“What’s up, Emily? Everything okay in your room?” he asked softly, brushing a hand through his gorgeous blond hair.
I tried not to sigh dreamily, focusing on the task at hand as much as possible.
“It’s fine, but I actually wanted to ask you a question,” I began nervously, hoping he would hear me out.
Already, I could see the subtle narrowing of his eyes, the glint of suspicion reflected back at me. He reached out to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
“What’s the question? There’s only so much I can tell you. I have no idea what they’ll do with your father, I don’t honestly know what they’ll do with y—” He cut himself short before I could properly interrupt, but it suited me just as well.
“It’s not about my father. You should be happy to know that I’ve decided to tell the FBI everything. He needs help, and this might be his one chance to get it,” I said, wanting to start on a good note and butter him up.
He seemed all too aware of my intent, though.
“That’s good. I’m happy to hear that, Emily—more than you can begin to know. But there’s obviously something else on your mind, so just spit it out,” he said.
I knew there was still time to back out, but if there was an inkling of a chance he’d agree to go with me, I was going to take it.
“I thought, after the long day we’ve had, that you and I could go out for drinks. Visit a couple of bars, get to know each other. Relax for the first time since we escaped,” I suggested with a hopeful smile.
His eyes only narrowed further, and it was clear he was none too pleased by my suggestion. Before I could begin to argue my point, he’d made his decision.
“If you want to relax, you’ll have to do it here. As much as I may like you, and as much as we get along, you’re still my captive. The feds would have my head if they knew I took you out on the town,” he said dismissively.
As I parted my lips to speak, he glared at me with force I’d never received from him.
“I’m being serious, Emily. I have to hand you over soon, and leaving the safe house jeopardizes the entire mission. I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”
As much as I wanted to argue, I knew it was a moot point. I should have known already that I was being transferred from one prison to another. What Owen didn’t know was that he was nothing of a warden compared to my father.
This little jailbird planned to grow her wings and fly, whether he liked it or not.
Chapter 14
Owen
I didn’t revel in the idea of keeping Emily from having a birthday celebration. I felt awful about how I’d had to let her down, and would continue letting her down until I turned her in and never saw her again.
I was downright miserable, and it wasn’t made any better by the kindness she continued to show me, in spite of her disappointment. She had every right to be angry; it wasn’t as if the situation was actually fair. I would probably be pissed if the tables were turned, but there she was, acting as if this were the most natural situation in the world.
The fortunate thing about the safe house was that it was very small, and I didn’t have to work too hard to be able to keep an eye on her. The only windows were on the north facing wall, which meant there was a small window in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the living room. As I was spending much of my time on the ragged sofa positioned against the south facing wall, it meant I didn’t have to keep too close of an eye on Emily.
It left me plenty of time to reflect on my feelings for her. She had become almost impossibly sweet in spite of how cold I’d been, and while I knew I had to do what was best for the mission, it was still difficult to shake the desire to show her a good time.
Then again, her idea of a good time seemed to be tangling herself in the bedsheets with me, the poor repressed girl. She truly had no idea what she would be getting involved with, and once more, I battled with the thought that she wouldn’t be able to have a fling without feelings being involved.
Emily was a source of constant surprises, however. When I thought she would veer one way and give into melodramatic antics, she seemed happy enough to sit beside me on the couch and watch television. We didn’t exactly have an expensive cable package, only having a few channels to surf through before being forced to decide on something. She assured me that she didn’t mind watching a rerun of an old football game, and truthfully, there was nothing any more interesting on.
Hoping that she remained blissfully ignorant of the fact that she was haunting my thoughts, I glanced at her as inconspicuously as I could manage. She was fixated on the tiny television, resting her elbows on her knees as she hunched over on the impossibly hard couch.
I wondered if the novelty of the situation had begun to wear off yet, but she’d yet to indicate as such. It was getting late all the same, and I was really ready to go to bed. I couldn’t sleep until she decided she was good and ready to do so as well, because I wasn’t sure if I could trust her not to bust out of the place.
“You aren’t tired after all we’ve been through?” I asked, feigning a casual tone.
She shrugged a bit, not bothering to look at me.
“I’m a little sleepy, but I really want to get a shower in before I go to bed. I feel all grimy and…unappetizing,” she said with a slight smirk.
I didn’t really think about her request initially, only musing that unappetizing was just the opposite of how she looked. I wanted nothing more than to pin her down on those scratchy sheets and show her what she had been missing out on for so long.
Shaking off the thought, I was all too aware of her watching me with a timid little smile. For some reason, she seemed almost hesitant about the request, though I couldn’t exactly figure out why. I was fully prepared to send her off to the bathroom to wash up with the soap I could only hope had been stocked.
However, a thought suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks and I realized why she might have been nervous about asking.
With the window being in the bathroom, it would be foolish for me to allow her in there alone. She could easily turn on the shower and shimmy out the window without me being any the wiser. I was almost positive she wouldn’t do something as foolish as that, but I definitely wasn’t going to take any chances. She’d been something of a wild card, after all.
My first instinct was to tell her that she could just get a shower after I handed her over to the feds, and it would no longer be my problem. It seemed almost cruel to deprive her of such a simple pleasure, though.
Rubbing my chin thoughtfully, I considered my options. I could take a risk on her, but that just wasn’t going to happen. No way, no how. I mused that the only real option that held any measure of kindness was offering to supervise her while she washed up. I felt a stirring in my gut at the thought, but I made no move to voice it.
I was almost sure she would decline. After all, who could blame her? If she decided against the shower on her own accord, however, I would feel much less guilty than if I hadn’t offered at all.
Steeling my gaze, I tried to keep my expression cool and passive as I turned to face her. She immediately began to deflate, but against my better judgement, I reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She reddened, awkwardly glancing at the place where my hand was resting.
“I understand if the answer is no, Owen. I can’t expect you to put your job on the line without being sure I won’t make a break for it,” she said sadly.
“You’re right. You can’t expect that. But, I have another option that we can consider,” I began, and she stared at me much like a deer in headlights.
I could immediately tell where her mind was going, and as much as I’d have liked the idea of showering with her, it just wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to put her feelings on the line.
Before she could panic (or maybe even get her hopes up?) too much, I finished telling her my idea.
“I can wait outside the shower curtain while you’re washing up, and then
I’d have some insurance that you can’t escape,” I offered.
It was obvious that she was somewhat dubious about the offer, though she began to look the part of the cat who got the canary after a moment. She took me by the wrist, pulling me in the direction of the bathroom. I was torn between disappointment that she hadn’t backed down, and a strange excitement that I didn’t dare voice.
“Thank you so much! I’ll feel so much better after getting nice and clean,” she gushed, smiling.
I resisted the desire to make a comment about her getting dirty immediately after, but I wasn’t entirely confident that I kept my expression from betraying my lewd thoughts.
Dragging me the final distance to the bathroom, Emily released me and stepped away to begin undressing. It was my turn to look shocked, and I quickly cleared my throat, steering her behind the shower curtain.
“You can undress in there,” I said assertively, and she giggled as I heard her shuffling around in the stall.
I didn’t really know what was so funny about me trying to be considerate, but soon, she peeked her head out and handed over her clothes.
“Seems like you don’t trust yourself to just…keep your eyes closed,” she said with a pleased little lilt in her voice.
I couldn’t exactly reply that she was entirely right, and that if I saw her naked body, I wasn’t sure what I would do to her. I simply shrugged, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Just trying to preserve your modesty. I wouldn’t want to make this arrangement any more uncomfortable than it needs to be,” I settled upon saying, and she only laughed again before slipping back behind the curtain.
I heard the knobs being turned, the water shooting out of the shower head in a gush.
“Ah! Damn—cold, cold,” she cried out.
My thoughts immediately turned to the effect that the cold water would be having on her body—specifically, a certain part of her body that I longed to play with. The thought of her nipples hardening as cold water flowed over her naked breasts sent a slithering tendril of desire coiling in the pit of my stomach.
“It’ll warm up; don’t be a baby,” I managed to get out.
She didn’t answer me, instead sighing in pleasure as the water got to a more bearable temperature. I could imagine her look of bliss, which would have imprinted itself on my memory forever, would I have been able to actually see it. The thought was tortuous enough.
“Mmm, it feels so good,” she murmured, but I was almost sure she knew I could hear her.
It wasn’t as if the bathroom was particularly large, so I was forced to remain achingly close to the shower curtain, and her naked body behind it.
I remained silent, feeling a stirring in my groin as she continued to sigh and moan. I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me, but I wasn’t going to let her know how much it was working. I was helpless to think about anything besides tearing the curtain open and pinning her to the wall.
“Hurry up, I don’t have all night,” I said gruffly, attempting to hide the arousal in my voice.
She whined, peeking out of the curtain. I felt her eyes travel south, and was suddenly aware of the growing bulge in my pants. She smirked, looking me in the eye with a mischievous expression.
“Okay, okay. You sure you don’t want to swap out? Seems like you could use a bit of alone time, unless of course—” she started, but I quickly cut her off.
“I’m fine. Just peachy, all right? I’m just tired,” I said icily, putting a stop to whatever dirty thought was playing in her mind.
I didn’t say as much, but I was putting a stop to my own crude thoughts as well.
“Just let me get rinsed off. Can you grab a towel?” she asked, her voice still painfully sultry.
I rummaged around in the cabinet, grabbing a large towel and pressing it into her waiting palm after she shut the water off. As I thought of her drying off, I realized I’d never been more jealous of an inanimate object in my life. I wasn’t even sure I’d been jealous of any inanimate object prior to that very moment.
“You’re going to have to turn around and face the door. I’m not getting my clothes wet,” she said.
“They’re…on the counter, then. Get on with it,” I grumbled, turning to face away from the shower. I could feel her presence behind me, steam flowing out from behind the freshly opened curtain. It would have been so easy to simply turn around and sweep her into my arms.
“All right, all dressed,” she reported.
I couldn’t admit how disappointed I was to see that she was telling the truth.
Chapter 15
Emily
After the moment we’d shared in the bathroom, Owen seemed ready to turn in for the night. His expression was troubled, and as much as I wanted to soothe his pain, it didn’t seem as if he would be willing to give me the chance. I could tell he was attracted to me, and while I was relatively sure it was only on a physical level, I was also sure that there would be no man I’d rather give my virginity to.
Even if I never saw him again, it was a moment I wanted us to share. I wouldn’t voice the thought, though we both knew it was well evident. If Owen truly didn’t want me, I wasn’t going to push the issue.
At least, not when I had so much else occupying my mind. I’d been making an effort to be as kind as I could manage, even after he’d rejected my request to go out for drinks altogether. There was an ulterior motive, as I’m sure he suspected.
No matter how suspicious he was, though, I wasn’t going to risk my plan by being cold towards him. After all, you could always capture more flies with honey than vinegar. Admittedly, I had been something of a tease in the shower. I was almost hoping he would be overcome with desire and simply have his way with me.
Being dominated was a thought I felt rather enamored with, especially considering how easily he could pin me down and do whatever he wanted. I’d have been foolish not to notice his impeccable musculature, not to mention the sizable bump in his jeans. He had been unable to hide his reaction in the bathroom, and I could almost sense that I was wearing down his defenses.
He was still determined to see me caged like some exotic bird, a part I was willing to play…as long as he was awake.
In that moment, we stood facing each other at the foot of the bed. His lips were pursed, and though I had my doubts, I hoped he would sleep on the couch or something that night. He crossed his arms, looking from the bed, to the door, to the couch and back to the bed again.
He wasn’t particularly good at disguising his growing irritation, though I wasn’t sure which of us he was more bothered by. He seemed to do a good enough job of getting sullen without my help.
“You can sleep on the couch. There aren’t any windows in here,” I pointed out.
He looked as if he wanted to entertain the notion, but then shook his head unhappily.
“There’s not a lock on the door, either. I can’t risk you trying to sneak off while I’m dead to the world,” he said firmly.
I resisted the desire to roll my eyes, determined to keep my pleasant facade up. I shrugged, gesturing towards the bed with a cheeky smile.
“Well, somehow, I have my doubts that you’d be willing to share the bed. I wouldn’t have any complaints, so if there are really no other options…” I drawled, stretching the words out in a sexy croon.
He flinched, and I took a moment to wonder if his arousal had abated altogether. There was almost a guilty look in his eyes, as if he wanted to do something unforgivable. At least, unforgivable in his own eyes. He could do to consider life from another perspective besides the one that had that stick so far up his ass.
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” he said, though I couldn’t be sure how much weight the words carried.
Did he just mean literal sleep, or was this his final rejection to my advances?
I shook my head disdainfully, moving to slide beneath the sheets. He watched me with his mouth slightly agape, and maybe he hadn’t been finished arguing, but I was definitely don
e.
“I don’t want to argue about this, Owen. You can sleep in the bed beside me, you can sleep on the sofa. Whatever you decide, I’d rather you try to do it soon. I’m exhausted and ready for some rest,” I said.
Sighing contently, I settled into the sheets, resting my head against the pillow. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, but it would do. I didn’t plan to do any sleeping, anyway. There was no reason Owen needed to know that, though.
Almost as if reading my thoughts, he frowned before shuffling to the closet, where there were some extra linens that had seen better days. He spread them out on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed. I watched him with a sliver of disbelief for a moment before laughing outright.
He couldn’t be serious. There was no way he would be so bullheaded.
“If you try anything, I’ll wake up. I’m a light sleeper,” he announced coolly.
I considered him with a raised brow, crossing my arms behind my head and allowing my head to drop back down. In spite of his claims, I was still confident in my ability to sneak out of the place without him knowing. Buff macho man on the floor or not, I wasn’t going to let him scare me.
He seemed to realize I was no longer paying him any mind, so he turned off the light before dropping to the floor like a rock. He groaned softly in pain.
“Comfortable down there?” I asked, fighting off my giggles.
“Just great,” he replied bitterly, and I could hear him shuffling around in the little cocoon he’d made for himself.
I rolled my eyes, well aware that he couldn’t see me now. We lay in the darkness, the silence somewhat uncomfortable, though neither of us dared to break it. I closed my eyes, going through the motions of slowing down my breathing. He shifted at the foot of the bed, and I could feel his eyes on me.
“Good night, then, I guess. Sleep well, Emily,” he said softly.
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