His knees give way. He goes down. The one in the middle whose shoulder I hit, turns and my fist slams into the middle of his face. It’s going to take me three blows to get him down. My boot swings straight into his balls.
I’ve pulled the Sig, pointed at the short guy. Right in his face. Can’t take a chance now.
Number two bends forward, I swing a huge uppercut into his chin. His head snaps back, and he’s going bye-byes.
I grip the gun with both hands. Fully extended between the evil eyes of the short guy. He shakes his head, looks at his two friends and shrugs. Then he raises both palms, turns, and trots back the way he came.
Quickly, I move to the girl. Eyes gleaming wet, her face is more fearful than ever.
I lay a hand on her shoulder. Show her authority. Reassurance. I take a gentle hold of her chin. She looks up into my face, pleading. The look in her eyes, still vulnerable, still defiant, stirs me in my gut. My cock stiffens even more.
I tell her, “It’s fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks, Mister. But just because you saved me, don’t think that means you can have me.”
Chapter 5 Greta
I don’t know why I told him that. I want to believe it, even though I know it isn’t true. I’m his now. Like it or not, I can’t escape. He’s put down two men, chased away a third. Did he do it to protect me, or only so he can take me? Doesn’t matter. I want to be his.
His voice is so strong and dark, so reassuring, I want to believe him.
He’s forceful. Decisive. This man is what my father tries to project. Only he’s the real thing.
I want to ignore that and all the other feelings that are crackling around my body. From my hardening buds to the tingling stream of sensation between my legs, my body seems not to have noticed that, leaving aside the small issue of my not knowing if he’s friend or foe, he’s way too old for me.
I catch a scent of him. It’s like a gallon of tangy testosterone in strong coffee with whiskey.
Standing near, I taste his breath. Feel the heat of his body.
He looks at the tattooed men on the ground.
“They could come around any moment.” He opens the door to the wrecked building. There could be another hundred men in there, but he isn’t afraid. I don’t believe anything could make him be afraid.
He certainly knows what he’s doing. He walks in ahead, his gun extended in both hands.
I duck inside. He spots a metal bar and uses it to jam across the door, sealing it shut behind us. The place looks like it used to be a luxury hotel.
It’s not luxurious now. It’s a wreck. Everything is smashed and broken.
We’re on a cracked and crumbling landing, halfway up a huge staircase that winds down to what must have been the foyer. Through the dirt, planks, broken furniture, smashed bottles and other wreckage is the remains of a marble floor.
Broken skeletons of chandeliers hang lopsided in the well of the staircase. Footprints in the dirt on the stairs lead up to the landing here. I make out a single set going down, too.
He looks around, pointing the gun, down the stairs, then up. He runs up to the next landing. Checks in all the doorways. A total pro.
He comes back. Beckons. “Follow me.”
Without thinking I say, “My guardian angel.”
He almost smiles. “Guardian, anyway. I’m no kind of angel.”
Chapter 6 Logan
She runs into the big ballroom and still looks like she’s being chased by a pack of wolves. Her eyes dart around like a frightened animal.
I try to close the double doors behind us, but they’re broken and off their hinges. All I can do is to lean them roughly over the wide mouth of the doorway.
I want to keep her safe, but I might have to keep her quiet. Who knows what’s in this place. She runs into the far corner. I know she’s still unsure of me. But I feel that she wants to trust me. Her arms are together with her hands clasped up under her chin.
I can’t stop thinking about holding her. Restraining her. Her, struggling. thrashing in my strong grip. The ample, pliant flesh of her lovely young frame. That’s almost too much to bear. I have an overwhelming urge to protect her, but I have another strong urge, too.
I approach her, hands out, palms up. With as open a look as I can manage on my face. It’s not much of a face for doing anything, other than for occasionally scaring people.
“Please…” Her voice is thin. Her eyes are wet. I can hear the tremble in her throat.
“Don’t be afraid.” I keep my voice low and firm. “I’ll protect you. You are safe with me.”
I can see that she doesn’t believe me. But, why should she? As far as she’s concerned, I chased her all the way here.
“Those men. You…”
“Don’t worry.” I make my voice as gentle as I can. Like my face, it’s not naturally soothing. “Like I said, I’ll protect you.”
“Can you?” she says, and the need in her voice calls out to me. “Can you help me?”
“Yes ma’am. That, I certainly can.”
Seeing the gleam in her eyes shift and transform, from fear to trust, not completely, but enough to see the change, that melts my heart.
As she turns more to face me, taking a breath and making her chest swell, she raises her chin.
It’s a touching gesture of defiance, but also, as she lengthens her soft, white throat, showing it to me, it’s an acceptance of authority. Of command. She shows me that she is prepared to be mastered.
Before I even process it
