Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
But never had my body responded to a man’s touch like it did with these men. Their fingers seared my skin, and a simple touch had my very core throbbing. My pulse pounded at the very thought of them.
Something had to be fundamentally wrong with me. I couldn’t understand how the memory of men pressing me against the wall in such an aggressive manner took my breath away every single time I thought about it. I definitely couldn’t understand how the thought of their looks, their tone of voice, their commands and orders, and even their fucked-up threats on my life only made me desire more of their dominance. Now that we were here, maybe I’d be able to figure out what part of my psyche allowed these men to have this power over me. Maybe, now that the dust had settled a bit, I could figure out what I truly wanted from the very men who drove me crazy.
My three captors.
I stepped away from the window and glanced around the room. As I made my bed, I couldn’t help but think I’d never take clean sheets, soft pillows, and warm blankets for granted again. Funny how being restrained in a dark shed made you appreciate all those little items you normally give no thought to. I smoothed the quilt. It was beautiful, made of colorful patchwork, and I wondered whose hands had stitched each piece. Had those same hands embroidered the tiny white flowers that decorated the bodice of the quaint nightgown I was wearing? The cotton was thin, soft, and decidedly old-fashioned, a far cry from the oversized T-shirt I’d normally wear to bed.
Pulling the gown over my head, I hurried to what served as a closet, opening the door to try to find something to change into. The men had assured me all my needs would be met. Since I didn’t exactly pack, I had to assume they’d provide me with something to wear. Inside the beautiful cherrywood armoire were several skirts, blouses, and dresses of all colors and designs. They were delicate and feminine, reminding me of the type of clothing Kit wore. Making my choice, I pulled on a peach-colored dress. The hem reached just below my knees. Slipping my feet into sandals, I looked at myself in the mirror on the outside of the armoire. The ensemble was lighter in color than I normally wore, but it wasn’t a huge change.
After running an ivory comb through my curly locks, I pulled my hair up into a loose bun, tucking stray strands into place with the bobby pins I found in a little dish on the dresser. Realizing there was no makeup that I could see, I shrugged. I had some items in my purse, but what were the chances my kidnappers had grabbed it on the way out the door? Since my store had become a crime scene, I would guess slim to none. Remembering my last sight of the shop had been of some poor dead woman, I pushed all thoughts of making up my face out of my head. Rye had said they hadn’t killed her, but… well, I might not have foundation or blush, but at least I still had my life.
With one last look in the mirror, seeing the pretty white iron bed with its quilt, the lace curtains, the rag rug on the floor reflected behind me, I couldn’t help but think it looked like I belonged in an ancient Southern Living magazine ad—Mountain Living edition. However, this wasn’t some photo shoot, and I wasn’t a model advertising the beauty of the simple, rustic life. While I didn’t know exactly what I was facing, I was honest enough to admit I wasn’t entirely miserable. It was time to start the first day in my new life, and hopefully I could pull this off. I didn’t want to be returned to the woodshed to be fucked by each one and to await my death. And it wasn’t just the threat of death for me to not want Kit to see her brothers as the monsters they truly were, because I knew it would hurt her far more than it would hurt them. She didn’t deserve to lose her happiness and light. She was far too good for darkness. So, if I was going to do this, it was going to be for her.
Not them.
Definitely not them.
Leaving my room, I thought about what this new adventure had in store for me. I wasn’t a stranger to cooking, but that had been when I had modern appliances, such as a food processor and a microwave on my counter. I had seen enough of the cabin to know it would most likely lack all I was used to. Plus, did I really have it in me to sit down and watch my kidnappers enjoy a meal that would take me most of the day to prepare?