had dropped it on the floor, and tossed it to her. She caught it out of the air, and pulled it over her head. She looked at me for a moment, brow furrowed. She reached down for her panties and slipped them on over her hips. I let my eyes briefly drift down to take her in. She tugged the bottom of her shirt down, as though she didn’t want me to see her. Bit late for that now.

  “What’s the matter?” she demanded, as she looked away. “Wa
nt a second go–round? I wasn’t good enough for ten grand?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered. I made my way through to the bedroom again, laying out on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. She joined me, and pulled the covers over her bare legs primly. What the fuck? What was going through her mind right now?

  We both sat there in silence. I could feel the blood pulsing around my system just being this close to her again. I wanted to reach out and touch her. Everything had been over so quickly that I hadn’t gotten a chance to feel every inch of her, and now I had no idea if we’d ever end up doing it again. We’d both given in, in what she would no doubt characterize as nothing more than a moment of weakness. But we had wanted it. We had both wanted it, by the end. And that hadn’t been part of the plan.

  Angel sat silent, and I could tell that, like me, she was trying to figure out where we stood now that all of that had gone down. I glanced over at her, and found her petulantly staring at the wall, making a point to avoid eye contact with me. I couldn’t blame her. She probably thought that’s what I wanted– maybe she assumed that’s why I’d purchased her in the room just below us the night before. Well, maybe it was time to dissuade her of that illusion.