Ryan noticed me first. “Hey Tracker, what’s up?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re harassing my slave. Leave her alone so she can fold my laundry.”
Jessica turned toward me, her cheeks flushed. “They’re not bothering me. We’re just talking.”
Ryan waggled his brows at me. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”
That was it. I wasn’t going to stand by and let them degrade her like this. She was an innocent, not a damn prostitute.
I bared my teeth. “She’s mine, guys. So back off.”
“Oooh! Tracker’s staking his claim.” Luke snickered. “And we thought you were gay, man.”
I barely resisted the urge to smash Luke’s face in. He got a perverse pleasure out of pushing people to the point that they snapped, and he loved doing it, loved making people get so mad they wanted to kill him. He was an instigator, through and through.
“It’s okay, really,” Jessica persisted. “I’m fine. You can go back to your apartment. I’ll bring the laundry as soon as I’m done folding it.”
Ryan smirked. “Yeah, go back to your apartment. She doesn’t want to play with you.”
I marched up to Ryan, shoving my face into his. “I said back the fuck off and I mean it.”
Silence.
Jessica glanced from my furious face to Ryan, then Luke.
Ryan backed off. “Okay, man. Sorry. Didn’t know it was like that between you.” He turned his killer smile on Jessica. “Whenever you get tired of him, come see me, doll. I’ll show you a good time.” He winked.
Jessica blushed furiously, her gaze darting to mine. Then she hastily began gathering up the folded laundry. “It was nice to meet you, Ryan.” She nodded at Ryan. “And you, Luke.” She lifted an armful of laundry and headed toward the door. I grabbed the rest of the laundry off the table, not wanting to send her back here with these two to retrieve it, and followed her out. I wasn’t sure why I was being so protective of her, but I couldn’t allow her to be taken advantage of. Especially by those two assholes. If she was going to be corrupted by anyone, it was going to be by me. She was my slave. Not theirs. She’d come to me. Me. Not them.
We reached my apartment and she silently began putting the laundry away. I took the clean towels into the bathroom and put them in the cabinet while she went into my bedroom to put my clothes away. By the time she got done figuring out where everything went, I was leaning against the doorjamb of my bedroom, blocking her exit.
She closed the last dresser drawer and came toward me. “There. All done.” She hesitated, then lifted her gaze to mine. “You didn’t have to be so rude to those guys, you know. We were just talking. It’s not like you own me or anything.”
Irrational jealousy swept through me. So that’s how she was going to be? She’d agreed to do whatever I told her, whenever I told her. And that didn’t include flirting with Luke and Ryan. Damn her. I would have let it go, but now…the unfamiliar pang of jealousy made me step toward her. “I do own you. Until I find your sister, you’re mine. Remember, slave?”
Her gorgeous eyes flashed with fire. “I’m not a possession! And I can talk to whomever, whenever I want!” She lifted her chin, her hazel eyes burning a green-gold with flecks of blue. She was breathtaking. God, I wanted to sketch her. Her big, expressive eyes…the way she stood right now, hands on hips, head cocked defiantly.
Lust stirred inside me.
I didn’t want to just draw her.
I wanted her naked beneath me. On my bed. Right here. Right now.
Down boy.
“Do you have any idea what those two had planned for you?”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Those two like to double dip. You know what that is?”
Her cheeks stained bright red. “You mean…like a threesome?”
“Yeah, like a threesome. Except a little kinkier, a little rougher. Is that what you like?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze locked on mine. She slowly shook her head back and forth. “I…don’t think so,” she whispered. “I…” she broke off and tore her gaze from mine.
I’d scared her. Good. Maybe she’d keep her distance from the other dregs from now on. Though my experience with women was limited and I’d never had one living with me, I personally didn’t like to share my sex partners. If a woman was giving me her body, I didn’t want her giving it to anyone else until I was done with her. I was possessive that way.
I wasn’t a romantic, I just didn’t like to share. While some of the other dregs brought women home and passed them back and forth, I never did. The other dregs joked that I was gay. As if. I liked women and sex as much as the next guy. I was just more particular than they were. I had a preference for pure, untainted beauties. Like my new slave.
Slave. I had a slave now. A beautiful, sexy woman to use however I wanted. For a moment, the thought excited me as I envisioned all sorts of things I could make her do.
Don’t even think it.
I shifted my position, trying to relieve some of the pain in my thigh and the discomfort from my suddenly tight jeans. I remained in the doorway, blocking her escape. I didn’t plan on hurting her, but I wasn’t done with her yet. I wanted to test her, see what she would do if I touched her. Because God, I wanted to touch her. Was she as innocent as I imagined? I’d never been so tempted by a woman before.
She darted a glance up at my face, then quickly looked away. “Can I go now, please?”
I motioned toward my bed. “I have another task for you.”
She stilled. “I thought…” she broke off, her cheeks flaming.
Damn, she was cute. Did she really think I would force her? Probably. She didn’t know a thing about me. I was a dreg. A soulless beast. And I was still pissed that she’d been flirting with Ryan and Luke instead of with me, and that made me even angrier. I wasn’t the jealous type. And I sure as hell didn’t have any romantic feelings toward the woman. Sure, I wanted her. What guy wouldn’t? I hadn’t realized she was so innocent until she’d said she wasn’t that experienced. It had changed my view of her big time. She wasn’t just another whore. If she had been, it wouldn’t have bothered me so much seeing her flirting with the other dregs. She had a sweet wholesomeness I found incredibly hot. A braveness I admired. A strength I wanted to test. An innocence I wanted to corrupt. I wanted her to flirt with me, dammit. Not them. And that pissed me off. She was making me feel when I hadn’t known how to feel for so long.
I took another step toward her.
She backed away. “What…are you doing?”
“Come here, slave. I said I have another task for you.”
A mixture of fear and panic flashed in her expressive eyes. She shook her head back and forth. “What if I don’t want to?” Her voice shook slightly. I sensed the determination in her. She was afraid, yet still resisting. Would she eventually give in, or would she resist me until the very end?
A shot of pure lust swept through me at the idea of subduing her, of covering that hot little body with mine, of losing myself in her for hours on end. I originally hadn’t planned on touching her, but now…I wanted her.
Her gaze darted down to the front of my jeans, the evidence of my arousal making her eyes widen.
“Come here,” I repeated more forcefully.
She backed away. “No.”
“Are you refusing an order?”
She nodded. “I c-cleaned your damn apartment, I fixed your damn dinner, and I washed and folded and put your damn laundry away! But what have you done for me? Nothing!”
“Nothing?” I repeated, raising my voice. “I’ve done nothing for you?”
She swallowed hard. “Please, you’re scaring me.”
I snorted. “Good. Now be a good slave and come here. Don’t make me chase after you.”
Still, she resisted, backing up more. Another few steps and she would come up against the far wall. Did she really think she could escape me?
She dived to the left, try
ing to dart around me. I leapt sideways and tackled her, knocking her onto the bed. She cried out as she hit the mattress with me on top of her. She fought and hissed and squirmed and spit like a feral cat caught in a trap, taking me by surprise. This woman wouldn’t go down without a fight. She was like me in that regard. A survivor. A grudging respect emerged from inside me. But I was doing her a favor by trying to find her sister. The least she could do was obey me.
I straddled her hips, using my weight to hold her down, and finally managed to grab both of her wrists. I forced her arms above her head on the mattress and held them there until she quieted.
“You done fighting?”
Breathing heavily, she glared up at me, her gorgeous eyes a mixture of green, blue and gold and swirling with fear. Or was that arousal? She turned away before I could figure it out, bucking against me in another attempt at freedom, but all she succeeded in doing was turn me on even more. A part of me wanted her to keep resisting me, to keep fighting, so I could force her into submission. Except, I would never force her. I’d done some terrible things in my life, but rape had never been one of them. If I kissed her right now, would she give in? Would she kiss me back? If she submitted willingly, there would be no force. Longing swept through me. I wanted her to want me just as much as I wanted her.
I wanted her to give in willingly, to admit she wanted me, so I could take her here and now and get her out of my system. I wanted that desire I’d seen in her eyes to be real.
Jesus. I hadn’t even known her for twenty-four hours, yet she had me so mixed up inside I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with her. She was messing with my already screwed-up mind. I would never be content with her being just a cook and a cleaning lady. Not anymore. I had to have her. Goddammit.
But willingly. Not by force.
She finally gave up the fight and lay still, breathing heavily, her gaze frosty but also fearful.
“That’s a good slave,” I murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never force you. I want you to come to my bed willingly, not fighting like a caged mountain lion.”
She swallowed hard, her brilliant green-gold gaze locking on mine. “Never,” she whispered. “I’ll never come to your bed willingly. You’ll have to force me.”
Is that what she wanted, me to force her? I would get no pleasure out of forcing her, and neither would she. I couldn’t take her by force. I didn’t want her by force. It just wasn’t in me. My slave was too innocent, too pure. She would want a tender lover, one who worshipped her body and gave her multiple orgasms. I wanted her hot and pliant, her eyes glazed with lust, her soft moans filling the air as I licked and sucked every inch of her. When I took her, it would be completely consensual. In fact, I would make her initiate it to show her I refused to force myself on her in any way. I could make her cook and clean—no problem. But if she ever decided she wanted sex, she would have to come to me. She would have to beg. I wasn’t touching her again. Not until she begged me to. I had a lot of self-control—another thing I’d been taught at a young age. This wouldn’t faze me. Not in the least. It didn’t matter how much I wanted her. I could resist. Resisting meant strength. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t resist.
I released her abruptly and slid off the bed. I drew in a deep breath, slowly eased it out. Fuck. I wasn’t sure if I could resist her. Damn woman was messing with my mind. What the hell was she doing to me? Making me feel things like jealousy and anger and lust. I needed to get rid of her. Before she destroyed me.
She bolted upright, her eyes wild. She sprang off the bed and darted for the living room.
I let her go.
I took a few moments to compose myself, then followed after her. I needed her gone. She was making me crazy. Distracting me with lustful thoughts about her. I couldn’t deal with her right now. She would have to find someone else to help her.
She huddled on her cot against the wall, eyeing me warily as I came into the room. She glanced down at my leg, noticing my limp, but she didn’t comment on it.
“Leave.” I lifted my arm and motioned to the door. “The deal’s off. Go home. Get out of my apartment.”
She jerked her head up, panic flashing across her face. “But–”
“I said, get out!”
She leapt up from the cot and took a hesitant step toward the door. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, yanking open the door. With a last scathing glance at me, she went out into the dark corridor and yanked the door closed behind her.
I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. Gordon might disagree, because he believed I still had decency in me.
But she was right.
I was a monster.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jessica
I couldn’t believe he’d kicked me out. I stood trembling in the dark corridor, unable to see where I was going, desperately fighting back tears. What the hell had just happened in there? Tracker had kicked me out, called off our deal. Why? Because I said I wouldn’t go to him willingly? Well, if he wanted a damn prostitute, he’d have to go elsewhere.
Now what the heck would I do? I had nowhere to go, no one who could help me find Eliza.
You promised him you’d give him whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted if he helped find Eliza.
I choked out a sob. That was easier said than done. The man scared me, yet still somehow managed to turn me on at the same time. My attraction to him frightened me. He was a dreg. He might not even be all human. How could I be attracted to a man like him?
Would it really hurt to sleep with him?
Probably not. But my unwanted attraction to him unnerved me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Giving in to him went against my nature. I wasn’t about to become like my mother. Used and abused by men. If I gave in, then he would think he had the right to use me whenever he wanted. I was a fighter and always had been. It was hard enough being his slave without having to surrender my body, too. I’d made that mistake once already, mistaking sex for love, and I’d vowed never to do it again.
I stood there in indecision, staring into the darkness.
The laundry room was two doors down. Maybe one of the other dregs would help me.
Lifting my chin, I felt my way down two doors and turned the handle.
Ryan and Luke were still doing their laundry. They both glanced up as I stumbled into the room.
“Whoa, doll, what’s with the tears?” Ryan’s pretty-boy face filled with concern. He and Luke were the complete opposite in appearance. Ryan was dark-haired and amber-eyed, while Luke had blond hair and piercing blue eyes. As far as appearances went, Luke’s blond good looks were typically the type I preferred, but I sensed a violence in him, lurking close to the surface. Anyone who went by the nickname “The Enforcer” had to possess a certain amount of violence in order to be able to dish out “enforcement”, and that made me uncomfortable enough to steer clear. Interestingly, I didn’t sense that violence in Tracker, though I was positive he’d done bad things, too.
Both Luke and Ryan were big and muscular like Tracker and the redheaded hulk The Gardener. They were also handsome and charming. I had no doubt they were players.
Both dregs came forward, eyeing me curiously.
“Tracker…kicked me out,” I admitted. “He broke off our deal because I wouldn’t s-sleep with him.”
Luke cocked a blond brow. “What a bastard!” His words were teasing, an attempt to make me laugh. Luke had a slight hobbling motion to his walk. He had artificial knee implants after getting his knees shot out.
“Can’t say I blame you,” Ryan joked. “I wouldn’t want to sleep with him either.” Ryan had only one whole arm. The other ended at the elbow where a high-tech prosthetic was attached, the result of his arm having been blown off by an IED.
I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. They were trying to make me feel better and it was working. I wiped at my tears. “Are there any other dregs who can help me track my sister?”
The two men exchanged glances. “Nop
e. Tracker’s the best.” Luke shrugged. “I just enforce…things, and Ryan here uses his expertise to extract information from the females.” He winked. I didn’t ask how Ryan “extracted” information from women. I didn’t want to know. “Neither one of us has his tracking skills.”
I sighed. I’d figured as much. Now what would I do?
Ryan put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “There, there. No more tears. Luke and I will cheer you up. Let’s have a party back at my apartment.”
Uneasiness swept through me. Had Tracker just been trying to scare me, or had he been serious when he said these two liked to partake in threesomes?
“No, thanks.” I stepped away from him.
Now what would I do? Who would help me find my sister?
Ryan and Luke exchanged a long glance, something passing between them. “How did you get in here?” Ryan asked. “How did you find this place? Did Tracker bring you here?”
I hesitated. Should I tell them about the boy who’d shown me the tunnel? Would they harm him? “I don’t want to get my source killed.”
Luke scoffed. “You think we’re monsters or something?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
Ryan snorted. “Despite what they say about us, we’re not all that bad. Was it a shaggy-haired kid named Tommy?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, I think that was his name. You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
The Tracker Page 6