Page 7 of Burn

“No?” He canted his head and there was something unsettling about being under the focus of his attention. It was like he stared right through me, all the way down to my bones.

“No,” I said. I licked my lips not that there was an ounce of spit in my mouth. “I smell. I’m sweaty. I feel kind of disgusting after—” I had no idea what the other man’s name was. “Well, after he touched me.”

My captor nodded slowly.

“I don’t suppose I can have a shower?” Maybe he’d be sympathetic. He seemed that way. Or maybe that was just his pure possessiveness. Men like him did not share. They took what they wanted and to hell with everyone else.

“What would you give me for a shower, pet?” He spread his fingers and combed them through my hair. There were snarls here and there. Instead of just tearing through them, he was slow and methodical.

I licked my lips again and his gaze dipped, his attention shifting my eyes to my mouth. He wanted to fuck me.

Men.

So predictable.

My heart pounded a little harder. Adrenaline dumped into my system. Fear was a powerful motivator. So was surviving. I’dfucked men before to get what I wanted. Scratch their balls and they’d scratch my back.

“I have wondered what it would feel like to fuck this sweet body. You are smaller than I thought you would be.” Well, that was direct.

“I’d be happy to show you,” I said, letting that hang there in the air between us.

His nostrils flared and his pupil dilated a fraction. Arousal was swift, because he was already turned on.

“After I shower,” I added slowly. “With your permission, of course.”

Lips pursed, he inspected me. “Take your clothes off here. I wish to see all of you.”

He released my hair and took a step back. It was a test.

Of course it was a test.

I was basically offering myself to him and he wanted me to prove it.

Moving to a chair, he took a seat and studied me.

“Now.” The single syllable snapped out of him, the demand unmistakeable.

I reached for the hem of my t-shirt. The casual clothes tickled a memory in the back of my head, but I left it alone for now. It was just a body. I’d been nude on plenty of shoots with far more people around than just one man.

Whether I did it for money or art or survival, it was just a body. I didn’t bother making a production number out of it. The cool air against my damp skin was welcome.

The bra, jeans, and panties followed in rapid succession. I had no shoes or socks on. No jewelry either.

Once I was naked, he steepled his hands together and studied me. I debated whether he wanted me to pose.

“Turn around.”

No comment. I pivoted in a slow, deliberate circle. The moment my back was fully to him, I braced for him just grabbing me and getting to business. Nothing happened, however, and my heart slammed against my ribs like it was determined to crack them.

Once I faced him again, he nodded.

“You may shower. There is a hair dryer in there, make sure your hair is dry when you come back, I want to feel it on my skin and in my hands when I take you.”

The words “thank you” seemed glued to my tongue, but I managed to squeeze them out. His nod was magnanimous. The shower was fully stocked and the water was warm.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of weapons and there was also no way to close the door. Awareness of him observing me the whole time didn’t go away, either. I made quick work of the shower, and washing my hair, rinsing away the sour odors of fear and pain.

Once I was done, I toweled off, then hooked up the hair dryer. It would take a minute. He had no product here for me, so whatever I ended up with was going to probably frizz.

---