Page 165 of Bad Attitude
I don’t know the answer to that question. I wish I did, but I don’t.
What kind of manliesabout who he is, drugs me, kidnaps me, ties me up, then leaves me here?
Footsteps outside tell me I’m about to find out. Even though I know it’s futile, I can’t help but gnaw at the ropes again. It hurts my teeth, but I still try, only stopping as the door opens.
“Enough of that,” Declan says as he walks in. He’s dressed in just a pair of blue jeans, naked from the waist up, feet bare, his back to me. He carries a box to the vaulting horse without even looking at me.
“Enough of—” Talking makes me cough, my throat too dry. It’s a moment until I can finish my question. “—what?”
“Gnawing like a fieldmouse.”
He couldn’t have known. He couldn’t have seen… not unless he has a camera somewhere in here.
Fuck, of course he does. That’s why he’s here now. He knew I was awake.
“What the hell is this, Declan?”
He turns around. Despite myself, my eyes are drawn to his perfect torso, on display. I’ve seen it so many times, just never when I’ve been tied up.
Hell, even that’s not true. Just not tied up… as his prisoner.
More true.
So it takes me a moment to realize he’s holding a sports bottle, a straw poking out. My throat convulses with the need for water, and once I’ve noticed it, I can’t look away.
“Just a precaution,” he says, as he walks over. “You’re a flight risk.” He holds the bottle for me, the straw angled for easy access. “Thirsty?”
He knows I am. It might be drugged,but I’m almost past caring. I’m so damn desperate for it I close my lips around it without question, almost moaning in pleasure as cold water runs over my tongue and down my throat.
“Slowly,” he murmurs.
Yeah. Like he cares about my welfare when he’s drugged me and tied me up in his fucking dungeon.
He lets me have half the bottle before he steps back, regarding me. Then he pulls something from his pocket. A little black device. For a moment, I think it’s the hardware wallet, but it’s too small. It’s a remote. He clicks a button, and there’s a whir from behind me. The garage door. Is he opening it?
No… instead, the ropes pull on my wrists, arms lifting inch by inch, and I can’t stop them.
He hits another button when I’m up on my toes, and the motor stops.
The ache in my shoulders comes back viciously, and I glare at him. “Just aprecaution?” I ask, tone scathing.
He smiles slowly. “You really are a little hellcat.”
“Do you not know how to treat a woman?”
“I know how I’m going to treat you.”
I swallow, nervous. It’s not just his words, it’s his tone. Full of promise, and not in a good way. Cold, almost sadistic, yet with a hint of anticipation that raises goosebumps on my skin.
And he hasn’t let me down. I don’t know why I thought he would, as if he could still just beplayingafter he’s drugged me, brought me here, tied me up… stripped me.
“Declan, this isn’t funny.”
“Oh, your serious voice.” His head tilts as he watches me, a smile flirting with his lips. “I agree,” he says at last. “Funny is not what this is.”
“You need to let me go.”
“I probably will,” he says, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “How quickly depends on you.”
