All of the moments we’d shared so far since I brought him here came to mind. My mind wondered to how many women had the luxury of seeing him from head to toe without restrictions. A wave of jealousy breezed over me, and I shook the thought off quickly. He wasn’t anything to me but an individual that kidnapped me. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Brat.”
Lifting my head, I answered with “Yes.”
That fast, I went from keeping my head down and out the way to studying his body from top to bottom. My eyes roamed with no rush behind them. The boldness of this man to stroke his dick while calling out to me. Whatever he needed me for, I was willing to give. Those full lips curled upward with a devious smile piercing them seconds after.
“Stop staring unless you ‘bout to hop on this muthafucka. I’ll make an exception for you.”
“You fuckin’ wish nigga,” I replied snapping back to reality. That moment of hypnotization was short lived.
“Hand me the shampoo so I can wash my hair. Is that too much for you to handle?”
I could’ve easily done as he asked, but I refused and stepped into the brat role he claimed me to be. “It is. If you want it, come get it,” I sassed.
Cocking his head to the side, he ran his tongue across his teeth. The smirk was gone, and he was annoyed.Good.
Approaching me, the same tool he stroked now flopped against his legs. The length was one you couldn’t miss, and the v-cut of his waist gave it nothing but compliments. A third leg andthe physique of a man that deserved every ride that was given. Black was handsome and I was sure his egotistical ass knew it.
He got so close to me that his midsection was inches away from my face. This was the closest I’d ever been to temptation. He reached down and snatched up the bottle next to me. I could feel his irritancy radiating from his pores. I truly didn’t care though.
Turning his back to me, he strolled back to the first shower head. I kept my eyes locked on his backside and took in every single detail. Washboard abs in the front and a back you wanted to hug daily. Even his little butt was cute. The tattoos didn’t seem to stop until you reached his ankles. Tatted, red, and unapologetically him. He had traits that would’ve gave him a second chance if the circumstances were different.
I found something else to busy my time with as he finished up showering. Unpleasant thoughts began to flow making me question myself and morals. There was no way I was growing some kind of attraction to this man after he held a gun to my head.
The water shut off and my gaze was back on him. A towel was pulled from the same place I gathered mine. The free will to view his manhood was now under restriction. It was a bittersweet moment.
“Come on,” he ordered stretching his hand out to me.
I allowed him to usher me over to the sink before he grabbed his gun and stepped away into my closet. I moved as quick as I could with getting my gown on. Putting on underwear was too much of a struggle, and I would need his help essentially with them. I would’ve rather free balled and kept myself out of his reach. Once I was in the thin thread comfortably, he surfaced from the closet in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Surprisingly, they fit him well.
His stride from the closet to the sink was long and slow. His eyes shifted to different areas of my body with each step. I felt judged by him for the first time. The many times he called me out my name with the cripple and special bullshit, didn’t phase me. This look was completely different creating paranoia.
“What?” I asked trying to figure out why his gaze wouldn’t find anything else of interest.
“I didn’t expect red to look so…”
Rolling my eyes for the umpteenth time, I voiced, “It’s not my color, I know. Just help me back to bed please, I’m ready to lay down.”
“I never said that, Brat,” he replied.
“You didn’t have to.”
He circled my waist with his arm and slowly walked me back into the bedroom. I noticed the crutch I couldn’t locate earlier was now leaning against my headboard. A slight smirk graced my lips leaving seconds later. He wanted to be a mean ass so bad but didn’t realize the little things he was doing for me was shattering that wall.
“Thank you,” I said once I was on the side of the bed I normally occupied.
“Mhmm.What a nigga supposed to eat ‘round here? All you got is that meal plan bullshit.”
“There’s plenty of food down there, Black.”
“No, the fuck it’s not. It ain’t nothing but vegetables and Jenny Craig tv dinners. I’m fuckin’ hungry, Brat. What’s the address to this muthafucka? I’m ’bout to order some pizza or something.” He was getting more agitated with the way I lived.
“I can’t have that. Red sauce causes flare ups. The food down there is fine. All you have to do is warm it up.”
“Aye, what the fuck don’t you understand? I’m not eating no rabbit food two days in a row. You can miss me with that goofy ass shit.”
Ignoring his rant, I redirected the conversation to the phones. Either way it went, he would have to allow me to use one. Toneshia would be here sooner than later. “Can I use your phone?” I inquired as I sat on the bed.
