Page 5 of My Three Enemies
“What about my clothes?” I ask, acutely aware of the fact that he did not throw me a pair of pants to go with it.
“Those filthy things? I'll take care of those later. They're not touching my sheets again.”
Gray takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side of the bed, revealing exactly what I expected. He looks like he was made out of stone, carved by some Italian Renaissance artist. His muscles flex as he leans down and pulls the comforter to the side.
“Get dressed, and get in bed,” he commands before walking to the other side and unbuttoning his jeans.
“Why do you want me to get in bed with you?” My voice shakes a lot more than I want it to.
“Because I've hardly slept in two days, and I'm not going to have you delay that any longer,” Gray says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Look, we need to figure out what to do with you. I can't do that unless I've had some rest. Now would you get your little butt in bed and go to sleep with me for a few hours?”
I lift the shirt over my head, hoping to slip it on before the towel falls to the ground, unsuccessfully. Gray gets one last look at my naked body as the towel pools around my ankles and I fit my arms through the sleeves of the oversized shirt.
He watches me with his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his lips as I climb into bed, pulling the covers to hide my bare legs from him. I watch him nervously as he lowers his pants, revealing a pair of tight briefs that hug his waist. The bulge at the front of them makes me swallow and my body responds in a way that I do not appreciate.
“Go to sleep, Blondie.”
I lean back thinking I'm going to have a restless night next to this strange man. But when my head hits the pillow, my eyes begin to feel heavy and I drift off in no time.
4
When I finally wake up thenext day, I almost completely forget where I am—even who I am, for that matter. It was perhaps the best sleep I've ever had in my life. My sore limbs feel much more manageable and the aches from the night before have abated.
As I sit up, the memory of the three men comes back to me and I cautiously look to my right to find nobody sleeping in the bed with me. Where could Gray have gone?
The alarm clock on his side of the bed tells me it's past 11:00 a.m. and my eyes widen from the shock of sleeping so late. Never in my life haven't been allowed to sleep past 7:00 a.m. Even in a room where I had nothing to do but read, watch the same DVDs over and over, or sleep, I was forced to stay awake with the sun. My father always said it was a bad habit to sleep the day away. One he didn't want me to develop, but really, it was just another way for him to control me. My food, clothes, exposure to the outside world, and even my sleep were his to manage. I had no agency in my own life whatsoever.
I might be held captive by the brothers in this cabin, but they've already shown me more freedom than I've known for a long time.
Regardless of that fact, I have to leave. Moving from one prison to another wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I escaped the guards. I have to find a way to get away from these guys, and quickly.
I hop out of the bed and tiptoe into the bathroom, looking for my clothes. At the very least, I need pants. But of course, they're nowhere to be found.
I roll my eyes and shake my head in annoyance at Gray. He said he would take care of them, so I imagine they must be in the laundry. At least that's my hope.
I open the door to the room as quietly as I can and tiptoe from the hallway to the kitchen, pushing the bottom of the shirt down to cover more of my thighs. I don't see any of the men as I walk through the cabin, so I assume they must be out and about. Doing what? God only knows. I'm hoping I can somehow sneak out of the cabin before I ever have to find out.
A small closet in the kitchen catches my eye as potentially being sizable enough for a washer and dryer, so I step toward it and peek inside. Unfortunately for me, it just appears to be some kind of storage closet for various junk, cases of water, and cleaning supplies.
“What are you doing?” a voice says just as I close the door, making me jump and back away.
Dax stands in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, hanging low on his hips. Of course, he's just as muscular as Gray, if not more so. He seems to be thebiggest of the three of them, and definitely the most imposing. The way he looks at me is undeniable though. I don't know if he would hurt me per se, but the look in his eyes tells me he definitely wantssomethingfrom me.
“Oh, I was just looking for my clothes.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. His eyes drop to my exposed thighs and I immediately pull at the hem of the shirt to try to cover them.
“Thirsty?” he asks, nodding to the sink while shoving his hands in his pockets.
I slowly make my way over to the counter and face the sink, freezing as I look up at the cabinets. “Where are the cups?”
Dax moves toward the cabinets behind me and I start to step aside before he pins me against the counter. My breath hitches in my throat as I feel his body pressed against me. He reaches above me and opens a cabinet door, handing me a clear plastic cup. I happily accept it, thinking he's going to back away, but he doesn't.
I look over my shoulder at him as I feel his cock stiffening in his sweatpants against my back. My body shakes and I try to restrain my breathing as my chest heaves. I'm completely surrounded by him as he presses his hands on the counter in front of me. For some reason, all I can focus on is how incredible he smells. Like smoke from a fireplace and moss.
Push him away. Run.
No matter how much the thought echoes in my brain, I can't do it. Something about him is pulling me in and I find my back arching closer to him. Just that small movement is all he needs to slide his hands closer, tracing his fingers over the soft skin of my thighs.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Dax whispers, pushing his hands under the shirt and squeezing my thighs.
