Twist Me: The Complete Trilogy E-Book

Anna Zaires

• Herausgeber: Mozaika Publications
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Twist Me: The Complete Trilogy

Leseprobe

TwistMe

The Complete Trilogy

Anna Zaires

♠ Mozaika Publications ♠

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Anna Zaires and Dima Zales

http://annazaires.com/

All rights reserved.

Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

Published by Mozaika Publications, an imprint of MozaikaLLC.

www.mozaikallc.com

Cover by Najla Qamber Designs

www.najlaqamberdesigns.com

e-ISBN: 978-1-63142-118-1

ISBN: 978-1-63142-119-8

TwistMe

Twist Me: Book1

Prologue

Blood.

It’s everywhere. The pool of dark red liquid on the floor is spreading, multiplying. It’s on my feet, my skin, my hair… I can taste it, smell it, feel it covering me. I’m drowning in blood, suffocating init.

No! Stop!

I want to scream, but I can’t draw in enough air. I want to move, but I’m restrained, tied in place, the ropes cutting into my skin as I struggle againstthem.

I can hear her screams, though. Inhuman shrieks of pain and agony that slice me open, leaving my mind as raw and mangled as her flesh.

He lifts the knife one last time, and the pool of blood turns into an ocean, the rip current sucking mein—

I wake up screaming his name, my sheets soaked through with cold sweat.

For a moment, I’m disoriented… and then I remember.

He will never come for me again.

1

Eighteen Months Earlier

I’m seventeen years old when I first meethim.

Seventeen and crazy aboutJake.

“Nora, come on, this is boring,” Leah says as we sit on the bleachers watching the game. Football. Something I know nothing about, but pretend I love because that’s where I see him. Out there on that field, practicing everyday.

I’m not the only girl watching Jake, of course. He’s the quarterback and the hottest guy on the planet—or at least in the Chicago suburb of Oak Lawn, Illinois.

“It’s not boring,” I tell her. “Football is a lot offun.”

Leah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just go talk to him already. You’re not shy. Why don’t you just make him noticeyou?”

I shrug. Jake and I don’t run in the same circles. He’s got cheerleaders climbing all over him, and I’ve been watching him long enough to know that he goes for tall blond girls, not short brunettes.

Besides, for now it’s kind of fun to just enjoy the attraction. And I know that’s what this feeling is. Lust. Hormones, pure and simple. I have no idea if I’ll like Jake as a person, but I certainly love how he looks without his shirt. Whenever he walks by, I feel my heart beating faster from excitement. I feel warm inside, and I want to squirm in myseat.

I also dream about him. Sexy dreams, sensual dreams, where he holds my hand, touches my face, kisses me. Our bodies touch, rub against each other. Our clothes comeoff.

I try to imagine what sex with Jake would belike.

Last year, when I was dating Rob, we nearly went all the way, but then I found out he slept with another girl at a party while drunk. He groveled profusely when I confronted him about it, but I couldn’t trust him again and we broke up. Now I’m much more careful about the guys I date, although I know not all of them are likeRob.

Jake might be, though. He’s just too popular not to be a player. Still, if there’s anybody I’d want to have my first time with, it’s definitelyJake.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Leah says. “Just us girls. We can go to Chicago, celebrate your birthday.”

“My birthday is not for another week,” I remind her, even though I know she’s got the date marked on her calendar.

“So what? We can get a head start.”

I grin. She’s always so eager to party. “I don’t know. What if they throw us out again? Those IDs are just not thatgood—”

“We’ll go to another place. It doesn’t have to be Aristotle.”

Aristotle is by far the coolest club in the city. But Leah was right—there were others.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it. Let’s get a head start.”

Leah picks me up at 9p.m.

She’s dressed for clubbing—dark skinny jeans, a sparkly black tube-top, and over-the-knee high-heeled boots. Her blond hair is perfectly smooth and straight, falling down her back like a highlighted waterfall.

In contrast, I’m still wearing my sneakers. My clubbing shoes I hide in the backpack that I intend to leave in Leah’s car. A thick sweater hides the sexy top I’m wearing. No makeup and my long brown hair in a ponytail.

I leave the house like that to avoid any suspicion. I tell my parents I’m going to hang out with Leah at a friend’s house. My mom smiles and tells me to havefun.

Now that I’m almost eighteen, I don’t have a curfew anymore. Well, I probably do, but it’s not a formal one. As long as I come home before my parents start freaking out—or at least if I let them know where I am—it’s allgood.

Once I get into Leah’s car, I begin my transformation.

Off goes the thick sweater, revealing the slinky tank-top I have on underneath. I wore a push-up bra to maximize my somewhat-undersized assets. The bra straps are cleverly designed to look cute, so I’m not embarrassed to have them show. I don’t have cool boots like Leah’s, but I did manage to sneak out my nicest pair of black heels. They add about four inches to my height. I need every single one of those inches, so I put on the shoes.

Next, I pull out my makeup bag and pull down the windshield visor, so I can get access to the mirror.

Familiar features stare back at me. Large brown eyes and clearly defined black eyebrows dominate my small face. Rob once told me that I look exotic, and I can kind of see that. Even though I’m only a quarter Latino, my skin always looks lightly tanned and my eyelashes are unusually long. Fake lashes, Leah calls them, but they’re entirelyreal.

I don’t have a problem with my looks, although I often wish I were taller. It’s those Mexican genes of mine. My abuela was petite and so am I, even though both of my parents are of average height. I wouldn’t care, except Jake likes tall girls. I don’t think he even sees me in the hallway; I’m literally below his eye level.

Sighing, I put on lip gloss and some eye shadow. I don’t go crazy with makeup because simple works best onme.

Leah cranks up the radio, and the latest pop songs fill the car. I grin and start singing along with Rihanna. Leah joins me, and now we’re both belting out S&M lyrics.

Before I know it, we arrive at theclub.

We walk in like we own the place. Leah gives the bouncer a big smile, and we flash our IDs. They let us through, no problem.

We’ve never been to this club before. It’s in an older, slightly rundown part of downtown Chicago.

“How did you find this place?” I yell at Leah, shouting to be heard above the music.

“Ralph told me about it,” she yells back, and I roll myeyes.

Ralph is Leah’s ex-boyfriend. They broke up when he started acting weird, but they still talk for some reason. I think he’s into drugs or something these days. I’m not sure, and Leah won’t tell me out of some misplaced loyalty to him. He’s the king of shady, and the fact that we’re here on his recommendation is not super-comforting.

But whatever. Sure, the area outside is not the best, but the music is good and the crowd is a nice mix of people.

We’re here to party, and that’s exactly what we do for the next hour. Leah gets a couple of guys to buy us shots. We don’t have more than one drink each. Leah—because she has to drive us home. And me—because I don’t metabolize alcohol well. We may be young, but we’re not stupid.

After the shots, we dance. The two guys who bought us drinks dance with us, but we gradually migrate away from them. They’re not that cute. Leah finds a group of college-age hotties, and we sidle up to them. She strikes up a conversation with one of them, and I smile, watching her in action. She’s good at this flirting business.

In the meantime, my bladder tells me I need to visit the ladies’ room. So I leave them andgo.

On my way back, I ask the bartender for a glass of water. I am thirsty after all the dancing.

He gives it to me, and I greedily gulp it down. When I’m done, I put down the glass and lookup.

Straight into a pair of piercing blueeyes.

He’s sitting on the other side of the bar, about ten feet away. And he’s staring atme.

I stare back. I can’t help it. He’s probably the most handsome man I’ve everseen.

His hair is dark and curls slightly. His face is hard and masculine, each feature perfectly symmetrical. Straight dark eyebrows over those strikingly pale eyes. A mouth that could belong to a fallen angel.

I suddenly feel warm as I imagine that mouth touching my skin, my lips. If I were prone to blushing, I would’ve been beet-red.

He gets up and walks toward me, still holding me with his gaze. He walks leisurely. Calmly. He’s completely sure of himself. And why not? He’s gorgeous, and he knowsit.

As he approaches, I realize that he’s a large man. Tall and well built. I don’t know how old he is, but I’m guessing he’s closer to thirty than twenty. A man, not aboy.

He stands next to me, and I have to remember to breathe.

“What’s your name?” he asks softly. His voice somehow carries above the music, its deeper notes audible even in this noisy environment.

“Nora,” I say quietly, looking up at him. I am absolutely mesmerized, and I’m pretty sure he knowsit.

He smiles. His sensuous lips part, revealing even white teeth. “Nora. I likethat.”

He doesn’t introduce himself, so I gather my courage and ask, “What’s yourname?”

“You can call me Julian,” he says, and I watch his lips moving. I’ve never been so fascinated by a man’s mouth before.

“How old are you, Nora?” he asksnext.

I blink. “Twenty-one.”

His expression darkens. “Don’t lie tome.”

“Almost eighteen,” I admit reluctantly. I hope he doesn’t tell the bartender and get me kicked out ofhere.

He nods, like I confirmed his suspicions. And then he raises his hand and touches my face. Lightly, gently. His thumb rubs against my lower lip, as though he’s curious about its texture.

I’m so shocked that I just stand there. Nobody has ever done that before, touched me so casually, so possessively. I feel hot and cold at the same time, and a tendril of fear snakes down my spine. There is no hesitation in his actions. No asking for permission, no pausing to see if I would let him touchme.

He just touches me. Like he has the right to do so. Like I belong tohim.

I draw in a shaky breath and back away. “I have to go,” I whisper, and he nods again, watching me with an inscrutable expression on his beautifulface.

I know he’s letting me go, and I feel pathetically grateful—because something deep inside me senses that he could’ve easily gone further, that he doesn’t play by the normal rules.

That he’s probably the most dangerous creature I’ve evermet.

I turn and make my way through the crowd. My hands are trembling, and my heart is pounding in my throat.

I need to leave, so I grab Leah and make her drive mehome.

As we’re walking out of the club, I look back and I see him again. He’s still staring atme.

There is a dark promise in his gaze—something that makes me shiver.

2

The next three weeks pass by in a blur. I celebrate my eighteenth birthday, study for finals, hang out with Leah and my other friend Jennie, go to football games to watch Jake play, and get ready for graduation.

I try not to think about the club incident again. Because when I do, I feel like a coward. Why did I run? Julian had barely touchedme.

I can’t fathom my strange reaction. I had been turned on, but ridiculously frightened at the sametime.

And now my nights are restless. Instead of dreaming of Jake, I often wake up feeling hot and uncomfortable, throbbing between my legs. Dark sexual images invade my dreams, stuff I’ve never thought about before. A lot of it involves Julian doing something to me, usually while I’m helplessly frozen in place.

Sometimes I think I’m going crazy.

Pushing that disturbing thought out of my mind, I focus on getting dressed.

My high school graduation is today, and I’m excited. Leah, Jennie, and I have big plans for after the ceremony. Jake is throwing a post-graduation party at his house. It will be the perfect opportunity to finally talk tohim.

I’m wearing a black dress under my blue graduation gown. It’s simple, but it fits me well, showing off my small curves. I’m also wearing my four-inch heels. A little much for the graduation ceremony, but I need the added height.

My parents drive me to the school. This summer I’m hoping to save enough money to buy my own car for college. I’m going to a local community college because it’s cheaper that way, so I’ll still be living athome.

I don’t mind. My parents are nice, and we get along well. They give me a lot of freedom—probably because they think I’m a good kid, never getting in trouble. They’re mostly right. Other than the fake IDs and the occasional clubbing excursions, I lead a pretty sedate life. No heavy drinking, no smoking, no drugs of any kind—although I did try pot once at a party.

We arrive and I find Leah. Lining up for the ceremony, we wait patiently for our names to be called. It’s a perfect day in early June—not too hot, not toocold.

Leah’s name is called first. Luckily for her, her last name starts with ‘A.’ My last name is Leston, so I have to stand for another thirty minutes. Fortunately, our graduating class is only a hundred people. One of the perks of living in a smalltown.

My name is called and I go to receive my diploma. Looking out onto the crowd, I smile and wave to my parents. I’m pleased that they look so proud.

I shake the principal’s hand and turn to go back to myseat.

And in that moment, I see him again.

My blood freezes in my veins.

He’s sitting in the back, watching me. I can feel his eyes on me, even from a distance.

Somehow I make my way down from the stage without falling. My legs are trembling, and my breathing is much faster than normal. I take a seat next to my parents and pray that they don’t notice my state.

Why is Julian here? What does he want from me? Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to calm down. Surely he’s here because of someone else. Maybe he has a brother or a sister in my graduating class. Or some other relative.

But I know I’m lying to myself.

I remember that possessive touch, and I know he’s not done withme.

He wantsme.

A shudder runs down my spine at the thought.

I don’t see him again after the ceremony, and I’m relieved. Leah drives us to Jake’s house. She and Jennie are chattering the entire way, excited to be done with high school, to start the next phase of our lives.

I would normally join in the conversation, but I’m too disturbed by seeing Julian, so I just sit there quietly. For some reason, I hadn’t told Leah about meeting him in the club. I only said that I had a headache and wanted to gohome.

I don’t know why I can’t talk to Leah about Julian. I have no problem spilling my guts about Jake. Maybe it’s because it’s too difficult for me to describe how Julian makes me feel. She wouldn’t understand why he frightensme.

I don’t really understand it myself.

At Jake’s house, the party is in full swing when we arrive. I am still resolved to talk to Jake, but I’m too freaked out from seeing Julian earlier. I decide that I need some liquid courage.

Leaving the girls, I walk over to the keg and pour myself a cup of punch. Sniffing it, I determine that it definitely has alcohol, and I drink the fullcup.

Almost immediately, I start to feel buzzed. As I had discovered in the past few years, my alcohol tolerance is virtually nonexistent. One drink is just about my limit.

I see Jake walking to the kitchen, and I follow him there.

He’s cleaning up, throwing away some extra cups and dirty paper plates.

“Do you want some help with that?” Iask.

He smiles, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, sure, thanks. That would be awesome.” His sun-streaked hair is a little long and flops over his forehead, making him look particularlycute.

I melt a little inside. He’s so handsome. Not in the disturbing Julian way, but in a pleasantly comfortable sense. Jake is tall and muscular, but he’s not all that big for a quarterback. Not big enough to play ball in college, or at least that’s what Jennie once toldme.

I help him clean up, brushing some chip crumbs off the counter and wiping up the punch that had spilled on the floor. The entire time, my heart is beating faster from excitement.

“Nora, right?” Jake says, looking atme.

He knows myname!

I give him a huge grin. “That’s right.”

“That’s really awesome of you to help, Nora,” he says sincerely. “I like throwing parties, but the cleaning is always a bitch the next day. So now I try to clean a little during, before it gets really nasty.”

My grin widens further, and I nod. “Of course.”

That makes total sense to me. I love the fact that he seems so nice and thoughtful, so much more than just ajock.

We start chatting. He tells me about his plans for next year. Unlike me, he’s going away to college. I tell him I’m planning to stay local for the next two years to save money. Afterwards, I want to transfer to a real university.

He nods approvingly and says that it’s smart. He’d thought about doing something like that, but he was lucky enough to get a full-ride scholarship to the University of Michigan.

I smile and congratulate him. On the inside, I’m jumping up and down injoy.

We’re clicking. We’re really clicking! He likes me, I can tell. Oh, why hadn’t I approached him before?

We talk for about twenty minutes before someone comes into the kitchen looking forJake.

“Hey, Nora,” Jake says before he goes back to the party, “are you doing anything tomorrow?”

I shake my head, holding my breath.

“How about we go see a movie?” Jake suggests. “Maybe grab dinner at that little seafood place?”

I grin and nod like an idiot. I’m too afraid to say something stupid, so I keep my mouthshut.

“Great,” Jake says, grinning back at me. “Then I’ll pick you up atsix.”

He goes back to being the party host, and I rejoin the girls. We stay for another couple of hours, but I don’t talk to Jake again. He’s surrounded by his jock friends, and I don’t want to interrupt.

But every now and then, I catch him looking my way and smiling.

I’m floating on air for the next twenty-four hours. I tell Leah and Jennie all about what happened. They’re excited forme.

In preparation for our date, I put on a cute blue dress and a pair of high-heeled brown boots. They’re a cross between cowboy boots and something a bit dressier, and I know I look good inthem.

Jake picks me up at six o’clock sharp.

We go to Fish-of-the-Sea, a popular local joint not too far from the movie theater. It’s a nice sit-down place, not too formal.

Perfect for a firstdate.

We have a great time. I learn more about Jake and his family. He asks me questions too, and we discover that we like the same types of movies. I can’t stand chick flicks for some reason, and I really enjoy cheesy end-of-the-world stories with lots of special effects. So does Jake, apparently.

After dinner, we go see a movie. Unfortunately, it’s not about an apocalypse, but it’s still a pretty good action film. During the movie, Jake puts his arm around my shoulders, and I can barely suppress my excitement. I hope he kisses me tonight.

When the movie is done, we go for a walk in the park. It’s late, but I feel completely safe. The crime rate in our town is negligible, and there are plenty of streetlights.

We’re walking and Jake is holding my hand. We’re discussing the movie. Then he stops and just looks atme.

I know what he wants. It’s what I want, too.

I look up at him and smile. He smiles back, puts his hands on my shoulders, and leans down to kissme.

His lips feel soft, and his breath smells like the minty gum he was chewing earlier. His kiss is gentle and pleasant, everything I hoped it wouldbe.

Then, in a blink of an eye, everything changes.

I don’t even know what happened or how it happened. One minute, I’m kissing Jake, and the next, he’s lying on the ground, unconscious. A large figure is looming overhim.

I open my mouth to scream, but I can’t get more than a peep out before a big hand covers my mouth andnose.

I feel a sharp prick on the side of my neck, and my world goes completelydark.

3

I wake up with a pounding headache and queasy stomach. It’s dark, and I can’t see a thing.

For a second, I can’t remember what happened. Did I have too much to drink at a party? Then my mind clears, and the events of last night come rushing in. I remember the kiss and then… Jake! Oh dear God, what happened toJake?

What happened tome?

I’m so terrified that I just lie there, shaking.

I am lying on something comfortable. A bed with a good mattress, most likely. I’m covered by a blanket, but I can’t feel any clothes on my body, just the softness of cotton sheets against my skin. I touch myself and confirm that I’m right: I’m completely naked.

My shaking intensifies.

I use one hand to check between my legs. To my huge relief, everything feels the same. No wetness, no soreness, no indication that I’ve been violated in anyway.

For now, at least.

Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Crying wouldn’t help my situation now. I need to figure out what’s going on. Are they planning to kill me? Rape me? Rape me and then kill me? If it’s ransom they’re after, then I’m as good as dead. After my dad got laid off during the recession, my parents can barely pay their mortgage asis.

I hold back hysteria with effort. I don’t want to start screaming. That would attract their attention.

Instead I just lie there in the dark, every horrifying story I’ve seen on the news running through my mind. I think of Jake and his warm smile. I think of my parents and how devastated they’ll be when the police tell them I’m missing. I think of all my plans, and how I will probably never get a chance to attend a real university.

And then I start to get angry. Why did they do this? Who are they, anyway? I assume it’s ‘they’ instead of ‘he’ because I remember seeing a dark figure looming over Jake’s body. Someone else must’ve grabbed me from theback.

The anger helps hold back the panic. I’m able to think a little. I still can’t see anything in the dark, but I canfeel.

Moving quietly, I carefully start exploring my surroundings.

First, I determine that I’m indeed lying on a bed. A big bed, probably king-sized. There are pillows and a blanket, and the sheets are soft and pleasant to the touch. Likely expensive.

For some reason, that scares me even more. These are criminals with money.

Crawling to the edge of the bed, I sit up, holding the blanket tightly around me. My bare feet touch the floor. It’s smooth and cold to the touch, like hardwood.

I wrap the blanket around me and stand up, ready to do further exploration.

At that moment, I hear the door opening.

A soft light comes on. Even though it’s not bright, I’m blinded for a minute. I blink a few times, and my eyes adjust.

And I seehim.

Julian.

He stands in the doorway like a dark angel. His hair curls a little around his face, softening the hard perfection of his features. His eyes are trained on my face, and his lips are curved in a slight smile.

He’s stunning.

And utterly terrifying.

My instincts had been right—this man is capable of anything.

“Hello, Nora,” he says softly, entering theroom.

I cast a desperate glance around me. I see nothing that could serve as a weapon.

My mouth is dry like the desert. I can’t even gather enough saliva to talk. So I just watch him stalk toward me like a hungry tiger approaches itsprey.

I am going to fight if he touchesme.

He comes closer, and I take a step back. Then another and another, until I’m pressed against the wall. I’m still huddling in the blanket.

He lifts his hand, and I tense, preparing to defend myself.

But he’s merely holding a bottle of water and offering it tome.

“Here,” he says. “I figured you must be thirsty.”

I stare at him. I’m dying of thirst, but I don’t want him to drug me again.

He seems to understand my hesitation. “Don’t worry, my pet. It’s just water. I want you awake and conscious.”

I don’t know how to react to that. My heart is hammering in my throat, and I feel sick withfear.

He stands there, patiently watching. Holding the blanket tightly with one hand, I give in to my thirst and take the water from him. My hand shakes, and my fingers brush against his in the process. A wave of heat rolls through me, a strange reaction that I ignore.

Now I have to unscrew the cap—which means I have to let go of the blanket. He’s observing my dilemma with interest and no small measure of amusement. Thankfully, he’s not touching me. He’s standing less than two feet away and simply watchingme.

I press my arms tightly against my body, holding the blanket that way, and unscrew the cap. Then I hold the blanket with one hand and lift the bottle to my lips to drink.

The cool liquid feels amazing on my parched lips and tongue. I drink until the entire bottle is gone. I can’t remember the last time water tasted so good. Dry mouth must be the side effect of whatever drug he used to get mehere.

Now I can talk again, so I ask him, “Why?”

To my huge surprise, my voice sounds almost normal.

He lifts his hand and touches my face again. Just like he did at the club. And again, I stand there helplessly and let him. His fingers are gentle on my skin, his touch almost tender. It’s such a stark contrast to the whole situation that I’m disoriented for a moment.

“Because I didn’t like seeing you with him,” Julian says, and I can hear the barely suppressed rage in his voice. “Because he touched you, laid his hands onyou.”

I can barely think. “Who?” I whisper, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. And then it hits me. “Jake?”

“Yes, Nora,” he says darkly. “Jake.”

“Is he—” I don’t know if I can even say it out loud. “Is he… alive?”

“For now,” Julian says, his eyes burning into mine. “He’s in the hospital with a mild concussion.”

I’m so relieved I slump against the wall. And then the full meaning of his words hits me. “What do you mean, fornow?”

Julian shrugs. “His health and wellbeing are entirely dependent onyou.”

I swallow to moisten my still-dry throat. “Onme?”

His fingers caress my face again, push the hair back behind my ear. I’m so cold I feel like his touch is burning my skin. “Yes, my pet, on you. If you behave, he’ll be fine. Ifnot…”

I can barely draw in a breath. “Ifnot?”

Julian smiles. “He’ll be dead within aweek.”

His smile is the most beautiful and frightening thing I’ve everseen.

“Who are you?” I whisper. “What do you want fromme?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he touches my hair, lifts a thick brown strand to his face. Inhales, as though smellingit.

I watch him, frozen in place. I don’t know what to do. Do I fight him now? And if so, what would that accomplish? He hasn’t hurt me yet, and I don’t want to provoke him. He’s much larger than me, much stronger. I can see the thickness of his muscles under the black T-shirt he’s wearing. Without my heels on, I barely come up to his shoulder.

While I contemplate the merits of fighting someone who probably outweighs me by a hundred pounds, he makes the decision for me. His hand leaves my hair and tugs at the blanket I’m holding so tightly.

I don’t let go. If anything, I clutch it harder. And I do something embarrassing.

Ibeg.

“Please,” I say desperately, “please, don’t dothis.”

He smiles again. “Why not?” His hand is continuing to pull at the blanket, slowly and inexorably. I know he’s doing it this way to prolong the torture. He could easily rip the blanket away from me with one strongtug.

“I don’t want this,” I tell him. I can barely draw in air through the constriction in my chest, and my voice comes out sounding unexpectedly breathy.

He looks amused, but there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. “No? You think I couldn’t feel your reaction to me in theclub?”

I shake my head. “There was no reaction. You’re wrong…” My voice is thick with unshed tears. “I only wantJake—”

In an instant, his hand is wrapped around my throat. He doesn’t do anything else, doesn’t squeeze, but the threat is there. I can feel the violence within him, and I’m terrified.

He leans down toward me. “You don’t want that boy,” he says harshly. “He can never give you what I can. Do you understandme?”

I nod, too scared to do anythingelse.

He releases my throat. “Good,” he says in a softer tone. “Now let go of the blanket. I want to see you naked again.”

Again? He must’ve been the one to undressme.

I try to plaster myself even closer to the wall. And still don’t let go of the blanket.

He sighs.

Two seconds later, the blanket is on the floor. As I had suspected, I don’t stand a chance when he uses his full strength.

I resist the only way I can. Instead of standing there and letting him look at my naked body, I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor, my knees drawn up to my chest. My arms wrap around my legs, and I sit there like that, trembling all over. My long, thick hair streams down my back and arms, partially coveringme.

I hide my face against my knees. I’m terrified of what he’ll do to me now, and the tears burning my eyes finally escape, running down my cheeks.

“Nora,” he says, and there is a steely note in his voice. “Get up. Get up rightnow.”

I shake my head mutely, still not looking athim.

“Nora, this can be pleasurable for you or it can be painful. It’s really up toyou.”

Pleasurable? Is he insane? My entire body is shaking with sobs at this point.

“Nora,” he says again, and I hear the impatience in his voice. “You have exactly five seconds to do what I’m tellingyou.”

He waits, and I can almost hear him counting in his head. I’m counting too, and when I get to four, I get up, tears still streaming down myface.

I’m ashamed of my own cowardice, but I’m so afraid of pain. I don’t want him to hurtme.

I don’t want him to touch me at all, but that is clearly not an option.

“Good girl,” he says softly, touching my face again, brushing my hair back over my shoulders.

I tremble at his touch. I can’t look at him, so I keep my eyesdown.

He apparently objects to that, because he tilts my chin up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze with myown.

His eyes are dark blue in this light. He’s so close to me that I can feel the heat coming off his body. It feels good because I’m cold. Naked andcold.

Suddenly, he reaches for me, bending down. Before I can get really scared, he slides one arm around my back and another under my knees.

Then he lifts me effortlessly in his arms and carries me to thebed.

He puts me down, almost gently, and I curl into a ball, shaking. He starts to undress, and I can’t help watchinghim.

He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and the T-shirt comes off first.

His upper body is a work of art, all broad shoulders, hard muscles, and smooth tan skin. His chest is lightly dusted with dark hair. Under some other circumstances, I would’ve been thrilled to have such a good-looking lover.

Under these circumstances, I just want to scream.

His jeans are next. I can hear the sound of his zipper being lowered, and it galvanizes me into action.

In a second, I go from lying on the bed to scrambling for the door—which he’d leftopen.

I may be small, but I’m fast on my feet. I did track for ten years and was quite good at it. Unfortunately, I hurt my knee during one of the races, and now I’m limited to more leisurely runs and other forms of exercise.

I make it out the door, down the stairs, and I’m almost to the front door when he catchesme.

His arms close around me from behind, and he squeezes me so hard that I can’t breathe for a moment. My arms are completely restrained, so I can’t even fight him. He lifts me, and I kick back at him with my heels. I manage to land a few kicks before he turns me around to facehim.

I’m sure he’s going to hurt me now, and I brace myself for ablow.

Instead, he just pulls me into his embrace and holds me tightly. My face is buried in his chest, and my naked body is pressed against his. I can smell the clean, musky scent of his skin and feel something hard and warm against my stomach.

His erection.

He’s fully naked and turnedon.

With the way he’s holding me, I’m almost completely helpless. I can neither kick nor scratchhim.

But I canbite.

So I sink my teeth into his pectoral muscle and hear him curse before he yanks on my hair, forcing me to release his flesh.

Then he holds me like that, one arm wrapped around my waist, my lower body tightly pressed against him. His other hand is fisted in my hair, holding my head arched back. My hands are pushing at his chest in a futile attempt to put some distance betweenus.

I meet his gaze defiantly, ignoring the tears running down my face. I have no choice but to be brave now. If I die, I want to at least retain some dignity.

His expression is dark and angry, his blue eyes narrowed atme.

I am breathing hard, and my heart is beating so fast I feel like it might jump out of my chest. We look at each other—predator and prey, the conqueror and the conquered—and in that moment, I feel an odd sort of connection to him. Like a part of myself is forever altered by what’s happening betweenus.

Suddenly, his face softens. A smile appears on his sensuouslips.

Then he leans toward me, lowers his head, and presses his mouth tomine.

I am stunned. His lips are gentle, tender as they explore mine, even as he holds me with an irongrip.

He’s a skilled kisser. I’ve kissed quite a few guys, and I’ve never felt anything like this. His breath is warm, flavored with something sweet, and his tongue teases my lips until they part involuntarily, granting him access to my mouth.

I don’t know if it’s the aftereffects of the drug he gave me or the simple relief that he’s not hurting me, but I melt at that kiss. A strange languor spreads through my body, sapping my will to fight.

He kisses me slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world. His tongue strokes against mine, and he lightly sucks on my lower lip, sending a surge of liquid heat straight to my core. His hand eases its grip on my hair and cradles the back of my head instead. It’s almost like he’s making love tome.

I find my hands holding on to his shoulders. I have no idea how they got there, but I’m now clinging to him instead of pushing him away. I don’t understand my own reaction. Why am I not cringing away from his kiss in disgust?

It just feels so good, that incredible mouth of his. It’s like kissing an angel. It makes me forget the situation for a second, enables me to push the terroraway.

He pulls away and looks down on me. His lips are wet and shiny, a little swollen from our kiss. Mine probably aretoo.

He no longer seems angry. Instead, he looks hungry and pleased at the same time. I can see both lust and tenderness on his perfect face, and I can’t tear my eyesaway.

I lick my lips, and his eyes drop down to my mouth for a second. He kisses me again, just a brief brush of his lips againstmine.

Then he picks me up again and carries me upstairs to hisbed.

4

When I look back on this day, my behavior doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand why I didn’t fight him harder, why I consented in this twisted way. It wasn’t a rational decision on my part—it wasn’t a conscious choice to cooperate in order to avoidpain.

No, I am acting purely on instinct.

And my instinct is to submit tohim.

He puts me down on the bed, and I just lie there. I’m too worn out from our earlier struggle, and I still feel woozy from thedrug.

There is something so surreal about what’s happening that my mind can’t process it fully. I feel like I’m watching a play or a movie. It can’t possibly be me in this situation. I can’t be this girl who was drugged and kidnapped, and who is letting her kidnapper touch her, stroke her all over herbody.

We’re lying on our sides, facing each other. I can feel his hands on my skin. They’re slightly rough, callused. Warm on my frozen flesh. Strong, though he’s not using that strength right now. He could subdue me with ease, like he did before, but there is no need. I’m not fighting him. I’m floating in a hazy, sensualfog.

He’s kissing me again, and caressing my arm, my back, my neck, my outer thigh. His touch is gentle, yet firm. It’s almost like he’s giving me a massage, except I can feel the sexual intent in his actions.

He kisses my neck, lightly nibbling on the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder join, and I shiver from the pleasurable sensation.

I close my eyes. It’s disarming, that surprising gentleness of his. I know I should feel violated, but instead, I feel oddly cherished.

With my eyes closed, I pretend that this is just a dream. A dark fantasy, like the kind I sometimes have late at night. It makes it more palatable, the fact that I’m letting this stranger do this tome.

One of his hands is now on my buttocks, kneading the soft flesh. His other hand is traveling up my belly, my rib cage. He reaches my breasts and cups the left one in his palm, squeezes it lightly. My nipples are already hard, and his touch feels good, almost soothing. Rob has done this to me before, but it’s never been like this. It’s never felt likethis.

I continue to keep my eyes shut as he rolls me onto my back. He’s partially on top of me, but most of his weight is resting on the bed. He doesn’t want to crush me, I realize, and I feel grateful.

He kisses my collarbone, my shoulder, my stomach. His mouth is hot, and it leaves a moist trail on myskin.

Then he closes his lips around my right nipple and sucks on it. My body arches, and I feel tension low in my belly. He repeats the action with my other nipple, and the tension inside me grows, intensifies.

He senses it. I know he does because his hand ventures between my thighs and feels the moisture there. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking my folds. “So sweet, so responsive.”

I whimper as his lips travel down my body, his hair tickling my skin. I know what he intends, and my mind blanks out when he reaches his destination.

For a second, I try to resist, but he effortlessly pulls my legs apart. His fingers pat me gently, then pull apart my netherlips.

And then he kisses me there, sending a surge of heat through my body. His skilled mouth licks and nibbles around my clitoris until I’m moaning, and then he closes his lips around it and lightly sucks.

The pleasure is so strong, so startling that my eyes flyopen.

I don’t understand what’s happening to me, and it’s frightening. I’m burning inside, throbbing between my legs. My heart is beating so fast I can’t catch my breath, and I find myself panting.

I start struggling, and he laughs softly. I can feel the puffs of air from his breath on my sensitive flesh. He easily holds me down and continues what he’s doing.

The tension inside me is becoming unbearable. I’m squirming against his tongue, and my motions seem to be bringing me closer to some elusiveedge.

Then I go over with a soft scream. My entire body tightens, and I’m swamped by a wave of pleasure so intense that my toes curl. I can feel my inner muscles pulsing, and I realize that I just had an orgasm.

The first orgasm of mylife.

And it was at the hands—or rather the mouth—of my captor.

I’m so devastated that I just want to curl up and cry. I squeeze my eyes shut again.

But he’s not done with me yet. He crawls up my body and kisses my mouth again. He tastes differently now, salty, with a slightly musky undertone. It’s from me, I realize. I’m tasting myself on his lips. A hot wave of embarrassment rolls through my body even as the hunger inside me intensifies.

His kiss is more carnal than before, rougher. His tongue penetrates my mouth in an obvious imitation of the sexual act, and his hips settle heavily between my legs. One of his hands is holding the back of my head, while another one is between my thighs, lightly rubbing and stimulating me again.

I still don’t really resist, although my body tenses as the fear returns. I can feel the heat and hardness of his erection pushing against my inner thigh, and I know he’s going to hurtme.

“Please,” I whisper, opening my eyes to look at him. My vision is blurred by tears. “Please… I’ve never done this before—”

His nostrils flare, and his eyes gleam brighter. “I’m glad,” he says softly. Lowering his head, he kisses me again before shifting his mouth to my ear. “Now tell me you want me,” he murmurs, his warm breath wafting over my neck before he lifts his head to stare down atme.

Breathing shallowly, I hold his gaze, shaken by the strange compulsion toobey.

“Tell me, Nora,” he repeats, his tone turning darker, more commanding, and to my shock, my mouth forms the words.

“I—I wantyou.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” Then he shifts his hips a little and uses his hand to guide his shaft toward my opening.

I gasp as he begins to push inside. I’m wet, but my body resists the unfamiliar intrusion. I don’t know how big he is, but he feels enormous as the head of his cock slowly enters mybody.

It begins to hurt, to burn, and I cry out, clutching at his shoulders.

His pupils expand, making his eyes look darker. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, and I realize he’s actually restraining himself. “Relax, Nora,” he whispers harshly. “It will hurt less if you relax.”

I’m trembling. I can’t follow his advice because I’m too nervous—and because it hurts so much, having even a little bit of him insideme.

He continues to press, and my flesh slowly gives way, reluctantly stretching for him. I’m writhing now, sobbing, my nails scratching at his back, but he’s relentless, working his cock in inch by slowinch.

Then he pauses for a second, and I can see a vein pulsing near his temple. He looks like he’s in pain. But I know that it’s pleasurable for him, this act that’s hurting me somuch.

He lowers his head, kissing my forehead. And then he pushes past my virginal barrier, tearing through the thin membrane with one firm thrust. He doesn’t stop until his full length is buried inside me, his pubic hair pressing against myown.

I almost black out from the pain. My stomach twists with nausea, and I feel faint. I can’t even scream; all I can do is try to take small, shallow breaths to avoid passing out. I can feel his hardness lodged deep inside me, and it’s the most agonizingly invasive thing I’ve ever experienced.

“Relax,” he murmurs in my ear, “just relax, my pet. The pain will pass, it will get better…”

I don’t believe him. It feels like a heated pole has been shoved inside my body, tearing me open. And I can’t do anything to escape, to make it hurt less. He’s so much larger than me, so much stronger. All I can do is lie there helplessly, pinned underneathhim.

He doesn’t move his hips, doesn’t thrust, even though I can feel the tension in his muscles. Instead, he gently kisses my forehead again. I close my eyes, bitter tears streaming down my temples, and feel the light brush of his lips against my eyelids.

I don’t know how long we stay there like this. He’s raining soft kisses on my face, my neck. His hands embrace me, caress my skin in a parody of a lover’s touch. And all the while, his cock is buried deep inside me, its uncompromising hardness hurting me, burning me from within.

I don’t know at what point the pain starts to change. My treacherous body slowly softens, begins to respond to his kisses, to the tenderness in his touch.

The evil bastard senses it. And he slowly begins to move, partially withdrawing from my body and then working himself backin.

Initially, his movements make it worse, only adding to my agony. And then he reaches between our bodies with one hand, and uses one finger to press against my clit, keeping the pressure light and steady. His thrusts move my hips, causing me to rub against his finger in a rhythmicway.

To my horror, I feel the tension gathering inside me again. The pain is still there, but so is the pleasure. I’m writhing in his arms, but now I’m fighting myself as well. His thrusts get harder, deeper, and I’m screaming from the unbearable intensity. The pain and the pleasure mix, until they’re indistinguishable from one another—until I exist in a world of pure, overwhelming sensation. And then I explode, the orgasm ripping through my body with such force that my vision darkens for a moment.

Suddenly, I can hear him groaning against my ear and feel him getting even thicker and longer inside me. His cock is pulsing and jerking deep within me, and I know that he found his release aswell.

In the aftermath, he rolls off me and gathers me to him, holding me close.

And I cry in his arms, seeking solace from the very person who is the cause of my tears.

Afterwards, my mind is foggy, my thoughts strangely jumbled. He carries me somewhere, and I lie limply in his arms, like a ragdoll.

Now he’s washing me. I’m standing in the shower with him. I’m vaguely surprised that my legs can hold me upright.

I feel numb, detached somehow.

There is blood on my thighs. I can see it mixing with the water, running down the drain. Also, there’s something sticky between my legs. His semen, most likely. He hadn’t used protection.

I might now have an STD. I should be horrified by the thought, but I just feel numb. At least pregnancy isn’t something I have to be concerned about. As soon as I got serious with Rob, my mom insisted on taking me to the doctor to get a birth control implant in my arm. As a nursing assistant at a nonprofit women’s clinic, she saw far too many teenage pregnancies and wanted to make sure the same thing didn’t happen tome.

I’m so grateful to her rightnow.

While I’m pondering all this, Julian washes me thoroughly, shampooing and conditioning my hair. He even shaves my legs and armpits.

Once I’m squeaky clean and smooth, he shuts off the water and guides me out of the shower.

He dries me with a towel first and then himself. Afterwards, he wraps me in a fluffy robe and carries me to the kitchen to feedme.

I eat what he puts in front of me. I don’t even taste it. It’s a sandwich of some kind, but I don’t know what’s in it. He also gives me a glass of water, which I gulp down eagerly.

I vaguely hope that he’s not drugging me, but I don’t really care if he is. I’m so tired I just want to passout.

After I’m done eating and drinking, he leads me back to the bathroom.

“Go ahead, brush your teeth,” he says, and I stare at him. He cares about my oral hygiene?

I do want to brush my teeth, though, so I do as he says. I also use the restroom to pee. He considerately leaves me alone forthat.

Then he takes me back to the room. Somehow the bed now has fresh sheets on it, with no traces of blood anywhere. I’m thankful forthat.

He kisses me lightly on the lips, leaves the room, and locks thedoor.

I’m so exhausted that I walk over to the bed, lie down, and instantly fall asleep.

5

When I wake up, my mind is completely clear. I remember everything, and I want to scream.

I jump out of bed, noticing that I’m still wearing the robe from last night. The sudden movement makes me aware of a deep inner soreness, and my lower body tightens at the memory of how I got to be that sore. I can still feel his fullness inside me, and I shudder at the recollection.

I am sickened and disgusted with myself. What is wrong with me? How could I have let Julian have sex with me and told him that I want him? How could I have consented and found pleasure in his embrace?

Yes, he’s good-looking, but that’s no excuse. He’s evil. I know it. I sensed it from the very beginning. His outer beauty hides a darkness inside.

I have a feeling he’s only begun to reveal his true nature tome.

Yesterday I had been too frightened, too traumatized to pay attention to my surroundings. I’m feeling much better today, so I carefully study thisroom.

There is a window. It’s covered by thick ivory shades, but I can still see a little sunlight peeking through.

I rush to it, pulling open the shades, and blink at the sudden bright light. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, and then I look outside.

The bottom drops out of my stomach.

The window is not hermetically sealed or anything like that. In fact, it looks like I could easily open it and climb out. This room is on the second floor, so I could maybe even make it to the ground without breaking anything.

No, the window is not the problem.

It’s the view outside.

I can see palm trees and a white sandy beach. Beyond it, there is a large body of water, blue and shimmering in the brightsun.

It’s beautiful and tropical.

And about as different as possible from my little town in the Midwest.

I’m cold again. So cold that I’m shivering. I know it’s from stress because the temperature must be somewhere in the eighties.

I’m pacing up and down the room, occasionally pausing to look out the window.

Every time I look, it’s like a punch to the stomach.

I don’t know what I’d been hoping. I honestly hadn’t had a chance to think about my location. I’d just sort of assumed that he would keep me somewhere in the area, maybe near Chicago where we’d first met. I’d thought that all I had to do in order to escape is find a way out of this house.

Now I realize it’s far more complicated thanthat.

I try the door again. It’s locked.

A few minutes ago, I had discovered a small bathroom attached to this room. I used it to take care of my basic needs and to brush my teeth. It had been a nice distraction.

Now I’m pacing like a caged animal, growing more terrified and angry with every minute that passes.

Finally, the door opens, and a woman comes inside.

I’m so shocked that I simply stare. She’s fairly young—maybe in her early thirties—and pretty.

She’s holding a tray of food and smiling at me. Her hair is red and curly, and her eyes are a soft brown color. She’s bigger than me, probably at least five inches taller, with an athletic build. She’s dressed very casually, in a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top, with flip-flops on herfeet.

I think about attacking her. She’s a woman, and I have a small chance of winning against her in a fight. I have no chance against Julian.

Her smile widens, as though she’s reading my mind. “Please don’t jump me,” she says, and I can hear the amusement in her voice. “It’s quite pointless, I promise. I know you want to escape, but there is really nowhere to go. We’re on a private island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”

The sinking feeling in my stomach worsens. “Whose private island?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Why, Julian’s, of course.”

“Who is he? Who are you people?” My voice is relatively steady as I speak to her. She doesn’t make me nervous the way Juliandoes.

She puts down the tray. “You’ll learn everything in due time. I’m here to take care of you and the property. My name is Beth, by theway.”

I take a deep breath. “Why am I here, Beth?”

“You’re here because Julian wantsyou.”

“And you don’t see anything wrong with that?” I can hear the hysterical edge in my tone. I don’t understand how this woman is going along with that madman, how she’s acting like this is normal.

She shrugs. “Julian does whatever he wants. It’s not for me to judge