Page 36 of Their Stolen Obsession
The instant I caught the aroma, I wanted to rip this bag off my head, but my hands were bound behind my back. Nothing like riding in the back of a car, unable to see where I was while on the way to my worst nightmare with the smell of one food I hated most in this world. Talk about bad luck.
The Bravata deal was about to go down, and I’d be stuck right in the middle of it.
There were bumps in the road as the noisy car drove, and I wanted to be anywhereother than here. Stuck in the backseat with an asshole who had fish breath with his hand resting on my thigh. His touch was unwanted, but I had nowhere to go.
I could barely see out of the burlap sack as I fidgeted in the back seat. “Quit squirming, whore.”
“Fuck you,” I spat, my breath hot against my face.
The makeup Knoxlee had done wouldn’t be pretty by the time we arrived. The smokey eyeshadow would smudge because of being smothered inside a hot potato sack, and my hair would be a mess after this stupid thing came off. But the outfit she had picked for me before I had left the Pitrone hellhole would hold up fine. If this scumbag beside me decided to follow orders and not rip the black sweater dress off.
Zane had stood guard while I got dressed after the warm shower he let me have, and he kept his back turned as he had promised. Asshole was a freaking gentleman when he wanted to be, and I didn’t get him. He has had every opportunity to abuse his power and violate me, but he never did, which made the answer simple.
Zane was into men.
Zane swinging the other way would explain much about him and the mystery I always had when he was around. But his sexual orientation still doesn’tanswer a huge question that lingered between us.Where did he get his scar?
Suddenly, the vehicle came to an abrupt halt and threw me up against Mr. Fish Breath. The displeasing friction against him made me cringe, and I immediately pushed off him. Roughly, the bastard pulled me back into his orbit, and I wanted to turn around and bite him to teach him a valuable lesson. But I couldn’t do anything with this damn sack over my head.
I wanted to scream but resorted to a kick of my high heel hitting the bottom of the backseat. Goddamn it! That was supposed to be his leg.
“Woah, baby! Stop coming on strong,” Mr. Fish Breath whispered in my ear.
“Let go of me, asshole,” I hissed with disgust. “Fuck off.”
I thrashed against his hold, his arm locked tightly around my shoulder, and he grabbed my tit. Unable to stop him, he pinched my nipple, and I cursed at him. My slouched posture and position in his armpit revealed his greater size. His broad shoulder trapped the back of my head.
“Oh, but the fun is only getting started, baby,” he whispered.
I wanted to throw up; the bile collected in my throat and formed a large lump, but I had to swallowit back down. I had to win the fight against my fear because I wasn’t about to puke into a rotten old potato sack. I wouldn’t puke and have my last meal end up all over my face. Instead, I focused on fighting against him in whatever way I could. I turned my head and bit at his skin, but the stupid burlap only made a barrier, causing him to laugh at me.
Without warning, he forced his hand between my legs. I snapped them shut, trying to fight him off, but he wouldn’t stop. The tender skin of my thighs rubbed against a coarse material and his fingers were against my clit.
Aggressively, he rubbed against my most sensitive spot and I screamed, “No! Stop it!”
“Would you shut her up already?” someone hollered from the front seat.
My pleas for him to stop did nothing and begging turned into a desperate cry for help. Every instinct within me fought as he groaned with frustration at my determination not to let him have me.
“Feisty whore, sit still.” He breathed heavily, irritated.
“Fuck you!” I yelled, twisting to get away from him.
Adrenaline seared through me. A curse came in the near distance and the sound of a car door opening caught my interest. Light blinded me as the burlapsack lifted off my head, and I could breathe properly again. Quickly, I blinked to adjust my vision and came face-to-face with my attacker.
I headbutted Mr. Fishy Breath as hard as I could, full of passion. My defense mechanism was powerful, everything spun, but I wouldn’t black out. Those dots dancing before my eyes couldn’t make me because I had to save myself. I couldn’t survive another violation.
Instead, I reacted and jumped out of the car. “Hey!” someone yelled at me, but my legs kept moving, unable to stop.
A rough hand grabbed my arm and pulled me up against a firm body. I thrashed, screamed, and even resorted to my legs going limp when nothing else worked. My dead body weight should’ve dropped to the dirt below me, but the jerk held me up.
“What the fuck?” he hissed with annoyance. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The man who I butted heads with exited the car. “Bitch!”
Mr. Fish Breath slapped me across my face. Pain bit at my cheek and brought on a sudden headache. Tears burned my eyes, but none fell.
“You idiot.” The man who held me cursed and pulled me backward. “Hands off the goods, goddamn it.”
