unable to turn as he snaked an arm around her middle and kept her firmly in place.
“As you keep pointing out, we won’t get much time to shower. I think it’s best if we make the most of the time we have by sharing.”
“This isn’t sharing. This is you hogging my water. How am I supposed to wash myself like this?”
“Let me.” Masculine fingers plucked the soap and lathered it. One-handed, he then stroked the suds down her arms.
“So tell me, Layla. What other surprises have you neglected to share?”
Perhaps if she concentrated on past failures she could ignore the present, namely the erotic sensation his hand caused as it rubbed soap against her skin. His bare skin against her. His body pressed—
She swallowed hard. “You met the zap trigger at the front door. There’s one at the back, too. But that door’s also locked, deadbolted with a key on the inside, so not a feasible exit.”
“And he’s got the windows nailed shut.”
“Nailed and, in some cases, plywood covering them.”
“Have you ever made it outside?”
She nodded, her breath quickening as his hand stroked soapy circles on her belly. It was so hard to think with him touching her like this. “Yeah. I’ve made it outside a few times before he put the collar trigger on the doors. If you get past the screen porch, then you’ve got to watch out for a couple of huskies he keeps,” she confessed in a rush. His languorous rubs over her skin, even something as innocuous as her belly, had the oddest effect. She tried to ignore the heated liquid pooling between her thighs, the warmth of it much more scorching than this shower.
“Dogs, eh? I can handle those.”
“But they’re just a distraction from the men with the tranquilizer guns who guard the perimeter of the yard.” She’d learned about those in escape fifty-three. According to the master, they were placed there after her botched escape number forty-five.
Each time she failed, the master plugged the weakness she’d exploited.
Brody brushed a hand over her breasts, teasing the taut buds and making her breath catch.
“Tell me more,” he practically purred in her ear.
The whisper of his breath weakened her knees. “We’re about fifteen miles from the nearest small town.”
“Only fifteen?”
“Yes, and it’s not much of a place. Just a few houses, one general store.”
“Anything closer?”
“There is a cabin, about eight miles west. It means diverting from a straight beeline to town, but it’s good for supplies.” Escape number thirty-nine. She’d never returned. Food and clothes didn’t get her far on foot.
“More. I need ”—his hand glided down the slope of her body and he tickled the top of her pubes—“more. What about phones? Do the guards carry any?”
She swallowed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to react to his touch. Didn’t want to feel anything for him. Didn’t want to sleep with him. Damn him for making this so hard.
“The cellphones they have are programmed to call only one number, and it’s not the police.”
Nothing like dialing 911 and having the master’s robotic voice greet her with a chiding, “Bad, pet.”
As Brody cupped her sex, a shudder rocked her body. His lips practically caressed her earlobe as he said, “I want more, sweetheart. Give it to me. Give it all.”
As his finger stroked, seesawing back and forth against her flesh, she couldn’t help but lean her head back. “There’s a sniper on the roof. He’s a pretty good shot.”
“More.”
Yes, more. “There’s a ravine to the northeast. It drops into a deep river with a pretty fast current.”
She found that one by accident during escape thirty-eight.
The finger stroking her concentrated on one stimulating spot, and she couldn’t help but moan and rock her hips.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just a little bit more.”
“He…He…” The delightful torture kept wiping the words from her tongue.
He stopped rubbing. She could have cried.
“He
“As you keep pointing out, we won’t get much time to shower. I think it’s best if we make the most of the time we have by sharing.”
“This isn’t sharing. This is you hogging my water. How am I supposed to wash myself like this?”
“Let me.” Masculine fingers plucked the soap and lathered it. One-handed, he then stroked the suds down her arms.
“So tell me, Layla. What other surprises have you neglected to share?”
Perhaps if she concentrated on past failures she could ignore the present, namely the erotic sensation his hand caused as it rubbed soap against her skin. His bare skin against her. His body pressed—
She swallowed hard. “You met the zap trigger at the front door. There’s one at the back, too. But that door’s also locked, deadbolted with a key on the inside, so not a feasible exit.”
“And he’s got the windows nailed shut.”
“Nailed and, in some cases, plywood covering them.”
“Have you ever made it outside?”
She nodded, her breath quickening as his hand stroked soapy circles on her belly. It was so hard to think with him touching her like this. “Yeah. I’ve made it outside a few times before he put the collar trigger on the doors. If you get past the screen porch, then you’ve got to watch out for a couple of huskies he keeps,” she confessed in a rush. His languorous rubs over her skin, even something as innocuous as her belly, had the oddest effect. She tried to ignore the heated liquid pooling between her thighs, the warmth of it much more scorching than this shower.
“Dogs, eh? I can handle those.”
“But they’re just a distraction from the men with the tranquilizer guns who guard the perimeter of the yard.” She’d learned about those in escape fifty-three. According to the master, they were placed there after her botched escape number forty-five.
Each time she failed, the master plugged the weakness she’d exploited.
Brody brushed a hand over her breasts, teasing the taut buds and making her breath catch.
“Tell me more,” he practically purred in her ear.
The whisper of his breath weakened her knees. “We’re about fifteen miles from the nearest small town.”
“Only fifteen?”
“Yes, and it’s not much of a place. Just a few houses, one general store.”
“Anything closer?”
“There is a cabin, about eight miles west. It means diverting from a straight beeline to town, but it’s good for supplies.” Escape number thirty-nine. She’d never returned. Food and clothes didn’t get her far on foot.
“More. I need ”—his hand glided down the slope of her body and he tickled the top of her pubes—“more. What about phones? Do the guards carry any?”
She swallowed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to react to his touch. Didn’t want to feel anything for him. Didn’t want to sleep with him. Damn him for making this so hard.
“The cellphones they have are programmed to call only one number, and it’s not the police.”
Nothing like dialing 911 and having the master’s robotic voice greet her with a chiding, “Bad, pet.”
As Brody cupped her sex, a shudder rocked her body. His lips practically caressed her earlobe as he said, “I want more, sweetheart. Give it to me. Give it all.”
As his finger stroked, seesawing back and forth against her flesh, she couldn’t help but lean her head back. “There’s a sniper on the roof. He’s a pretty good shot.”
“More.”
Yes, more. “There’s a ravine to the northeast. It drops into a deep river with a pretty fast current.”
She found that one by accident during escape thirty-eight.
The finger stroking her concentrated on one stimulating spot, and she couldn’t help but moan and rock her hips.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just a little bit more.”
“He…He…” The delightful torture kept wiping the words from her tongue.
He stopped rubbing. She could have cried.
“He
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