Corey
My hips writhe in a circle like I’m seeking out his hand again.
Traitorous body.
I’m so f*****g confused right now, I can’t think straight. A minute ago, I was sure Stefano planned to throw me over the Hoover Dam. Now I’m in a different kind of trouble, as he so eloquently put it.
It’s a much preferred trouble, despite my protests.
“Come here.” Stefano hooks his index finger through the zip-tie holding my wrists and tugs me further into his suite like a farmer leading his cow. It’s the same style suite Sondra’s been staying in here, with a kitchenette and living room area.
He doesn’t bring me to the bedroom, but to the kitchen, leaving me at the table while he gets a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I lean my butt on the table because my legs are too wobbly to stand. Stef
