Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
But I see that I have grossly underestimated what a pain in the ass this woman will be. So I sigh.
“Listen,” she says, clearly interpreting my sighing as frustration. “I wasn’t trying to escape. I just needed you to come help me. I can barely talk, mister. I can’t swallow. My mouth is so dry, my lips are cracked and bleeding.”
“It’s only been an afternoon, lady. You’re fine. It was a panic attack.”
“I’m not fine! Look for yourself. I need water. Now.”
I flip the t-shirt up and study her mouth.
“Please,” she begs.
The corners of her mouth are dry and if I look real hard, I can see a few speckles of blood, so maybe it stings a little—like a papercut—but she’s really overreacting. However, it’s not that hard to give her a drink and let her use the bathroom. Especially if it’ll keep her quiet for the rest of the day. So I guess I’ll do that.
I grab hold of her upper arm and tug. “Come on, stand up.”
She lets out a long breath, like she’s been holding it in. Then she manages to get to her feet with my help.
I push her in the direction of the stairs and then grab her shoulders to make her stop at the bottom. “I’ll untie your hands, but if you run, or do anything to even make me think you’re gonna run, I will throw you back down these stairs and leave you here for good. Do you understand me?”
She nods her head enthusiastically. “Yes. I understand. I won’t, I promise.”
“The blindfold stays. If you touch it, you’re dead. If it even accidentally falls down, you’re dead. If that blindfold moves in any way, you’re dead. Do you understand me?”
“I won’t touch it, I swear. Just please, give me something to drink and let me use the bathroom.”
“Fine.” I release the belt from her wrists and notice that the leather, while soft because I’ve had this belt for years, has cut into her wrists. If I were her, this is what I’d be complaining about, not those pinpricks of blood at the corners of her mouth. But whatever.
She groans as her shoulders bunch up and she stretches out her arms. “Thank you.” It comes out mumble-y and low, like she doesn’t want to feel grateful for the relief, but is obligated to nonetheless.
“Let’s go. I’m busy and I don’t really have time for this.”
“Well, you don’t have to keep me. I won’t say anything, I swear.”
I don’t even bother responding to that with words, I just simply scoff and give her a good push right between the shoulder blades. “Go.”
She reaches out with her hands, feeling for the stairs, then she starts climbing, using her hands to guide her up since she can’t see. This affords me a good look at her backside. Her dress is light green and tight. It’s all stained with grass and dirt, since I did tackle her in that flowerbed. But that can’t hide the fact that she’s got a nice ass.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Clover. What’s yours?”
“Clover?” I laugh as we get to the top. “That is such a West Virginia name, I don’t even know what to say about it.”
“No, it’s not. It’s a very normal name. And you didn’t answer my question, what’s yours?”
“It so is. I’ve never met anyone named Clover. And you’re not getting mine. If, by some accident you do get mine—”
“Let me guess,” she interrupts, her tone dry and empty. “I’m dead.”
“That’s right, you’re dead.”
“You throw that threat around pretty easily. Like it’s just another word for you. What are you? Some kind of serial killer?”
I huff. “Do you want to go to the bathroom and get a drink or not?”
“If my other choice is getting pushed down the stairs, then yes. I choose bathroom and drink.”
“Good. Then keep quiet and walk.” I grab her shoulders and push her down the hallway towards the bathroom.
It’s her house so she doesn’t need to see to know where it is. She places her right hand on the chair rail and follows it all the way to the little powder room. Then she pauses and aims her face in my direction. “Is the bathroom stocked with necessities?”
My laugh comes out unexpectedly. “If you mean toilet paper, then yes, Your Highness, it’s stocked with necessities. You’ve got one minute.”
She walks forward, feeling the panels on the door, then she starts pushing it closed.
I kick my foot forward, putting an end to that immediately. “The door stays open.”
Her scorn comes out in her tone. “So you can watch?”
“Woman, I’ll watch anything I want. But no, I’m not into bathroom kink. I’m just done taking chances with you. Now hurry up, or you won’t go to the bathroom at all.”
I’m pretty sure she’s weighing the idea of not using it, but she gives in pretty quick and blows out a frustrated breath of air with her words. “Fine. Turn your back, though.”