Page 36 of Addiction

“I don’t know about full.” He chuckled as he guided her back to the hallway and into the kitchen. “But there should be something here for us to devour.”

“Apart from me?” She giggled as they entered the kitchen.

“Yes.” He tugged her closer and kissed her cheek. “I fucking love devouring you, but I think we need food as well.”

He left her by a stool at the kitchen island and walked to the fridge. A limited array of food had been left by his staff, which was understandable given that he hadn’t had a chance to let anyone know that he was intending to stay. His gaze scanned the jars of preserves and the loaf of bread, pausing at the pot of fresh soup. He checked the label, discovering it was carrot and coriander flavored, and was pleased to see there was still a week left until the soup spoiled. Reaching for the pot, he eyed the product thoughtfully. The last meal he’d given her had also been a soup, but in the short term, it was still the best he had to offer.

“There’s not much choice.” He peered over his shoulder to find her perched on the edge of one of the stools. Her pained expression suggested that sitting on the hard surface was taxing after her most recent punishment. The thought buoyed him more than was probably right, but he pushed it from his mind, resolved to feed them before their next round of pleasure. “Just more soup, I’m afraid, and this one isn’t even homemade.”

“It’s okay, sir.” She smiled despite her evident discomfort. “Soup is good. What kind is it?”

“Not rabbit.” He smirked at her stifled laughter.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she replied. “Can I help?”

“No, you sit,” he commanded, knowing his instruction would likely cause more agony than her offer to help would. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“Thanks.” She winced as she shuffled back on the stool, watching him as he found two bowls and set to work on heating the soup.

“Can we talk about me calling my mum now, sir?” Her tentative tone drew his focus temporarily from the food.

“We can talk,” he replied, promising her nothing more than that.

Naturally, he understood her desire to allay her mother’s concerns, but that didn’t mean he intended to make the task easy for her. Having Ella around was a constant source of desire and diversion. He was sure he could make her latest request part of the package, and as he spooned the soup into the bowls, he contemplated how he would employ her need into his devilish plan.

“I think it’s only fair that I call her,” she went on, evidently unsure of how to manage his response. “Now that I’m out of the woods and back to civilization. She’ll be worried sick, sir.”

“I’m sure.” Tucker didn’t have any children, but he wasn’t entirely made of stone and could understand the anxiety that losing touch with Ella must have caused her mother. Even though her daughter was an adult, he was sure Ella wasn’t overstating the situation. “I understand, little girl, and you can call her once you’ve done something for me.”

“Something?” The word echoed around the vast kitchen as he transferred the first bowl to the brand-new microwave. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know yet.” He met the trepidation in her gaze, his imagination already going wild with the possibilities. Not only did he have a gorgeous woman in his possession, but at the rate they were falling for each other, he could probably persuade her to do just about anything with the right impetus. “But don’t worry, little girl. I’ll think of something.”

Chapter Fifteen

The Penthouse Prison

Ella

Swallowing another mouthful of her hot and tasty soup, her concentration burned into the man sitting across the island from her. Tucker ripped his slice of granary bread in half, his gaze rising as he offered one section to her.

“You need carbohydrates.” His hard tone told her it wasn’t a request, so she accepted the bread without protest.

“Thank you, sir.”

Dipping the bread into her soup, she tried not to dwell on his earlier words about doing ‘something for him’ in return for speaking to her mother, although the fluttering butterflies in her tummy clearly hadn’t forgotten. Hell, she feared the warning would be seared into her psyche for all time.

When men like Tucker Bowman threw comments like that around, there were reasons to be concerned, and even though she had started to trust that he wouldn’t do her any harm, she couldn’t suppress the nervous energy knotting inside her.

“How’s the soup?” He gestured to her half-empty bowl.

“Lovely.” Ella smiled, meaning every word. She’d been hungrier than she realized, and homemade or not, the meal was hitting the spot. “Thanks for looking after me.”

Her voice trailed away, and inwardly, she hoped he’d registered where her sentence had finished and detected her apprehension. He hadn’t promised the deed he wanted would be anything she’d enjoy, and she already knew Tucker too well to be reassured.

The new and significantly plusher surroundings of his city home were a welcome respite from life in the cabin, but Ella was fundamentally still his captive, even if the only ropes tying her to him now were the emotional ones tugging at her heart. She didn’t think she had the strength to walk away from a connection as scintillating as the one they shared, and if she did, what would that mean? Secretly, her fear of never finding a man who affected her the same way as Tucker terrified her more than anything he might demand in his penthouse.

“I always will.” His blue eyes gleamed with the promise. “I told you that.”

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