Page 21 of No One Has To Know

“You want your freedom, Angela? I want my forever. And I’m the one in charge here. But I’m feeling generous. Can’t say it’ll last, so I’d take the chance while you can. Kiss me, and I’ll take off the cuffs for good.”

Two can play this game.

“Just… just one kiss?”

“To start. Do we have a deal?”

A deal with the devil, maybe, but if there’s one thing I learned from last night, it’s that he abides by them. “Yes.”

He moves into me. “See. I’m not so bad. Your freedom for one measly kiss.”

Only it’s not. I know that much for sure. Burns has made it clear that, until he’s done with me one way or another, I’m not going anywhere. His endgame is… actually, I’m not so surewhatit is. If I can believe him, it’s a shotgun wedding. At the very least, there’s no way he won’t be satisfied until I let him fuck me.

As intimate as it was to let him draw off my panties and finger me, initiating a kiss on my own seems even more so.

“Uncuff me first.”

I didn’t think he’d rise to my dare. Surprisingly, he does. Without even a moment’s hesitation, he clomps over to the cot, releasing the cuff from the headboard. He doesn’t remove the one from my wrist. Probably because he wants to make sure I do give him the kiss I promised him.

He wants one? He’ll get one.

With my hands free, I rise up from the cot. I gesture for him to come closer. Burns bows his head, so trustingly that I have to wonder what he’s doing. I’m free. I could swing the handcuff across his face, stunning him long enough to… I don’t know… grab his gun or something.

But I don’t. Proving to him that I can be a good girl when I want to be, I go up on my tippy-toes and rest my palms against his hard jaw. His stubble pricks the inside of my hand.

He keeps his mouth closed. I have to press my lips against his, licking at the seam of his mouth, begging for entrance. He’ll accept no less than a kiss that I completely control, and maybe it’s the stubborn side of me peeking through, but I refuse to give up until he lets me in.

He manipulated me into doing it. Even as Burns takes the kiss over, I’m aware of it.

That doesn’t stop me, though, does it?

After he’s gone, I rub my finger over my lips, savoring his taste.

So maybe I let the insane cop who kidnapped me finger-fuck me to orgasm, then blackmail me into kissing him. On the upside, now my hands are free—and he hasn’t tried to slip that ring of his on my finger yet.

9

ANGELA

Another day alone in the basement. Another day of waiting for Burns to return from his patrol.

He never removed the cuff. My hands are free, but the heavy weight of the one cuff is a constant reminder that I’m still as much his prisoner as I was when I first woke up down here.

I ate. I read the first three chapters of my botany guide before my mind began to wander. When my thoughts kept returning to my captor instead of the flowers I was reading about, I slammed the cover shut before returning to the cot.

I tried to nap. It didn’t work.

What I wouldn’t give for my phone. Not because I thought it would do anything after the way Burns always sent messages to the few people I actually was in contact with, but because it has games. I had streaming apps. Mindless videos would make my time alone go by so much faster.

I asked Burns about it last night before he scooted me to the side of the cot, squeezing his big body in next to me right after he cuffed us together; even in sleep, he wanted to make sure I couldn’t get away from him. All he said was that, if I was good, I would get rewarded.

Too bad that’s easier said than done…

Finally, when it feels like I’ve been waiting forever, the door to the basement creaks open.

I sit up, watching warily as Burns slowly descends into the basement. What kind of captor will I get today, I wonder? Fierce? Playful? Commanding? Possessive?

Horny?

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