Chapter 22
Alexa
I opened my eyes, and I knew exactly where I was. I recognized the room, and my body was deliciously sore.
Luke had taken my virginity in a big way.
And I had loved it. Everything about last night had been exactly what I’d wanted it to be, except better. Better because it had been Luke and not some random stranger who had dominated me and taken my virginity.
I turned onto my side and looked at Luke, who was in bed with me. He’d slept on the couch every other time we’d been in the same apartment together, but the truth was out now. He’d wanted me for a long time.
A thrill rushed through my body. How often did it happen that your crush, of a pathetic number of years, felt the same way about you?
Luke lay on his back, one thick, muscular arm thrown over his eyes. That tattoo, “Determined,” stared at me. If not for that tattoo, I wouldn’t have been right here in Luke’s bed right now.
I let my eyes slide farther down the line of his body. His broad chest was chiseled, his abs moving up and down as he breathed deeply while asleep. The sheet covered his hips so I couldn’t see his dick, but it outlined it perfectly, and he was hard.
I smiled. For a moment I thought about touching him, waking him up with sex, but I wasn’t sure if we were there yet. I slid out from beneath the sheet instead and tiptoed to the bathroom. I tied back my hair and wrapped a robe around my shoulders so I wasn’t naked.
When I opened the door to the bedroom again, Luke’s icy eyes were turned toward me. He lay splayed out on the bed, rock hard, his dick pushing up the sheet, and he didn’t move at all to cover himself. He was proud of his cock, and he had every reason to be.
“You’re awake,” he said.
I smiled and nodded. “I’m going to make coffee.”
“I’ll join you in a minute,” he said.
I padded barefoot out of the room and walked to his kitchen. I found mugs and, surprisingly, good coffee. I hadn’t expected him to have anything fancy the way I did. I started the coffee maker and put milk and sugar in both cups while I waited for the coffee to brew.
Luke walked into the kitchen. He put his arms around me from behind and nuzzled his way into the robe to kiss my shoulder. I smiled and shivered.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
Luke hopped onto the counter, sitting with his legs dangling down. He’d put on a pair of boxer shorts but nothing else, and he looked delicious in the morning light.
“I can’t believe last night happened,” I said.
“Me either,” Luke said. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to fuck you, but the reality? And taking your virginity, holy shit.”
I blushed. He talked about it so easily.
The coffee was ready, and I was grateful for the distraction. I poured the liquid into both cups, stirred them, and handed Luke’s mug to him.
Luke took it from me, but his face was pensive, as if he’d gone somewhere else in his mind.
“What’s up?” I asked.
Luke shook his head and sipped his coffee.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, pushing him.
He was thinking about something serious, and lately, the only thing serious that occupied both our minds was Dalton’s death and the fact that Sam had gone missing.
“You, baby,” Luke said and flashed me a sexy smile. It would have worked, too, if I hadn’t felt like something was wrong. What was Luke hiding from me?
I leaned my hip against the counter and sipped my coffee. It burned my lip, and I blew on it instead.
“Have you heard from Sam at all?” I asked.
Luke shook his head and sighed. “Not at all.”
“I hope he made it to his cabin,” I said. Luke had told me that Sam had meant to disappear to a cabin far up north. That was all he’d told me.
“Me too,” Luke said. “I hate to think that something might have happened to him and he didn’t make it rather than that he’d just had to flee early.”
“He’s fine,” I said. “He got away and that’s good.” I didn’t want to think about the alternative. Luke could consider that something had happened to Sam, but Dalton’s death and all the destruction that had come with it had been bad enough. I didn’t wish that on anyone or their family.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
Luke shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”
I nodded, and we stood in the kitchen, drinking our coffee in silence.
“I have to go to work,” I said, glancing at the time. I put my half-empty cup in the sink. “I’m sorry to have to run. I’m late.”
Luke nodded. “I have to get dressed, too.”
He leaned down and kissed me, and a thrill ran through me. I could get used to this.
When I left his place, I felt a little guilty. I wasn’t heading to work. I thought it would be better not to tell him that I was going to meet with Sherry. He was hiding something from me, and it was childish to return the favor, but there it was. Besides, if he thought I was just driving to work, he wouldn’t follow me.
I drove back to my apartment to change into something else. I only had the patent leather BDSM dress with me, and it wasn’t exactly the outfit to meet Sherry in. I put on jeans and a blouse instead, slipping my feet into ballerina flats. I ran a brush through my hair, applied light makeup, and threw my phone into my handbag before walking out the door. I locked the door behind me.
Someone pulled a bag over my head, and I screamed, clawing at it.
I didn’t have much of a chance. My hands were roughly tied behind my back with a zip tie that hurt like a bitch. I screamed and shouted.
“Shut the fuck up,” a rough male voice said, and he hit me in the head.
It was enough to stun me, and I stopped screaming, but it wasn’t enough to knock me out. My breathing was shallow. The bag smelled sour, and I wondered how many heads it had been pulled over. Someone hoisted me over their shoulder, and it dug into my stomach, hurting me. I whimpered. I was still in shock, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything past the pain.
“Put her in the trunk,” the same rough voice said, and I heard car doors opening. I was dropped rudely into what I assumed was the trunk of a car, the car slightly giving way under my weight. I struggled against my restraints. The trunk closed, and I was plunged into an impossible darkness.
Claustrophobia threatened to choke me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t straighten my legs, and in my hands I felt pins and needles from my circulation being cut off. Tires squealed beneath me, the car taking off. Whoever was driving was in a hurry, and they didn’t care about me in the back. I rolled around like a bag of bones.
There were other objects in the trunk with me, something heavy and round that clunked whenever we turned. It hit my backbone, and I cried out. Every time they turned, I hit against one of the sides of the trunk, and it hurt like a bitch. I groaned and moaned and tried to steady myself, but I couldn’t do anything. Fighting the motion just made it worse.
Another few turns had me tumbling around until the car came to a stop. The metal cylinder that had rolled around with me came to rest against my hand, and I recognized it as a fire extinguisher. I fiddled with it. I found the handle and hoped to God it would work.
The car doors opened and closed, and I heard footsteps come around. Fear made me hyperaware. My heart raced and my throat was dry. The sour smell was overpowering, making my stomach turn. I had an idea of my position in the trunk. The opening would be at my back if I wasn’t mistaken.
When the trunk opened, I squeezed the handle. The extinguisher went off with a deafening hiss, and a man shouted.
“What the fuck!” someone else shouted.
“Get it away from her.”
They scrambled to get the extinguisher away from me. Someone was close to my feet. They should have tied my ankles, too, if they’d wanted to stop me. I kicked out as hard as I could and made solid contact with what I hoped was someone’s head.
“Fucking bitch!” someone shouted, and something hard came down on my head. Pain exploded like a white light before my eyes before darkness swallowed me whole.