Page 3 of His Captive Pet

“Fuck you.” She waved a hand and started to move toward the fighting again. She didn’t know where she was going, or why she wanted to see the fight. Maybe because she’d never seen one up close before. Although, as it turned out, seeing a tooth fly out of a grown man’s mouth wasn’t the thrill she had been looking for.

“Dammit!” His growl was heard only a moment before she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Her stomach lurched when it hit a broad shoulder, and the room swirled around her. Once she realized she was hanging upside down over his shoulders, she began to pound on his back. All the good it did, her small fists made no sound or difference against his hard muscles.

“Stop it!” He annunciated his command with a hard slap to her ass. Her spine stiffened, and her eyes widened at the touch.

She heard a door slam, and the loud yelling of the fight outside quieted. Her captor dipped down and deposited her on her feet, but kept his hands on her arms, trying to steady her. His hands were huge, nearly wrapping all the way around her upper arms. She glanced down at his grip then moved up his arm to his face. She’d never been so close to him before.

A dark, short beard covered his chin and face, but his eyes—they were almost too dark to be blue. His glare made her want to bow her head, but instead she moved to check out the rest of him. His short black hair looked disheveled, as though he’d just been in a bar fight. She giggled at her own joke.

“Are you okay?” He moved his hand to her chin, lifting it to get a better look.

“I’m fine.” She shoved his hand away. “Why did you steal me?” she demanded.

His hands fell away from her, and she tried to shove her hands into her jean pockets. But she couldn’t find them.

“Steal you?” He sounded almost amused. But his eyes continued to glare down at her.

“You’re too big to stand so close.” Giving up on her pockets, she gave his chest a shove.

He didn’t move.

“Maybe you should sit down.” He reached behind her and turned the chair around so she could sit. She poked his chest with one finger then two. “Sit, Aubree.” He gently grasped her arms and pushed her into the seat.

“You’re made of stone,” she declared. Her muddled thoughts made looking up at him harder, so she stood back up.

“I’m going to go back out there and be sure it’s settled down. You stay here.” He stopped to turn back to her before he shut the door. “Stay here, Aubree. I mean it. Don’t move.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Whatever.” She waved a hand in the air and took a deep breath. If the room would take a break from spinning she could figure out what the hell was going on. “Oh! A couch!” She managed her way to the black leather couch nestled in the corner of the room and laid her head down, enjoying the cool touch of the seat. She just needed to get a grip on her swirling head then she’d go find out why he stole her.

Chapter Two

Blake Tanner leaned against the jukebox, surveying the damage. It had taken his two bouncers as well as his brother, Greg, to get the college brats under control and out of the place. Unfortunately, not before they’d managed to destroy several chairs, a few tables, and break a case of beer.

“Could be worse,” Greg pointed out as he scooped up the last pile of broken glass from the floor.

“It can always be worse.” Blake nodded. Too many years in the Marines with three deployments had taught him well. And if he hadn’t committed the lesson to memory, having to come home to bury his parents and take care of his little brother had sealed it for him. No matter how shitty something seemed, another level of misery waited somewhere.

“Where’s Aubree?” Greg kept his gaze down, but Blake knew his brother. He had it bad for the redheaded hellcat sleeping comfortably on his couch. He couldn’t blame Greg. Her rounded curves and soft features would capture any man’s libido, and often did. But Blake had seen her chew up and toss out every man that had come near her, so had Greg. The woman had thorns. Blake had no doubt she’d gnaw on Greg for a bit and spit him out like the rest. Greg had a good heart, but was too soft a touch for a woman like Aubree. She needed a firmer hand, a stricter sense of rule.

She’d had a shit show of a day. He didn’t work the bar often, but managed to find a reason to get some work done outside his office when she came in for her nightcap. She was a regular, but not like the rest of them. Never ordering anything stronger than a Coke with a lime twist, he recognized she hadn’t come to drown out her day with liquor. It was the noise, the people she needed to push her demons away.

If he could get a minute alone with her father, he’d gladly spend time behind bars for what he’d do to that asshole. Aubree didn’t like to talk about him, but she talked about her mother plenty. Enough for Blake and Greg to put together what a house of horrors she grew up in. Never knowing if Daddy was going to come home drunk or sober, angry or melancholy. He hadn’t raised a hand to her, only her mother. While Blake had his suspicions her mother had shielded Aubree the only way she thought she could, Aubree saw it differently. Aubree took all the blame on her shoulders.

“She’s sleeping it off on the couch.” Blake nodded toward his office and pushed off the jukebox. He didn’t say anything else to his brother before he went into his office, and Greg wouldn’t follow.

Blake sat at his desk, staring over at the gentle woman sleeping. Her face relaxed, soft. No worry-creased brow, and her lips weren’t scrunched up in a pout or scowl. Her lips. He allowed himself a moment to think about what it would be like to kiss them. Would they be soft and warm, or would they be demanding and hard against his? Would she give in beneath his ministrations, or would she fight for control?

From what he’d witnessed, she might fight for it, but in the end, she would concede. She didn’t want to dominate her relationships, but that didn’t mean she would give over easily. And fuck. He hoped she wouldn’t.

She had left her hair down for once, forgoing her usual bun or tight braid. A few errant strands covered her forehead as she slept. She had tucked her hands between her knees when she’d curled up on his couch. He remembered the feel of her firm ass beneath his hand when he’d delivered the one slap. She’d been surprised, but she hadn’t fought harder because of it. She’d reacted exactly as he’d hoped, she’d calmed. But he couldn’t tell if it had been the several drinks she’d consumed that had loosened her inhibitions, or if it had been her inner self coming to the surface.

Her eyes fluttered open with a low groan as she woke from her nap. She’d been asleep for hours, and he’d been watching her for the last half. Aubree slid her hands from her knees and grabbed her head, sitting upright on the couch and looking around. There was a loud gasp when her eyes finally settled on him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, standing from his chair. He grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge he kept in his office and offered it to her. “Here, you’ll need to rehydrate.”

“Where the hell am I?” She took the bottle from his hand, starting to drink it before he answered.

“My office,” he answered. “You’re welcome for the water, by the way.” He pulled the chair from his desk closer to her and sat down. Other than needing a few more hours of solid sleep, she looked well enough.

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