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“Lucky you indeed. It will save your life.”
The way he says it, so off-handedly, makes my stomach churn in the worst way. “I don’t know how you think this is going to end, but—”
“Oh, but I do know how it’s going to end: with you spread eagle under me, every inch of your body quivering in need.” Spoken so confidently by him, I’m taken aback, and all I can do is stare at him with an open mouth. “What time is it?”
I don’t pull out my phone, mostly because I know it’s well after nine. His hour for a month exchange rings in my head. There’s no way he’ll get free and kidnap me in revenge, right? Ugh. I feel like I’m asking for it.
When I don’t answer him, he changes tactics and says, “I need to use the restroom.” Silence is his only answer, mostly because I’m wondering if this is some kind of joke. “I need to take a piss. You heard me, love. I’ve been on this chair for hours. It’s not the most comfortable position—”
“Hold it,” I tell him.
“What do you think I’ve been doing? I had a lot to drink at the club, thanks to someone’s multiple refills.” The smile on his face reveals his mischievous nature. “Tell you what. You can keep the handcuffs on me the whole time.”
Oh, my God. Is this really my life right now? Do I really have a mafia boss in my living room, tied up with handcuffs and a mountain of duct tape, telling me he has to pee? I must’ve stepped in some kind of opposite world without realizing it.
I stare at him and he stares right back. We have a good, old-fashioned staring contest, our wills battling without words. It’s not completely out of the blue, the notion that he has to pee; he was right when he said he drank a lot at the club. Hell, I don’t know how he held it for this long, but even so, the last thing I want to do is let him go just so he can relieve his bladder.
I shouldn’t give in to him. I know I shouldn’t. But, as we continue to stare at each other, something in me gives, something weakens, and before I know it I’m strolling into the kitchen to grab scissors so I can cut through the tape rolled around his chest and his ankles.
I kneel near his feet and cut him loose one leg at a time, and Silus tells me, “Thank you, love. I really do hate to bother you with this, but it’s—” He shuts up when I stand and point the tip of the scissors at his neck.
“If this is some kind of trick to escape, I’ll stab you,” I threaten him.
All the asshole does is smile, like I just made his day by telling him I’d plunge a pair of scissors into his body.
Though it’s the last thing I want to do, I cut him loose. His hands are still kept behind his back thanks to the handcuffs, so when he stands, he can’t touch me.
Unfortunately, when he does get to his feet, he towers over me like some kind of freaking mountain. The guy is easily over six feet, with a few inches to spare. Now that he’s not seated and I’m directly in front of him, clutching those scissors for dear life, it dawns on me just how impressive of a specimen he is.
Fucking tall, with wide shoulders to match. And that suit? It might be a little wrinkled from the whole kidnapping thing, but I’ve never seen clothes fit a man like that suit fits him.
I swallow hard, and my mind is so frazzled thanks to him that it takes me a moment to remember why I cut him loose—and that I shouldn’t have threatened him with scissors. I have his gun. Sheesh. This man is driving me crazy already, and I’ve known him less than twelve hours.
I swap the scissors for his gun, and though the metal doesn’t feel right in my hand, I point in the direction of our bathroom. This house technically has one and a half baths, but honestly the half bath on this floor is nothing to write home about. The toilet’s cracked. Still works, doesn’t leak yet, but it’s only a matter of time.
That said, as much as I’m embarrassed to show him our lower bathroom, the last thing I want to do is take him upstairs and let him walk past my room. I don’t want him seeing my things. It’s too personal.
Just off the kitchen is where the half bath is, and since I’m walking behind him, I can see the way he looks around and takes everything in—which only proves that I was right in not wanting him to walk by my room.
Once we reach it, I say, “Through that door.” There aren’t any windows in the tiny half bath, so there’s nowhere for him to go. I don’t need to be in the room while he takes a piss. No thank you.
Silus chuckles, and he stands half in the bathroom and half out. His dark gaze turns to me, amusement flickering in its depth, and he asks, “What do you expect me to do? Love, I need your help with it.”
All I can do is blink at him and wonder if I heard him right. “Uh… what?”
“With no hands, how am I supposed to undo my belt and get myself out? How am I supposed to aim, for that matter? Thea, you’ll need to come in here with me, undo my pants, and—”
“I should shoot you right now,” I huff, my cheeks blazing after listening to him. He wants me to… to undo his belt and his pants, pull his dick out, and hold it while he pees? He has to be fucking with me.
Silus flashes me a smile that would knock most women off their feet. “If you were to kill me now, I’d just piss myself anyway when I die, so unless you’d shoot to maim, I wouldn’t.”
I can barely formulate the words of a refusal: “I’m not holding onto your dick while you pee! I can’t believe we’re even talking about this!”
“Well, unless you’re going to unlock these cuffs—”
“I’m not unlocking the cuffs,” I growl out.
“—I need your help with it. Believe me, it’s not something I thought I’d ever have to ask of a beautiful woman, but I also never thought I’d get kidnapped by one, either. Life is full of surprises.” Silus pauses, his smile deepening. “So? Are you going to get in here with me or not?”
