Page 29 of Suspicion

Ella

“No!” Trembling with rage, Ella pulled harder at the ropes.

How could this be happening? How had she fallen asleep in her own bed and wound up in this nightmare?

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me!”

She punctuated each word, concluding the order by doing something she would never have normally done, but Tucker had gone too far—he deserved the disrespect. Drawing her head away from the fiend, she pitched forward and spat at him. The brute was too tall for her spittle to reach its intended target, of course, but watching it land in the crook of his neck and begin its descent swelled well-needed satisfaction within her.

Yes. She straightened despite the cold. That’s what you get when you cross me, you fucker!

“Silly, girl.” Wiping her drool from his Adam’s apple with one hand, he bared his teeth as his glare darkened. In a split second, Ella’s emotions careened from euphoria to fear.

Oh, shit! Her heart sped up as he flicked her spittle into the hay, the organ pounding even faster than it did when he’d tipped the contents of the cup over her in the first place. What had she done by provoking the beast? She’d never seen anyone as angry as he looked as he fixed his glower on her.

“I’m sorry.”

The words rushed from her mouth in an instant, even though it should have been humiliating to apologize, and she didn’t even vaguely mean the sentiment. She could tell she’d made a serious error in judgment in allowing her fury to control her behavior. It wasn’t that her actions were unwarranted—the asshole deserved everything she could deliver—but while she was in such a vulnerable position, she’d been a fool to poke the bear.

“You’re sorry?” He balked, his jaw stiffening as though he was working hard not to tear her head from her shoulders.

“Yes, I…” Hesitating, she grappled for the right words. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Only to spit at me?” His chin rose, his features once again eerily lit by the oil lamp on the floor between them.

“Look what you did!” She nodded to her chest, drawing both of their attention to her silky bra. She regretted the gesture immediately. At least his anger seemed to have dampened his lust, but now she’d highlighted his accomplishments as though soaking and half-stripping her were somehow achievements.

“You’re lovely.” The familiar glint of desire shone in his blue eyes as he shook his head. “But even those tits can’t make me forget what you’ve done.”

What I’ve done? She might have laughed had she not been so petrified about what came next. She’d questioned Tucker’s sanity before that moment, but staring at him, she could only conclude he was mad. How could anything she’d done compare to what had been done to her?

“I said I was sorry.” She was so damn cold, the frigid forest air and the water he’d thrown over her only heightening her chill.

“Hmmm.” He glanced behind her. “Shame I don’t believe you.”

“What are you going to do?”

Suddenly, she had to know. Enough of wondering and worrying. The trepidation of what was to come was doing nothing to quell her hammering heart. Whatever his answer, she might as well know the score.

“Now?” His focus flew back to her.

“Yes, now.”

Her voice lacked conviction that time, but it was too late to change her mind. Resolve gleamed in his gaze, conveying that whatever her view, his mind about what happened next was made up.

“Enjoy you.” There wasn’t a flicker of remorse in his matter-of-fact tone as he closed the distance between them. “You’re here, and you’re mine, so I might as well make the most of you.”

“What?” she demanded. “What does that mean?”

If there was an emotion beyond terror, that was where Ella was thrust now. Captured by the prospect of unknown torment every bit as much as the coarse strands of the ropes, she had no choice but to wait on his verdict.

“It means I’ve heard enough from you.” Crouching down to the small pile of items he’d brought back with him, Tucker grabbed something from behind the oil lamp.

Her gaze searched his palm as he lifted it toward her, unable to make out anything save for what appeared to be the two ends of a black strap, one with a buckle attached.

“What are you doing?” Fleetingly, she searched his face before her attention darted to his palm again. Whatever it was, the item was fast approaching. “What is that?”

“A gift.” His tone was sardonic as he started a circuit around her body. “Something else for you to think about.”

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