She doesn’t stir as I tuck her in. Something in my chesttugs as she peacefully sleeps, like she doesn’t have a care in the world—nothing to have nightmares over.
But her reminding me I’m not her first kidnapper settles uncomfortably in my chest like heartburn. I’ve spent too damn long in her house already. I should go.
“Sweet dreams, Princess.”
Daphne
How the fuck did I end up in my house?
Tristan
You should upgrade to a better security system.
Daphne
You broke in?!
Tristan
Well, technically, I was with the owner, and you had a spare key under the potted rose bushes. Not sure that’s breaking in, per se. Poor plant choice, by the way. They’ll get too much sunlight from the front of your house.
Daphne
But I like roses.
Good to know.I scroll through my burner phone and order two dozen red roses for delivery with one of the prepaid Visa gift cards I have stashed away in my sock drawer. I’m not enough of a creep to leave roses around her house like one of the characters in a book she talked about on a Bookstagram video last month. Maybe it’llsoften her up—make sure she keeps her end of the bargain.
Luckily, Daphne’s not going anywhere today—not without her phone and wallet. I’m not sure how she plans on retrieving those, but they’re probably in the restaurant’s lost and found box. Or maybe Connor took them.
It’s a shame that Representative McArthur can’t kill the bill if I kidnapped his son. It’s gone too far in the House of Representatives, and the next vote will determine if it gets moved to the Senate.
Looks like I’m going to have to send Congress a message.
I don’t have much time to waste if I want to stop this thing in its tracks. So, I make a call.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Morning, Princess. How’d you sleep?”
Anger shakes every note in Daphne’s voice as she huffs, “All the caffeine in my house can’t wake me up enough to deal with you right now.”
“Do you even have coffee? Your fridge was empty. I hope you don’t need milk in your coffee.”
“You invaded my fridge?”
“Yeah, right. I was in the mood for baking soda and ketchup.”
She groans into the phone. “Ugh, I’m not in the mood for this. I’ll call you back in like an hour. Let me shower and wake up first.”
“Are you sure you can’t?—”
“Guy!” she snaps. “Have you seenNatural Born Killers? Because, in the words of Mallory Knox, ‘don’t be so fucking eager.’”
The call ends before she hears me laugh. She acts all sweet and innocent in public—the perfect blond-haired-blue-eyed American girl next door… if you live next to the White House.
I’m reveling in this sassy side of her. She’s a brat. And my cock’s twitching at the thought of shutting her up and making her behave in the most wicked ways.
If I were a lesser man, I would have had fun with her tied up in my basement. By the time I’d gotten home from her house, there was still adrenaline pumping through my system. It took some lube and the memory of Daphne’s gorgeous tits framed with rope to make me cum like a rocket, hard enough to knock me unconscious until my alarm went off.
