How did my life come to this?
Trapped in a bathroom with a killer who’s violated me in more ways than I can count in a single day…
And not even caring that he’s seeing me naked.
I unbutton my baggy jeans and pull my underwear down with them.
I’m like an angry stripper, kicking my clothes toward the man who’s drinking me down like ice-cold water. Hunger burns in his eyes, and lust practically radiates from his heaving chest.
I should fear this, but I instead find myself calmed by the knowledge that his biology is working just fine.Even when my world flips upside down, at least I can count on the rules of humanity remaining constant.
I’ve spent the past four and a half years trying to wall myself off from emotions.
To analyze and understand humanity, I’ve done my best to not be a human myself.
But in a few mere hours, Brody’s placed giant cracks in every single wall I built. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Even sexually.
He’s forced me to experience things I’ve had little or no time to evaluate, and as terrifying as this entire adventure has proved, I’m better on my feet now than I was forty-eight hours ago.
I can’t remember the last time I was this angry. Or this clearheaded.
Right in front of Brody’s leering eyes, I settle on my next psychological attack.
The best way to win is by convincing your opponent that you’ve lost.
Lure them in with a false sense of security.
Unearned arrogance.
Brody’s kidnapped me, humiliated me, and touched me as though he owns me. I can’t out-muscle him. A whole fleet of angry Russian mercenaries couldn’t out-muscle him.
That doesn’t mean he’s immune to me, though, or that I have no recourse.
Despite that eight-pack he’s sporting, Brody has a weakness. Every straight man I’ve ever met possesses the same flaw, so far as I can tell.
They’re all fascinated by the idea of a woman wantingthem. Even when the notion of her attraction makes zero sense, the idea intoxicates them so much that they deceive themselves into believing.
With any luck, that’s what Brody’s doing at this very moment.
Stripping for him isn’t an act of submission. It’s my first real attempt to truly weaponize and wield the sexual tension. Lust is like a gun. Just because it isn’t mine doesn’t mean I can’t use it.
The idea that I’m some helpless victim waiting for my big brother to come save me burns me up inside. I’m not just some damsel in distress.
Finnwillcome for me, but when he does, I want him to see that I’ve been fighting just as relentlessly to get to him as he’s been working to get to me. I don’t want him to think of me as dead weight. As someone he’s got to hide away.
I want to be an active participant in my life, even when anyone else might cower and hide in a quiet corner.
This might be a strange time to feel emboldened, but here I am deliberately taking my time as I turn toward the shower, giving Brody a panoramic view of my body.
And if I enjoy the weight of his attention on me? That’s just a bonus.
I draw the shower curtain open and peer over my shoulder to find him staring at my ass. His eyes are like a physical touch, rippling over the back of my neck and down my spine. My tightly strung nerves coil even more, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.
The size of his erection, barely disguised beneath the towel, distracts me a few seconds too long. I tip my chin up, hoping my eyes will follow, and climb into the shower.
I pull the curtain closed slowly.Show’s over. Come back tomorrow.
Predictably, Brody yanks the fabric aside after less than a second.
