“You can’t keep me here against my will. You have no right.”
“I have every right,” I seethed. “Your cunt friend and her bitch-ass man stole from me. By all accounts, they should already be dead, but I happen to need him. The only thing I give a fuck about is my goddamn money. Consequences and repercussions, Otelia.”
Her breathing became choppy, uncontrolled.
Finally, I had her attention.
I leaned upward, placing most of my weight on her ass while pressing her face firmly against the mattress. How easy it would be for me to smother her in seconds, stuff her in a plastic bag, then toss her in the river with the rest of the trash. Mecken would want proof that she was still alive before the match, definitely a complication. Maybe I was going about this all wrong.
“I have a proposition for you, Otelia Mae,” I whispered in her ear. “One that could be beneficial to both of us. All I ask is that you listen carefully to what I have to say.”
“Why should I, dick stain?” she replied.
“Because we’re both out of options.”
CHAPTER 4
Otelia
MY PLAN HAD epically backfired, and like most things in my life, I was the one left with a hard dick in my ass, vowing never to let it happen again. Men have always caused me a great deal of grief—they take and take until there’s nothing left of you to give. This man was no different from the rest; he just so happened to be a lot more dangerous. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? If it wasn’t for that douchebag Drew, none of this shit would be happening right now. I’d be at home tucked safely in my own bed, living ghetto fabulous, minding my own fucking business while eating a bowl of ice cream. Instead, I was being manhandled into submission by some goon with a god complex. The second I got out of here, Drew’s ass was mine. Maribel would just have to get over it, along with everything else he’d put her through. The fight inside me waned the longer I lay prostate, pressed against the pillow beneath my face, but that was only part of the problem.
A very small part.
I felt a tingling sensation followed by a rush of dampness between my thighs so fiercely primal, I ached to rub my knees together. The touch of a man was my one true weakness. Sadly enough, my body wasn’t as immune to thugs as I hoped it would be. The feel of MacCabe along with his heady scent was wreaking havoc on my senses. I couldn’t think with him being so close. If I couldn’t use my brain, I couldn’t plan. If I couldn’t plan, I’d never get out of here alive. If I didn’t tread carefully, I’d end up dead. What was that he mentioned about a proposition? I took a deep breath to settle my raging hormones.
“I’m listening,” was all I could muster.
“If I let you up, do you promise to behave, Otelia?” Hell no, asshole.
“If you mean by behave, do I plan on ripping your face off, then the answer is no. Consider yourself safe for now, Mac. Can’t speak for later though,” I hissed.
“I look forward to that, kitty cat,” he deadpanned.
The bastard gave one last roll of his hips before rising to his full height and taking three huge steps backwards. The distance gave me much-needed breathing room and ample space of which to turn over and face him head on. Sweet Mother in heaven. I took in his sexily disheveled bed head and silk sleeping pants. His muscled chest was bare, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the plains and valleys on full display. Fuck me, this guy could give Channing Tatum a run for his money if he ever wanted to pursue stripping for a living.
I thought about giving it one last shot, attack his weak spots, like I once saw in a self-defense video on the Internet. The challenging look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I was planning and was daring me to jump bad. He folded his arms over his chest, causing his pectoral muscles to clench and bunch together. His stance widened in preparation for battle. I wanted to slap that arrogant scowl off his face so badly my palm itched. Instead, I settled for giving him one of my own in return.
“Smart,” he mumbled once he realized violence on my part wasn’t happening. Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked.
“How did you know about the lamp? Were you spying on me, creeper?” I accused.
“Cameras.” He pointed them out as he spoke. “Suites are wired for video, not sound, all except the bathroom. Must say, though, I enjoyed the little show you put on, but word of advice…choose a better weapon next time. Lamps are far too clunky.”
“I’ll remember that, asshole,” I snarled. Still pissed he foiled my plan.
“Let’s you and I review the facts of our little predicament and come to some sort of arrangement that creates a win-win for both of us. I don’t have time to play games with you, Otelia. By way of importance, your life hovers somewhere towards the bottom of my list, just above brushing and flossing my teeth. The only thing I want to hear coming from your mouth are rational solutions, nothing more. If you insist on acting like a child, I will put you over my knee and spank your sexy little ass until it turns pink, am I understood?”
Was this asshole serious?
He spoke of ending my life so matter-of-factly, if he were holding a nail file, he’d almost look bored. He really couldn’t see how this whole thing was completely fucked up and that I wanted no part of it.
“Rational decision?” I screeched, tossing a pillow towards his feet. “Did I ask to be here? No, I did not. Did I kidnap you from your place of business? No, I fucking didn’t. Did I threaten your friends, if you had any, with bodily harm if they didn’t fight to the death in your stupid Hunger Games? No. I. Didn’t. Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with me, so why should I have to be the rational one, hmmm? Riddle me that, Einstein.”
He mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out before he addressed my mild hysteria. “Facts, Otelia. Anything else is a waste of both our energies. Now, try again without your feminine emotions getting in the way.”
I inhaled sharply at his condescending tone. Mac was spot on, much to my chagrin. No one would come looking for me. I wasn’t expected back at Nipsy’s since I had the next two days off, and Maribel was busy dealing with the same bullshit I was, in a slightly different way. Add that up, and it could only mean one thing: I was well fucked without the courtesy of a reach-around.
I couldn’t help but home in on his bare chest lightly sprinkled with hair, that delicious V as his hips tapered down into those sexy sleeping pants, and that hefty package lying languidly against his thigh like a third leg. I’d tried it my way with zero results. Perhaps if I just asked the mouth breather what I wanted to know, he would tell me. What other choice did I have?
“What are you, some kind of a loan shark?” I fished.
“I’m a business man, Otelia. It just so happens that my area of expertise is underground fighting. The men come and go of their own free will. They seek me out, not the other way around. I provide the venues, trained security agents, and take my cut of the purse.”
“How much?” I pushed.
“Excuse me?”
“How much is your cut? For someone who doesn’t take any of the risk, I assume it’s minimal unless, of course, you’re a greedy bastard who only cares about himself.”
“Then you’d assume wrong on both counts. As for my cut, it’s none of your business.”