Taken by Two(6)

By: Sam J. D. Hunt



He looked up and sighed before banging his hand on the divider glass separating us from the driver. It slid down, and a dark skinned man, perhaps Hispanic, answered, “Yes, Mr. Renton?” Rex pointed at me. “Rodrigo, can you turn the air down—the pampered Princess here is cold.” The driver reached over and with a stab of a button the strong wind of frigid air stopped. “Thank you, that’s all.” The glass slid back up.

“Thanks,” I said, still chilled but relieved to not be shaking.

“Here,” he croaked, reaching toward his waist and pulling his dark t-shirt up over his torso. “It’s all I have. We’re about fifteen minutes away. I think I have some chick clothes stashed somewhere you can wear—although I’d rather that flawless body stay naked.” His large cotton t-shirt landed on my lap, but I was too distracted to bother wrapping it around my goose-bumped arms. Rex’s abs were more than a six-pack, they were an eight-pack if that even exists. A light dusting of dark blonde hair covered his perfectly defined pecs, the line going down his center—my lusty eyes drank in his toned, inked body. Most distracting was his right nipple—a metal barbell piercing ran through it. I stared until he cleared his throat, drawing me back to reality. “Distracted, Princess?” A flirty smile slid across his lips. He winked and went back to his Blackberry, the knowing smile still visible at the edges of his lips.

I pulled his t-shirt over my arms as a warm blush rose from my chest to my cheeks. Yes, he’d caught me looking—but who wouldn’t look? The man was physical perfection and, even sexier, the cotton of his shirt smelled like all man. His scent was spicy and virile, with nothing artificial to cover up his masculinity. Nate smelled like a luscious cologne, but Rex smelled like an alpha male to die for.

A few minutes later, Rex broke the silence by answering his vibrating phone. “What’s up, man?” he said casually. His eyes looked over at me as he said, “Yeah, we’re ten minutes out.” He listened to the caller before answering, “Uh, yeah, I have it—I’ll get it done one way or another.” He ended the call and said to me, “Want some water?” My mouth was dry and gummy—I hadn’t had anything to drink for hours. “God, yes, I’m parched, my mouth is like sandpaper.” He reached into a compartment at the side of the van and pulled out a bottle of Fiji-brand water. I licked my dry lips, relieved that he was treating me civilly. He twisted the blue cap off and drained the entire bottle into his gulping throat. When he finished, he let a little roll down his scruffy chin before crushing the bottle in the palm of his hand. “Behave, and when you get to your room, you can have a drink. Maybe water, maybe…” He winked at me again and wiped the water from his face with the back of his hand.


I felt the chill of a cold sweat—Rex was clearly the type of man who had a sadistic streak; he liked to toy with a captive. Whether he would really hurt me or not, I wasn’t sure. Despite my trepidation, the thought of him coating my tongue betrayed me—my clit swelling and throbbing as we pulled into an industrial type garage.

The van came to a stop, but the large doors on the side didn’t open. Rex put his phone in his pocket and turned to face me, leaning in as if he was about to deliver bad news. “Listen, Penelope,” his voice was deep, serious. He’d never used my full first name before. A tremor ran across my spine. “I need you to get in this bag, it’ll only be for a—”

“No, please, I beg you—I won’t, I can’t, don’t…” He was reaching into a storage compartment and pulling out a body-sized burlap bag. “Don’t kill me!” I howled. His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows knitted together. “What? No, I’m not going to… I can’t have you seeing my place. Slip into the sack and I’ll carry you to your room. Behave and I’ll take care of you, fight me and I’ll toss you into the pond with the reptiles.”

“Blindfold me, anything but a bag. I-I’m claustrophobic, I can’t…”

“Sorry, Princess.” He leaned over in the cramped van and grabbed me, yanking me to the floor. I fought as he leaned his weight on me, holding me in place against the rough carpeted floor. “Be still,” he threatened as I continued to writhe and flail against his hard body. My mind went back to when I was seven; I accidentally got locked in a broken freezer in a friend’s garage. We were playing hide and seek, but once I got in, I couldn’t get out. They didn’t find me for almost an hour—and to this day I fear enclosed, dark places—that and anything that slithered.

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