Page 49 of Unorthodox
“He told me some things about you, Addison, and I’m not sure I like them.”
I try to take a step back, but his grip tightens on my hips as his eyes land on mine. “Don’t,” he warns me, shaking his head.
“W-what did he say?” The box is bursting again. Cade. Danik. The floor.My father.But he wouldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t dare reveal his own sins against his daughter like that, would he?
Max’s hands slip beneath the top of my sweats, his calloused fingers on my bare skin. His touch is warm, but I feel suddenly so fucking cold as he massages my hips. “Do you want to know, baby girl, or do you want me to make you forget why you were puking in that bathroom?”
No.
I don’t want that.
I don’t want that.
Who seeks solace with their demons?
Who craves a gentle touch from the same hands that hurt them?
I don’t speak.
“It’s okay to want it, you know that, don’t you?” Max teases me, sliding his hands further down my hips, my sweats moving with him. If he goes down just another inch, they’ll fall to the floor.
They’ll fall and Max will make me hate myself all over again.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he continues, trailing his gaze down my body. I’m nearly shivering in his arms, but the sudden cold is slowly getting replaced with liquid heat. He slides his hands further, and the pants fall in a heap at my ankles.
He takes in my plain, black cotton underwear, then his gaze travels down my legs. “Step out of them for me.”
I don’t move.
I can’t give in.
He pulls me between his thighs, gripping me harder as he yanks me toward him. “I’ll make this good for you if you stop fighting me, Addison.”
But if I don’t…The threat is there.
“If you’d like, I can drug you again. Chain you up. But I’d much rather you lose yourself inthistonight.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. Then I step out of my pants, and he kicks them to the side, pulls me closer as he shifts back on the bed a little.
“If at any point youreallywant me to stop, Addison, tell me. I can punish you in a different way.” His hands move up to my waist, yanking me toward him, so his mouth is just inches away from my breasts, still covered with my shirt. “Otherwise, be a good fucking girl and enjoy it.”
I take her shirt off,and I’m pleasantly surprised to find she doesn’t have a bra on. Her tits are exposed, pink nipples pebbled into points. I see the scars from her surgery. Scars I’ve already taken pictures of, even though she doesn’t know it.
I sent them to her buyer down in Texas to confirm he still wanted her, knowing if he didn’t, I’d find a way totakewhat he’s offering me.
But he did. I don’t blame him. Scars build character.
And just like that slight gap between her two front teeth, her imperfections make her that much more irresistible.
Her torso, like the rest of her, is long and lean.
Glancing at the scars under her breasts again, I replay her father’s words in my head, and I wonder if the man is glad to be rid of her. I wonder what he’s done to her.
She must have caused him a lot of fucking trouble.
Even right now, she should be screaming. After I made her clean up the mess she made, she should be fighting me. She should be running, and I should have to tie her up to get this close to her.
But she’s doing none of those things.
