Page 30 of Bone's Destiny

“Prez, it’sTacoTuesday, notNachoTuesday. You’re messing with the whole vibe. Thought you liked the barbacoa street tacos.”

“I do. The nachos are for Destiny.”

A grin stretched across Espada’s stupid face. “Aww.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I gave him the bird and left the kitchen.

I should’ve known the second I mentioned Destiny, assumptions would be made. I’d never been enthralled by a woman before, and after only three days, I wasn’t sure what to make of the feelings wreaking havoc inside me.

I ought to do as Cobra suggested and jerk off before taking Destiny her nachos. I couldn’t help but smile as I went into my bedroom and straight to the bathroom. Nachos would make her happy, right? She’d shut down and ignored me since our staring contests her first day at the compound. I knew I pissed her off. She was just stronger than I anticipated.

I pulled out my dick and wrapped my hand around its firm thickness. The blonde beauty’s face appeared. I squeezed, rubbing the crown with my thumb.

My callused hand didn’t feel as good as Destiny’s would. Nowhere close, especially in comparison to her lush lips around my cock.

I increased my speed, rushing to the finish line. I didn’t want to linger. Didn’t want to get lost in thoughts of the woman who would never be mine. But why couldn’t she?

As if she’d ever want to be with the man who abducted her.

Fuck, if we’d met under different circumstances. If she was a little older and had experienced shit, she’d know if I was the kind of man she liked.

I had dug through Destiny’s purse yesterday. Found some pictures that had been ripped out of a magazine. The short of thing Piper had done when she was a teenager. If the images were things Destiny loved, there was no place for me in her fantasy world.

Her desires were young and immature—innocent.

I’d only taint her. Damage her.

I finished abruptly, spurting my cum into the toilet bowl. A frustrated growl ripped from my throat, feeling worse. I needed to get my head straight, and jerking off to thoughts of Destiny wasn’t how to do it.

An hour and a half later—after devouring my street tacos and two beers—I was ready to face the prisoner. I steeled myself, then entered the mechanics room. She was in the position I had left her in, leaning against the concrete wall with her left hand chained to the wall and expressionless.

I set the Styrofoam container on the mattress with a stack of napkins, water, and a beer. Figured she might enjoy something else to drink, and Modelos paired well with Mexican food.

I pulled out my metal chair and set it up, then I unhooked her wrist from the cuff.

She said nothing.

I sat down and reclined in the seat, crossing my arms over my chest. This had been my routine each mealtime for the last two days. And I hated it.

She lifted the lid and studied the contents.

“Is it to your liking?”

“Mhm.” Her baby blues locked on mine and confusion crossed her face. But she didn’t say a word.

For the next several minutes, I went out of my mind watching her drop olives on her chest and bare legs. It occurred to me I could’ve brought her different clothes to change into, something more comfortable and warmer than the shirt and skirt she wore. She’d probably like to shower.

An image of her naked flashed behind my eyes. I shifted uncomfortably when an electric zing struck my dick.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

I was. “Just an itch.”

She took a long swig of her beer, then wiped her mouth and hands. Something sparked in her eyes as she eyed me.

What was she up to?

“I want to earn my keep, pay my dues.” She swiped her tongue across her bottom lip, clearing her lap of the food container. “Come here.” She gestured with her finger and tucked her legs under her bottom.

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