Chapter 66

Nan’s POV

His hands wipe away my stray tears.

His large warm hands cup my face tenderly. He presses slow kisses there. He softly kisses the sharp points of my cheeks…the tip of my nose...my mouth….

His lips are soft and cool against my flushed face. It is caring. It is sensual.

And then he works his way down. A kiss to the very top of the valley between my clothes breasts. I go to take off my shirt, but he stops me.

“I have something different in mind.” He says in a velvety voice. “Please, just relax…I’ll take care of the rest.”

I nod in a daze. Too emotionally worn to question his intentions. It all becomes clear as his hands slowly trace up my legs and beneath my skirt.

My breath hitches. I stare down at him from where he kneels at my feet. His eyes keenly watching me for cues.

I give the tiniest of nods. Unnoticeable to anyone not looking closely. The corner of his mouth twitches upward.

He lifts my skirt with smoothy motions. Then he gentles part my legs. He leans forward.

My arousal has already pooled into the fabric of my panties. I see his eyes dilate. A deep inhale.

‘The scent…it must be invading his sense at such a proximity.’ I realize. It only makes me wetter.

His eyes darken at that. A soft rumble builds in his chest. He slips his hands beneath the fabric and lightly tugs.

I lift my hips at his silent askance. The soaked fabric falls to the floor. Lionel stares greedily at the bare sight of me.

My breathing is heavy, nearly panting. Anticipating his next move. Lionel looks up and places a chaste kiss to my inner things.

Then he presses a soft kiss to my center. I let out a soft gasp. After that…I can only recall snippets.

Lionel lapping lavishly at my opening…Lionel exhaling on my mound, the hot breath making my folds quiver…the tip of his tongue slipping in, a kitten’s lick….my hands gripping his curls without control…his eyes black with pleasure glittering up at me…the smooth glide of his finger until he brushed that spot…

I reached the edge all too soon. My entire body arching in pleasure. Lionel’s rough grip on my hips was the only thing keeping me in the chair.

I am left panting. Sweat cooling on my skin. My heartbeat racing.

I look up just in time to see Lionel’s lick his fingers clean. His pink, plump lips glistening. Lionel catches my gaze and smirks like the cat who got the cream.

“Feel better?” He asks mischievously.

I snort. “Don’t be cheeky.”

He smirks at me once again. But our moment is stolen away. The loud ring of a phone breaks the afterglow.

I stand on shaky feet. Grab my previously discarded underwear and slide it back on. I turn to say something.

But I find myself unable to form any coherent thoughts. What could I say after everything? The day had been filled with so much information.

Being intimate with Lionel…had not been my intention. It was good. But I have not emotionally digested the truth of my past.

An awkward atmosphere arises between us. Neither of us speak. Or how to breech everything that has happened today.

“I…” I falter. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” Lionel replies lamely.

I leave the office. Trying not to seem as though I am scurrying away. Then I groan when I realize I will have to read bedtime stories for the girls after that.

‘Please don’t join us tonight, Lionel,’ I pray. But my prayers are for naught.

The routine is mostly the same. But the difference is the way in which Lionel openly stares. Seeing the girls share self-satisfied little looks at this change makes me want to cringe.

The next few days pass in a similar fashion. I alternate between flirting and avoidance. I feel bad about the whiplash I must be giving Lionel.

It is not until the end of the week that things take an unfortunate turn.

I am leaving work. Waiting on the driver to pick me up since the car I usually use is in the shop. I am walking past a car when someone steps out of it.

I immediately turn my attention that way. Not liking the situation. My unhappiness expands when I realize the face I am looking at.

I look into the face of my ex-boyfriend…David.

I go to walk away. But he stops me. “Not so fast, bitch.”

“Didn’t you swear I would never see your face again?” I spit back. “But then again, you are good at breaking promises.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarls back.

I do not like the openly hateful look in his eyes. David has always tried his best to mask the ugly parts of his personality. Him confronting me like this in a relatively public setting…it concerns me.

“What do you want?” I bite out.

“What do I want?” He laughs bitterly.

“I want what I am owed.” He bares his teeth.

‘What he’s owed?’ I think incredibly. I purse my lips together.

An expression of distaste makes its way onto my face.

“You need to leave me alone. Or I’ll call security. I mean it, David.”

He growls at me. But I refuse to be intimidated. “Don’t forget who I am working for.”

My reminder does not have the desired result. David does not back off. Instead, he moves closer.

‘I need to go back inside,’ I think. My eyes move toward the building doors.

David does not like that. He suddenly grabs me. I go to yell but am stopped by his hand over my mouth.

He roughly shoves me into his car. Fear is taking me over. He locks the doors before I can move.

‘How did I get into this situation?’ I want to scream. I try to yank the lock up.

But it will not budge. I raise my fists to hit the windows. Hoping someone will see or hear me.

He grabs my arms in a bruising grip before my hands make contact. I yelp. His other hand reaches for me.

I flinch away. Thinking he will be hurting or touching me in some way. But his hand slides past me to my purse.

I try to hold onto it. But he shoves me against the door and yanks the purse from me. My head bangs hard against the roof.

“Ow.” I cry. I put my hand against my head to make sure there is no bleeding or bumps.

‘Small mercies.’ I think when I find nothing. David has dug through my purse in that short time.

He eventually dumps everything onto the console when he does not find what he is looking for. My phone falls onto the floor.

‘My phone!’ The thought is like lightning to my panicked mine. ‘I can call for help.’

There is no telling what David would do if I did. It would take a while for help to arrive. But it’s better than being possibly kidnapped by him.

I reach with fast hands toward the floor. But David’s reflexes are faster. His meaty hands snatch my phone before I can grab it.

“David, what are you doing?” I exclaim fearfully.

He does not respond to my question. He opens the back of the phone and takes out the battery. Then he pockets the battery.

My phone is tossed carelessly onto the floorboards. It is only then that he turns toward me fully.

I am taken aback at his appearance. Before I had been too busy trying to get away to really pay attention. His appearance is shocking.

His normally gelled hair is greasy and unkept. He is wearing sweatpants and a dirty t-shirt instead of his expensive, off-brand suits. His mustache is unruly and clearly neglected.

His watery blues eyes are blood-shot…making the blue standout uncomfortably bright. I dated him before his success…but never have I seen him look so awful. He has a very dark look in those eyes.

My danger alert springs back to life. I already knew I was not safe. Getting a close look at him has only worsened the little optimism I held.

I have been taken by my clearly unhinged ex-boyfriend…with no way to escape of call for help.