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This time I wasn’t sure if the truth was the right thing to say.
“Pieter?”
“My wife liked pain. She was a masochist. I used to cane her, flog her, spank her. I did what she liked. Do you understand?”
Her great green eyes seemed rounder than ever. “Maybe.”
I could see she hadn’t a clue as to what to think. Footsteps were approaching outside the room.
“She gave me permission. That means everything in the kink world.”
I neglected to mention that I was a sadist. No point really. It would only freak her out to know I enjoyed making a woman hurt.
I had no more time. The hatch slid open.
“Come here, Pieter. Time to go home.”
Fucking Gregor. It hadn’t been anything near three hours.
Chapter 7
The sound of footsteps outside faded. I strained my ears to hear. Nothing. No cries either. Had that man died? Or had they stopped hurting him?
The room was horribly empty without Pieter in it. I despised women who couldn’t fend for themselves and make their own way in life, but in a miniscule amount of time, I’d been reduced to wondering if the next person through my door would be coming to hurt me or kill me. And I couldn’t do a single thing that stood a chance of stopping them.
The bruises on my back reminded me of that.
I was defenseless.
With him here, I’d felt, not exactly safe, but comforted – like I was more than just a thing, like I mattered.
Normally, I hated touching strangers. I stared at my hand where I could still recall the feel of his fingers on mine. People touching you when you didn’t want it was creepy and it made me feel all surrounded, closed in. Liking it was weird and not me.
I sighed. I’d get over it. Fear was messing with me.
The man himself was big and scary with all his hard muscles, shaggy hair, and that black glower of his. I shivered, remembering a moment when he’d lowered his head and looked at me like I was maybe an enemy. Pieter had some nasty history but I didn’t think he’d meant to scare me, because a second later he’d smiled.
If he’d sat next to me at the movies, I’d have moved away a few seats and checked for the exit.
A scene flashed into my thoughts. I was naked with a man advancing on me, scowling that same way. I shook my head.
Hah. I’d run.
And if he’d grabbed my hair like Pieter had done? Made me look at him?
“Damn,” I whispered and pressed my hand between my legs. Crazy. The tiny climax he’d made me have was also messing with my mind.
I’d thought men just didn’t have it in them to stir me that much.
“Picked a great way to find out that,” I muttered. Then I shut my eyes to relish the spreading warmth from my clit.
They left me alone the rest of that day. The next morning a cleaning lady came in, escorted by a guard. When the unknown man started screaming again, she flinched and swore under her breath. I took a chance and asked her a question when she swept near where I sat on the bed. The guard was bored as could be, watching a fly buzzing against my one window.
“Who is that?”
Fear laced her eyes, but after a second she said quietly, “Polisman.” Then she moved away.
The guard twitched his gaze on me.
