“After that?” He motioned to where his cock lay against his thigh, happy and spent. “You can call me anything ya want.”
She giggled and tucked her head into the space between his chin and his heart. It seemed perfectly made to fit her cheek. “I think I’ll call you Mr. Eighth Wonder of the World.”
He was grinning ear to ear, gently running a fingertip up the delicate divot of her spine.
“You’ve got a great ass,” he told her. “But I’m not sure it’s big enough for a tattoo that long.”
“You’re probably right. How disappointing.”
“God, woman, I?—”
He stopped mid-sentence, the words shriveling up in the back of his throat like slugs hit by salt.
He’d almost said, I love you.
31
Vivian had lost track of time since the men exited the tunnel.
The pitch-black hole slinking beneath the earth had swallowed the minutes, stretching each one into eternity. Only the gnawing hunger in her gut and the dry fire in her throat kept her tenuously tethered to reality.
The cold, once a welcome reprieve from the bottling plant’s sweltering heat, had turned on her like everything else. Her clothes hung damp and heavy, plastered to her skin until goosebumps crawled up her arms, and the back of her neck felt like raw meat laid on ice.
She couldn’t stop shivering. But pride kept her from letting her teeth chatter audibly.
The blindfold was gone—the two men had left it off—but it made no difference. The darkness was complete. And yet…
She swore she saw movement sometimes. Shadows slithering at the edges of her sight. Shapes that coiled and circled and seemed to…breathe.
Tilting her head, she strained to catch any sound beyond the steady plink…plink…plink of dripping water. But the only other noises to reach her ears were her own ragged breaths and the occasional squeak of the metal chair when she moved.
Her shoulders burned from having her hands tied behind her back. Her feet were numb from being strapped to the chair legs.
It didn’t escape her notice that the Black Knights had secured her in the precise position she’d secured Sabrina Greenlee.
Coincidence?
Hell no.
She began to understand that the Black Knights did nothing by accident.
Whirrr.
The low mechanical groan of the large sliding door was familiar now. She turned toward the ever-widening opening, desperately grasping for some light amidst the darkness. But that was a mistake.
The bright white glow pouring in through the breach sliced into her unprepared eyes like blades. She blinked rapidly, hating the tears that sprang into her eyes as the wedge of light on the sloping ground grew wider and two figures stood silhouetted in the gap.
The same two figures who’d stood before her earlier, demanding answers.
The door reversed course on its tracks, groaning in its journey. Then it sealed shut, and darkness once more swallowed her down its black throat.
Afterimages of the silhouettes danced in her vision. Her breath picked up as her eyes fought against the return of the blackness.
Snick.
She heard the flashlight snap on before seeing its thin beam.
Heavy boots fell on damp concrete and echoed off the curved walls as the two men approached.
