Atlas - Roberts Alyne (читаем книги онлайн без регистрации .TXT) 📗

"Are you cold?" he asked behind me.

I shook my head and turned to face him. In the improved lighting, I could see his face better. His eyes were dark, and he had a straight nose and chiseled jaw. His suit was tailored to his body and had to cost more than several months of my rent. A scent of clean linen and fresh air complemented his groomed and perfect appearance. He was perfect and I swallowed, feeling entirely out my league.

He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, sending warmth through me. I was stuck staring at his deep, mesmerizing eyes when I noticed his smirk. With my fair skin, I was sure he could see the blush creeping into my face and spreading down my neck and chest. He confirmed that thought when his finger traced the low cut neckline of my dress, grazing the tops of my breasts.

"So soft," he said in a low voice. My head started to swim with the sensations.

How long had it been since I had been touched like this? Was it sophomore year in college with my last boyfriend before my life went to shit? Was it last year when I still had it in me to touch myself and enjoy it? Was it even before that when my mother would stroke my hair like she used to every time she saw me? Inside, the smart and fearful girl that I had become was telling me this man was a dangerous stranger, but the girl with life in her still soaked up his presence.

What harm could it be anyway? I planned to leave the next day for another state. I would start over and never see him again. It didn't matter if he thought I was easy or never called me after. In fact, that would be for the best. I promised Liddy, and myself, that I would give myself one last good memory in this city.

"Dance with me?" I bravely asked.

His eyes sparkled, and his hands firmly gripped my hips. Without the crowd of dancers, this was intimate and sexy. It felt empowering and reckless; something I hadn't felt in so long. I pressed my body to his and placed my hands on his hard chest. I could feel a steady heartbeat under my palm. It kept me grounded. It reminded me that we were both real and alive.

Even alone, the temperature rose between our bodies but it only made me cling closer to him, like I needed him to keep me from melting. One hand roamed up the open back of my dress, smoothed down my spine and played with the ends of my hair. With every thump of the bass, I grew more confident, and the little voice in my head who told me to be careful fell off her barstool. Having his hands on me and feeling how he liked it outweighed anything else.

He wiped some sweat off my forehead. Before I could cringe with embarrassment, he sucked the thumb he used into his mouth. His eyes closed and I could hear his low moan over the music and my pounding heartbeat. When they opened, they were burning with a fire and intensity I hadn't seen or noticed before. His other hand reached between us, pressing a fresh, cold glass to my lips.

Needing to cool down, I drank the cold liquor without hesitation. My eyes didn't leave his as I drank it down, letting it both numb and cool me. He watched the movement in my throat and I felt a strange sense of power over this man in front of me. I leaned into him to feel the hard intake of breath he took at the contact. The inner slut inside me grinned. I could do this to a man. I was stronger than I looked.

"Not that strong," I mumbled as I swayed, losing my balance and needing him to hold me still.

"What's that?" he asked with a sly smile.

"I feel like jelly," I giggled.

"You're alright," he assured me while he gripped my hips firmly. "I got you."

My head swam and my stomach rolled. The lights were too bright and the music became too loud. My limbs were too heavy to hold me up and I felt like I was suddenly melting, but not in the hot way.

II

Stella

My head pounded as I woke up. Every time I went out with Liddy, I ended up with a hangover. This morning was worse than ever. The pain was not just in my head, but my entire body. I didn't dare to move, in fear that I would just make it worse. I tried to remember how much I had to drink, but the memories were fuzzy.

Nothing felt right. The sheets on my skin were softer than my own bare mattress I was used to. My head was heavier than usual and I was positive that I had been sleeping too long. Slowly, I started to remember the night before. The hot guy who bought me a drink. Dancing with him alone. Trying to find Liddy to get a cab. A stranger carrying me from the club.

Panic slammed into me as I struggled to sit up but wasn't able to move. I was restrained with my wrists and ankles tied to a bed. A scream ripped from my throat. My wide eyes frantically scanned my surroundings, but I didn't recognize anything in the unfamiliar bedroom. A thousand thoughts raced in my terrified mind as I screamed for help and tears dripped down my cheeks. My worst nightmare was coming true.

"No need for all the noise." The voice cut through my own.

"Hello?" I choked. "Someone help me!"

He slowly shook his head as he came to stand at the end of the bed. I was severely underdressed compared to his black slacks and white collared shirt. Dark eyes trailed my body which was dressed in only my bra and panties. The dangerous look on his face made my heart race.

"Why? Why am I here?" I asked him.

"Because I want you to be," he simply answered.

I stared at him in disbelief. The man in front of me wasn't the charming and flirty man I remembered from last night. This man took whatever he wanted and had no concern for anything else. Although still gorgeous, he was terrifying. Everything in my gut last night had told me to run, but I had ignored it, thinking I was being paranoid. I was so very wrong.

"Please," I cried. "Just let me go. I promise I'll never tell anyone."

"I can't do that, Little Star," he said as he crawled over my tied body.

I squirmed underneath him, and I watched in horror as his eyes danced in amusement. He was enjoying watching me struggle. His lips titled up into that half smile that had me melting for him only hours ago. Instead of shivering in excitement, now it was fear. I was helpless and open to him.

"What's wrong? Not as turned on anymore when you're tied up?" he asked in a taunting voice. "Some women like it."

"I just want to go home," I whispered with my eyes closed tightly. I could feel the heat from his chest on mine. He was invading my mind and senses.

"And just where is that Ms. Harlow? Is it the tiny studio apartment on Southport? Is it in California? Or is it that bench in the cemetery you spend so much time at?"

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. "How do you know all of that? How do you know my name?"

He chuckled low, and I felt his breath on my bare chest. "You don't hide as well as you think you do, Stella."

I started to scream as loud as I possibly could. My lungs struggled to take enough air with his weight on top of me. I didn't know if anyone would hear me, but I needed to try. I wanted to live. My screaming was cut short with a hand tight around my throat.

"Shut up or I will make you," he hissed in my ear.

I had known this day would come. This moment was the one I had avoided for nearly a year. Every night, I woke with the fear of the moment they’d find me. I thought I had stayed invisible for long enough. Every day I survived, I believed that keeping my mouth shut was enough. I was so stupid to have thought that I could finally make a run for it and would be safe.