“Why? Because maybe someone will see I’m being held against my will and save me and get you arrested?”
Fiz just laughs and the menace of it rattles through me. “You think I’d bring you somewhere where they have no idea who I am? Bitch, please. You try anything here and you won’t just have me and Bobby to deal with.”
Fuck. I chew on my bottom lip.
His arm comes around my neck and pulls my face to his. His mouth comes close to my ear as he whispers, “Don’t be scared, princess. Like I said, if you’re a good girl, I’ll be very nice to you.” He releases me to drop his hand down to my ass and squeezes what little meat I have there.
I yelp and hop away but he grabs my hand and hauls me close to him.
“Don’t do that,” I hiss.
He just chuckles and leads me inside the massive DIY store. This is going to be hell.
He takes me down aisle after aisle, placing all sorts of ominous products in the trolley. Ropes, a massive toolbox, packets of screws, things I don’t even know what the hell are. This is the most walking I’ve done in weeks; my calves burn, my heels hurt, my knees shake. I suppose it’s good. I’ve got less than two weeks to gain some sort of strength to give me even the slightest chance of winning the bet.
Fiz takes us to the back of the store and starts assessing the tools in front of us. On the other side, there are planks of flooring stacked up, so I take the opportunity to park myself and rest my burning muscles.
Bob comes over to me and I clench up, but he only inspects my legs, sniffing around and looks up at me with those big demon eyes.
“Fuck off,” I whisper.
He tilts his head at me in that curious way dogs do, and I instantly regret it. Like this, he doesn’t look like a murdering machine.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.”
Fiz turns around, a small axe in his hand. The handle’s thick, his large hand gripping it and tilting it side to side lazily, as if testing the weight of it. “Are you talking to Bob?”
“No.”
His lips curl up in a sinister smile. “You totally are.”
I fold my arms. “He’s a better conversationalist than you are.”
Fiz chuckles. “I’d be better if you actually spoke to me.”
I huff. “Last thing I wanna do.”
He steps towards me, the axe swinging at his side. My chest tightens at the image, at the fleeting wonder of how many people have seen this image right before they died.
Fiz reaches my outstretched feet, looks down at them, then steps forward, spreading his legs to mount mine, locking them between his.
Everything tenses as he works his way forward, squishing my thighs between his. He leers over me, all imposing and intimidating. “I thought fucking me would be the last thing you’d want to do.”
I keep my eyes down, not wanting to catch those leering dark brown eyes. I look across down the aisle, not a soul in sight. “Anything to do with you is the last thing I’d do.”
The axe comes forward in my periphery, and my eyes glance to the side to see where he’s putting it. Fiz throws it in the air and catches the covered-blade side with effortless grace, handle pointing to my middle. I push myself farther back on the planks of laminate slats, putting distance between us, but then my back crashes into the shelf behind me. I have nowhere to go.
Fiz closes the distance again, dropping the handle down to my thighs and running it along the crease. Panic balloons inside me, sweat accumulating down my spine. He slides his baseball cap around so it’s on backwards, then he leans forward, a hand resting on the shelf at my back. He’s caged me in and my eyes spring to his, heart thundering in my chest.
“You ought to give me a chance, princess,” his voice is low and threatening, “I could make you feel so good. I’d love to hear you scream my name to the heavens.”
The axe pokes the top of my thighs and I flinch. “Fiz, stop.”
“Hmmm… wrong volume, but we can work on that. Maybe if I shoved this up your cunt, I’d get the cadence I’m looking for.” He presses the handle harder into my pussy and the friction sparks something deep inside me to life.
I still wince, grab hold of his forearm and force my voice to stay firm as I say, “That’s not going inside me. And neither are you.”
His chuckle heats the skin on my face. “Oh, honey, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”
