One final second where I saver the feel of her this close, then I push up and bring her hands with me. I lasso the belt around her wrists and cinch it tight. “You’re going to get hyperthermia.” I scoop Blakely into my arms, and she allows me to carry her back onto the trail.
I realize, out here with her, sheltered by darkness and towering monuments of time, I haven’t counted the seconds, the minutes. The constant, maddening need to check my watch hasn’t once demanded my attention.
She is more consuming than any madness.
17
Committed
Blakely
Lukewarm water beads down my back, washing away the frigid river. I turn the tap all the way to hot, hoping it will scald, but the degree barely changes. I feel like I’ll never be warm again, my body and extremities hardened into ice.
A completely inappropriate laugh slips out at the thought. I am ice, that’s why I’m here. Hard, cold, dead ice. Alex chose me out of a club full of narcissistic, shallow and superficial people. There had to be another option that night, but he selected me.
This bathroom is a new addition, added on to the basement but set apart from the area where he holds me. I pick up the shampoo bottle and notice it’s some generic brand. I suppose scientists who spend their days and nights torturing their victims don’t have time to formulate a preference for haircare.
I lather the shampoo into my hair, letting the suds slide down my body until the water starts to run cold, my thoughts turning inward.
Over the course of my life, no matter what situation I found myself in, I’ve considered myself the most intelligent person in the room. It was like a superpower, to know what everyone else was thinking, what they’d say, how they’d act and respond.
I’m good at what I do because emotion doesn’t hinder my process. And yet, out there at the river, with Alex baring his vulnerability, I couldn’t see past him—I couldn’t exploit any weakness…and I don’t understand why.
The frustration slithers under my skin, and I grip my hair at the roots, a scream lodged at the base of my throat.
I know what men look like and how they behave when they’re attracted to me. When they want to fuck me. But I’ve never had a man look at me the way Alex was tonight…and that not only confused me right then, I was paralyzed.
He’s fucking with my head. Literally. Regardless of what I thought I had figured out about Alex, I can’t underestimate him. I have to keep focused, stay smart.
I twist the lever to kill the now-cold water and ring out my hair. I drape the towel Alex left near the tub around my body, tucking the corner under my arm. As I step out, I notice the clothes set on the granite counter. There’s nothing else in this room. No toilet. No mirror. No personal effects. Nothing I can use as a weapon against my captor or to harm myself.
I dry off and toss the towel to the tile floor with my discarded clothes, then hold up the white Oxford button-down. There’s also a pair of nude panties and jogging pants. Despite still being cold, I forgo the pants and dress in the shirt and panties only.
I test the door. It’s not locked. As I enter the narrow hallway, I hear Alex typing on his computer. I hover in the entryway, and I know he’s aware of me. His fingers halt briefly over the keys before he resumes typing.
Despite my desperate actions earlier, I knew there was little chance of escape. I wasn’t trying to get free so much as test Alex and get a better sense of my surroundings. Right now, he’s still vulnerable. Worn. Tired. Fragile.
After my stunt, I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to be outside. I have to utilize this rare chance to push him even further.
As I enter the room, I eye the cart with the metal box and paddles, a feral need to destroy it taking hold. But for right now, it doesn’t appear Alex plans to use it.
“I need better shampoo and conditioner,” I say.
Alex stops typing, but he doesn’t turn around. “That’s what’s important to you?”
I drag my fingers through my damp strands. “I have highlighted hair. Your off-brand shit makes if feel like straw.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I ease closer, taking note of the closed curtain. “Why do you wear a lab coat?”
This gains his full attention. He closes the laptop and spins the chair around. He’s wary about my questions and demeanor. He should be. His gaze travels over me—my bare legs, wet hair saturating his white shirt, making it nearly transparent over my breasts—and a hard edge frames his features.
His body language states he’s in no mood to play, not after chasing me down in the freezing river. But all we have is this game. One winner, one loser.
And I refuse to lose.
“Because I’m a scientist,” he says curtly.
I fiddle with the top button of his shirt. “But this isn’t a lab with other scientists. It’s just you and me. Who do you wear it for?”
He adjusts his glasses, a maneuver geared to prevent him from staring. “I wear it because it’s who I am.”
As opposed to a kidnapping megalomaniac… I keep that to myself. Instead, I undo the button and let my fingers skim down to the next one. “You’re something else, too,” I say.
Alex crosses his arms, his gaze drops to the exposed skin between my breasts. “Blakely, whatever this is…stop.”
I undo the second button, then the third, letting the shirt fall open. A tease, a taunt. A peek at the bottom swell of my breasts. Alex has stopped trying to avoid looking as he stares openly now.
“You’re lonely, Alex.” I leisurely run my fingers down the seam of his shirt. I stop to undo the last button. “I noticed it out there, while you held me pinned to the ground. I felt your desire to make a connection, to be inside me.” I push the shirt open, giving him the full, unobstructed view of my body. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?”
His breath comes as a sharp intake of air, his gaze dragging over me unhurriedly. “Physical indulgence hasn’t been a priority,” he admits. “I’ve told you before that you’re a beautiful woman—” he meets my eyes “—but it’s only lust, Blakely. What you witnessed out there was just primal, cardinal lust. Nothing more. A normal, basic bodily reaction to stimuli.”
I walk toward him and stop only inches away. “Basic bodily reaction to stimuli,” I repeat as I drop my hand to my thigh and roam upward, touching the tips of my fingers to my sex. He watches intently as I rub myself. “You make it sound so technical and impersonal, detached.”
“With you, it would be,” he fires back.
I straddle my legs on either side of his thighs, placing my hands on his shoulders. “And is that wrong?” I slowly lower myself onto his lap. “I have needs, too. Locked away out here, no one else around to see, or judge.”
Alex turns his head to the side, refusing to look at me, but the rock-hard erection beneath me says everything he won’t. “Blakely…God, stop. Your need to control the situation is manifesting in a physical need to assert dominance.” He takes hold of my wrists and stares into my eyes with a fierce glare. “I’m in control of my urges.”