Page 3 of Rett

“Dance?” she said with a heavy accent.

“No, thanks,” he laughed.

She pouted, pushing his legs apart and rubbing her hand along his groin. Rett groaned, remembering how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.

“You need,” she smiled coyly.

“Yeah, I need, but it’s not a good idea.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him out the back door, pointing to a trail that led toward the sea. Stopping, he pulled her back.

“How much?” he asked.

“Docientos,” she said, wiggling her shoulders.

“Two hundred? You’d better be damn good.”

He hated himself for even thinking it, but he was really hard now, and she was definitely showing all her assets.

The little cottage by the sea didn’t have much. A small table and chairs, a narrow bed, a few paintings on the wall, and items that appeared to be trinkets lying around. But it did have a beautiful view of the sea beyond.

She closed the door, turning to smile at him as she undressed. Rett was shaking his head, laughing, but she was damn tempting. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. Stripping off his clothes, he double-gloved his dick, grabbing the woman and tossing her on the bed.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he moaned, pounding inside of her. She laughed as her luscious tits bounced up and down. When he was done, he tied off the condoms, tossing them in the wastebasket. Trying to leave, she pulled him back for another round, and he couldn’t refuse, lost in the euphoria of orgasm for the first time in months.

After the third time, she handed him a bottle of water, and he gladly took it, sipping slowly. That’s when he saw the tattoo. She belonged to them. He tried to leave, but something was keeping him right where he was.

He lay back against the pillows, feeling light-headed. Hell, he’d been fucking the woman for two hours and just now saw that tattoo. Was he remembering it clearly?

But when the light-headedness turned to dizziness, he became concerned. He tried to stand, reaching for his clothes.

“No. No, don’t go,” she pleaded. Feeling a stick at the back of his neck, he shoved her away, pushing her down on the bed.

“I have to go. Get away from me,” he said, staring at her. She smiled at him, shaking her head with a little cluck of her tongue.

“American is tired. You need sleep,” she cooed.

No matter how hard he tried, Rett couldn’t keep his eyes open. Finally, concerned that he might fall face-first onto the floor, he fell back against the bed. Then everything went black.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but he rolled over to face the window and breathe in the fresh sea air. That’s what he needed – fresh air. Gripping the window sill, he noticed something strange, shaking his head to clear his eyesight.

Everett stared at his bloodied hands. He blinked, then closed his eyes, opening them again. Why were they bloody? Looking down at his chest, he saw the blood there as well.

“Fuck. Am I shot?” he muttered. He touched his chest, feeling the sticky, wet substance staining his shirt. Shirt? Didn’t he take his shirt off?

Rolling over, he thought he’d see the woman who took him home with her. She’d been a hot little number for sure, willing to do anything you wanted and more than willing to get creative with her mouth and tongue.

That’s when he remembered what he saw. That’s when the image of the tattoo just below her navel flooded his brain.

Fuck! Why hadn’t he seen that right away? Was he thinking so hard with his dick that he didn’t bother to let his brain check in? Or had she used cover-up makeup to ensure that he didn’t see it?

She belonged to them. He remembered shoving her away from him, gripping his cock, and ripping off the new condom. Having no strength to fight her, he remembered feeling the sting, then the blissful feeling of nothingness.

Nothing except euphoria and blackness.

Rett started to panic, staring at the blood on his hands and clothes. He’d taken them off. He’d taken off the pants and shirt when they fucked. How the hell had they gotten back on his body? She was too small to do it by herself.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Standing, he steadied himself, wobbling back and forth for a minute. Looking at the floor, he noticed blood streaked from one end of the room to the other. A feeling of panic and distress settled in his chest. With only the single room, he didn’t know where she’d gone.

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