Page 25 of Filthy and Dirty with my Captors

“Three hundred grand. The fuckin’ sheriff won.” My chest tightens at the thought of another man taking her, touching her, appreciating her.

“The sheriff? Wolfie?” Her eyes narrow.

“Wolfie?You know him?”

“It’s a stupid name my friend Jen and I came up with for him, because of all his hair and his size. What’s his username?”

He isn’t that fucking big, but I bite back that comment in favor of the question she’s asked. “Cowboy something.”

“Cowboy78,” she says under her breath. “I’m not surprised he won. He requested so many videos. He even paid extra for some of me showering and other things I probably shouldn’t have sent him. Weird. If I’d have known it as the sheriff, I’m not sure I’d have sent anything.” Her shoulders rise and fall as she exhales. “I guess that’s the point.”

I’m not the person to be having this conversation with her. I hate hearing about how free she is online with other men, and I want to murder the sheriff now more than ever.

“How do you know this cowboy guy is the sheriff, though? All names are private.” Her brows narrow as a gentle breeze twists the weathervane on top of the coop.

“He noted the address he wanted to meet at in the notes section of the payment. It’s a hunting cabin north of here. His family owns the place. I’ve been up there a few times. The dude is a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Well, they’re all weirdos. That’s why they’re on that website, but this is good.” She smiles, naïve as ever. “I mean, I see Wolfie all over town. He’s the safest bet. I can get in, do my thing, and get out.”

I cross my arms over my chest and laugh. “Yeah, you’re not going.”

“What?” She grins. “Yes, I am. I think you guys are great, I really do, but three hundred grand could change everyone’s life.”

“Don’t make this about us. I don’t need a damn thing from your whore money.”

She rolls her eyes and steps closer as though she’s trying to intimidate me. “Whore money? Really?Who hurt you? Why are you like this?”

I narrow my brows and groan under my breath. “Like what?Honest?You’re selling sex. I’m pretty sure that falls somewhere into whore territory.”

“No, I’m serious.” Her brows narrow and she pulls her hood up on her head. “You walk around like you’ve got a thorn up your ass, you get all possessive over me, but you don’t want me close to you, and you’re calling me a whore when I know what you’re really desperate for is a hug. So, what’s your problem? Why are you like this? Just ask me for a hug.”

“Jesus,” I groan throwing a bucket of feed into the coop, “I don’t need to talk about my fuckin’ feelings, and I don’t need a hug.”

“Clearly, you do.” Her pretty pink lips purse, reiterating what a feisty little firecracker she is. I could see this as another reason to stay away. We’d spend our days locked in combat over every damn thing. I can see it already. That said, I’m not sure why my dick is hard, though.

I shake my head and grip her arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“Back to your room,” I bark, dragging her toward the house as respectfully as one can drag someone.

“No! What are you doing? Stop!” She pulls and tugs, yelling for help as I swing open the back door and step into the warmth of the farmhouse.

“Keep it up,” I groan, turning the corner into the hallway before stepping into the bedroom. I press her up against the wall by the head of the bed and stare at her, seething. Angry that she’s told me she likes me, angry that we’re talking about emotions, angry that she still wants to sell her virginity, angry that it’s the sheriff who won, angry that she was on her knees for Owen and Hawk and I wasn’t there, angry that she’s pissing me off, angry that she’ll never really be mine.

Fuck!

She stares at me, her gaze soft and frightened. I didn’t mean to scare her. I never want her to be scared of anything.

God damn it! I have no clue what I’m doing!

“You want me, don’t you?” Her bottom lip quivers as she speaks, and her breasts rise and fall slowly.

Fuck!

I unzip the jacket and push it to the ground, revealing the old T-shirt of mine she’s been wearing. A Metallica tour tee from the nineties. I think that might have been the last time I attended a public event. Her nipples are hard, her hips are curved, and her chest rises and falls quickly.

Fuck. Every bit of reserve I had left is gone. I need her. I need her right fucking now.

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