Taken by Two(8)

By: Sam J. D. Hunt



“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“So you just did what he said without even asking—”

“Yes, Penny. I do what Rex tells me to do, without question.” Brainwashed. The psychotic goon was controlling the sexy, beautiful, and perfect Nathaniel Slater. I mean, he was a hot as hell goon, but still.

“Nate,” I sighed, “he’s evil! He choked me, and then he injected me with some drug—”

“Don’t say that!” He shook his head and stood up, heading toward the door.

“Wait, I’m sorry—don’t leave me, please.”

He stopped and turned toward me. “I like you Penny, a lot, but I won’t have you disrespecting Rex. He means the world to me. Whatever he’s done, it’s for our safety. Rex protects me, and he’ll protect you, too. But you must obey him.”


“Okay, okay, got it. Sit with me please? I’m so lonely and afraid.” He nodded and walked over toward the small table where he’d set the tray of food. “Let’s eat. Would you like some wine?” I was relieved when Nate popped the cork on a bottle of expensive chardonnay and poured two glasses before cuddling up next to me in the fluffy bed.

I tried to get physical with Nate, but he shook me off and explained, “Rex said I could only cuddle with you this time.” I couldn’t believe the level of mind-control the villain Rex had on my sweet Nate. I ran my fingers through his silky waves, the reddish brown color a sharp contrast to his flawless porcelain skin. My palm swept under his shirt; the feel of his ripped chest and the perfect V of his abs tying my greedy clit into knots. He lovingly pulled my fingers back as his cock swelled, muttering a gentle, “Not now, babe.” Unable to seduce him, we dozed off to sleep in a wine buzz with some romantic comedy playing out on the large television from a DVD we'd popped in earlier. I slept soundly in Nate’s comforting embrace—despite haunting worries of what sort of drug the evil Rex had injected me with.

When I woke up, it was morning and Nate was gone. I wandered into the small bathroom—an assortment of toiletries was lined up on the counter. The one small window, like the ones in my room, was barred. I took a shower, crying as I washed my hair. Thoughts of my father flooded me—my mom died three years ago, and despite a long estrangement, I’d grown closer to my father. He had to know I was gone, and I prayed he was looking for me.

I brushed my teeth with the new toothpaste and toothbrush on the sink before blow-drying my long blonde hair. Think Penelope, I scolded myself as I washed my face. I looked through the drawers—no makeup. Even though he was the one who kidnapped me, I sensed that Nate was my chance at freedom—his soft, warm presence was my best hope for escape. He was clearly brainwashed by the cruel King Rex, but he was also falling for me. Even without lipstick and eyeliner, I had to win over Nate.

When I emerged from the bathroom, the TV was off. Rex sat in a chair at the side of the room, tapping at his Blackberry. He was wearing darker jeans than the day prior, just as strained over his muscled legs, the same black combat boots, and a green camouflage t-shirt that struggled to cover his bulging biceps. He never looked up at me as I sat on the edge of the bed. We sat silently for what seemed like forever before he finally slid the phone in his pocket and looked up at me.

“Ah, you look nice, Princess. Much better with the war paint washed off.” His eyes roamed across my body. “The clothes fit?”

“A little snug, but yeah, they’ll do. Whose were they?”

A curtain of sadness slid across his face. “None of your fucking business,” he snapped. His large chest filled with air, and he slowly exhaled. He was trying to control his temper. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m here to chat with you because Nate the Kindhearted begged me to, and well, he can be quite…persuasive.”

“If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just drop me back in the States. I mean, they’ll be looking for me.”

He shook his head. “No one’s looking for ya, baby.” His dark stare bore into me.

“The bartender at my father’s club saw Nate leave with me, he’ll—”

An arrogant smirk slid across his lips. “No, sweetheart, they think you willingly left with a handsome ex-boyfriend for an extended frolic on the French Riviera. And as far as the bartender, well—I took care of him.”

I gasped. Hank had been a friend of mine for years, my confidant at the club where I practically lived every evening. “You didn’t!” I whispered as the tears sprung to my eyes.

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