“What do you think this is? The Four Seasons? Unless you’re bleeding or vomiting, you’re not leaving this room, sugar.”
I really hated nicknames unless it was little raven, menace, my little kitten, or killer kay. I’d give anything to hear one of those.
Weighing my options, I considered which would likely get me out of the room faster. Blood or puke. Neither were particularly appealing, but I guessed that was the point. I went for the easiest route given the circumstances.
I started gagging.
It wasn’t all that difficult to trigger my gag reflex. I was already sick to my stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I heaved a few more times for dramatic effect while also doing my best not to actually lose what little food I had in me, but if it came down to it, I’d happily blow chunks all over this guard.
He stared at me for a long moment, his hazel eyes moving from my face to my posture to the way I was holding myself. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, part suspicion, part consideration, part something darker inciting my skin to crawl. “You better not be fucking with me.”
I shook my head, swallowing the acid bile coating the back of my throat. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“I can think of a few things that might make you feel better.” He smirked, and I fought the urge to wipe that expression off his face with my fingernails.
Creepy jackass.
But maybe I could use his evident interest to my benefit.
I gave him a look under hooded lashes. “The cameras,” I whispered, my eyes carefully sliding to the side without moving my head.
His gaze lifted to the corner of the room to where I knew the red blinking light continued to flash, day in and day out. The damn thing never turned off.
“Five minutes,” he finally relented, carrying the magnanimous tone of someone granting a favor they didn’t have to give. “Just in the hall,anddon’t try anything stupid, or you’ll spend the next week in restraints, which will be more enjoyable for me than you.”
Perhaps I’d hurl all over him after all.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching for my upper arm as his fingers closed around my biceps, not gently but not brutally either, and guided me out of the room into the hallway.
“What’s your name?” I asked to distract him.
His fingers pressed harder into my arm. “Why do you want to know?”
“So I know what to scream when you’re making me come.” Gross. I can’t believe that actually came out of my mouth—no pun intended.
The dark glint of interest I thought I saw in his eyes flared. There was no mistaking it. “Oh, you’re one of the freaky ones.”
Hardly. I nearly snorted.
His grip loosened slightly as we walked, his attention clearly moving to his dick. The more he thought with that head instead of the one between his ears, the more distracted he was, right where I wanted him. I just had to make sure this didn’t get out of control, or I would regret this dangerous game I decided to play.
“Are you going to tell me your name or make me guess?”
“I thought you were sick,” he countered, eyes narrowing.
That’s when I saw my opportunity, a shadowy alcove near the stairwell where the overhead light had burned out, creating a pool of darkness perfect for concealment. As we passed, I moved, forcing my feet to trip over each other, which turned out to be easily executed, my body not precisely at full strength. I made sure to tumble into the guard, and as I bumped into him, my hand shot out, fingers closing around the phone clipped to his hip. The device came free with ease, and I shoved it into the waistband of my pants in one fluid motion.
His fingers landed on my arms, gripping them to keep us both from tumbling over. “Hey?—”
“I tripped,” I blurted out, cutting him off as I stumbled against the wall, my shoulder stinging. I let my knees buckle slightly, selling the performance while my pulse raced. “Sorry, I’m still feeling dizzy.”
He didn’t question it. Men like him never expected intelligence wrapped in a package they’d been taught to see as helpless. “You’re lucky I’m being nice about this,” he muttered, his eyes raking over my body as he moved in, trapping me against the wall.
The game was up. I got what I needed, and now I had to find a way to get back to my room without being taken advantage of. I had a plan for that as well. It should be fun…for me. The guard…not so much.
He grabbed my hands, pressing them to the wall as he imprisoned me with his body. He was too close, the scent of his cologne churning my already unsettled stomach. “Don’t get all weak on me now.” His breath was hot on the side of my face. So much for them not touching the girls. I had a gross feeling this wasn’t the first time blondie had gottenfriendlywith the wards.
Pressing my palms on his chest, I pushed at him. “I think I should go back to my room.”
