“That looks like it hurts,” Hannah says, drawing my attention away from her ass and to the reflection of her face in the mirror. She’s drying her hair with her towel while looking at my cock again, now because it’s long and hard, forming quite a tent in my boxer briefs.
She’s right. My balls ache, needing some relief because it’s been days since I rubbed one out while watching the hard-core porn that I enjoy.
I turn away from Hannah and force myself to think of something awful, like the night we found Tessa in the storage facility where she was being held like an animal and then the creative ways we tortured one of the men who hurt her. It doesn’t take long for those thoughts to take the wind out of my cock’s sails.
By the time I’ve turned the shower back on so that it’s only producing cold water, I’m at half-mast. And once I take my tee and boxer briefs off to step under the icy stream, I’m under control again.
I focus on washing my hair and body, refusing to look over at Hannah, who is still meandering around in the bathroom. I know she’s watching me. No, gawking at me, but that’s fine. There’s nothing I’m ashamed of that she can see, and at least I know she isn’t making a run for it out of the hotel room.
After the quickest shower of my life, I open the door and Hannah hands me a towel, like we’re not two strangers who are naked and wet together, but like an odd couple.
“Thanks,” I tell her.
“No, thank you,” she replies while staring down at my dick, lips parted with interest like she’s imagining it in her mouth.
I stop myself there before my mind goes down that road.
“Get dressed,” I tell her, using the towel to shield my crotch from her.
“I don’t think a man has ever said those words to me,” Hannah replies, crowding me, standing too close and still too sexy in what is actually a pretty large bathroom.
“If you’re not ready by the time I have my clothes on, I’ll dress you again like I did last night,” I warn her.
“You put those pajamas on me?” she asks in surprise.
“I couldn’t bring you in the hotel naked or in nothing but that damn dress shirt you had on.”
“You still haven’t told me what I’m doing here,” she remarks, jutting out one of her hips. I have no idea where her towel has disappeared to. All I know is that it’s nowhere in sight, and she doesn’t seem to be inclined to cover up anytime soon.
“Get dressed and we’ll talk,” I say as I slip past her and out of the bathroom to find my clean clothes in my backpack and put them on, wrinkles and all.
Hannah follows me and of course watches, refusing to dress herself.
Once my fresh jeans and tee are on, I slide my arms through my cut. “If you’ll cooperate, we’ve got time to grab something to eat before we have to be at the airport. After losing everything in your stomach, you must be hungry.”
“Wait. Back up,” she says when she takes a seat on the foot of my unmade bed. “Why are we going to the airport?”
“Because that’s where the planes land and take off,” I answer.
“Okay, smart-ass,” she says, narrowing her blue eyes at me while I force mine to stay on her face and not the other tempting parts of her. “Where is the plane taking us?” Her gaze lowers to my cut, and she obviously reads the patches. “Myrtle Beach!” she exclaims, jumping to her feet, making her boobs bounce enticingly.
Fuck me. I’ve got to get some clothes on her.
“I’m not going back to Myrtle Beach!” she yells. “My father sent you, didn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“No!” she says with a shake of her head as she backs up until she runs into the television stand, grabbing her lower back as the sharp edge digs into her spine. “I can’t. I won’t. Fuck him and fuck you!”
With that declaration, she takes off to her side of the suite and straight to the door. She gets the chain undone and is turning the dead bolt when my arm snakes around her waist to scoop her up off the floor and pull her away before she runs out in the hall still naked.
“Put me down!” she shrieks loud enough for the hotel levels above and below us to hear, and then she’s fighting me. Her elbows land in my ribs and hands slap at my arm before her fingernails dig into my flesh. Small but feisty feet flail, her heels slamming into my shins. I get abused in several areas of my body, and rather than hate the pain, I actually like it.
To try and minimize the damage, though, I sit down in the chair on her side of the suite and let her squirm and beat the shit out of me, figuring she’ll give up or wear herself out at some point. The worst pain comes when her head slams back into mine, leaving a knot on my forehead, but thankfully I duck just in time and she misses my nose.
Eventually, after minutes or hours, her punches and kicks and scratches ease up. Her entire body slumps in defeat like she’s finally realized I’m not going to let her go. My dick perked up again from the first second I restrained her, and it gives a jerk when Hannah’s ass presses down on my lap and her breasts hang over my arm that’s still wrapped tightly around her waist.
Then I hear her sniffles and I feel like a piece of shit.
“You work…for…my father?” she asks.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?” she huffs, sniffling some more and reaching up to wipe her damp cheeks with the heel of her palm. “He paid you to come drag me home?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’m not going,” she declares. And then, her breathing becomes faster and faster as she starts to hyperventilate. “I can’t! I won’t go!”
“Jesus, calm down. Just breathe,” I tell her.
“I can’t!” she cries out.
“Sure you can. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” I remind her, using my free hand to hold up her wet hair off the back of her neck so she can cool down. “You’re getting all worked up for nothing.”
“For nothing? That’s what you think?” she scoffs. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, what he did to me!”
I freeze, suddenly worried that the chief is a bigger piece of shit than we all thought. “What did he do?” I ask her softly.
She shakes her head but doesn’t respond while still gasping and sniffling.
“Did he beat you?”
“No.”
“Was he…did he molest you?”
“No, jeez!”
“Then what did he do that’s so bad?” I ask, and she just shakes her head again without giving me a verbal answer. “Look, you hate your dad. I get it. I hate him too,” I tell her. Relaxing my grip on her waist, my fingers drag across her stomach until it’s just resting on her hip in case she tries to bolt again.
“So then why would you do this to me?” she asks.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” I admit. “And don’t you miss your sister? What’s her name…”
“Emilia.”
“Emilia, right,” I say even though I had no clue who the chief’s youngest daughter was that he wanted me to use to lure Hannah back. “Don’t you want to see Emilia and your mom? You couldn’t have been happy living with Professor Pervert.”