Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
So I tell him. I leave nothing out. My debrief takes less than a minute. It was a very short encounter. And this is not quite enough time for Brose to fully pull himself together, so he stands there, glaring at me, for another few minutes as I wait—my lust for him manifesting as a pool of wetness between my legs—as he internalizes everything I’ve said.
Finally, he lets out a breath and the pressure on my neck increases. I close my eyes, again moaning.
“Tell me how much you want it, Olive. Beg me to choke you.”
“Please,” I whisper, leaning into the pressure of his hand. “Please.”
His fingertips close down, just a little. Just enough to make me hiss. Then his hand is popping the button on my slacks, forcing itself inside until he finds my lust. His fingers slide back and forth across my sweet spot and this almost makes me come.
But he’s there—always there—cautioning me not to do it. “Hold it in, Olive. Because if you let it out, I’ll never touch you again.”
That’s the thing about Brose and me. He’ll throw a vase across the room, shattering it into pieces, but he would never hit me. Because I’d enjoy that too much and what is the point of punishment if I enjoy it?
No. The violence is my reward.
It satisfies a sick need inside me that craves pain.
The next thing I know, I’m on the floor, waking up. He did it. He choked me. I practically come just thinking about it as he drags me across the floor and over to the couch. Then he picks me up, bends me over the back of it, and fucks me in the ass.
I come so many times, I lose count.
And when that’s over, he sits, puts me across his lap, and slaps my ass until I come some more.
9 - Shep
Iwalk out of the bunkhouse Saturday morning at three-thirty am and find Collin leaning against Amon’s truck, waiting for me. He doesn’t look particularly agitated, but it’s dark and there’s a light above him, shining down at an awkward angle. So it’s all very ominous.
Amon is in the driver’s seat, leaning back, looking up through the open sunroof like he’s deep in thought. Both of them are smoking, which strikes me as odd and I search my memory for another time I’ve seen them smoking, but I can’t really recall.
Collin smiles a little as I approach, then drops his smoke and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. He opens the front passenger door, and I expect him to get in, but he doesn’t. He pans a hand to it, inviting me to take the front seat.
In my experience, a man only wants to sit in the back when he needs to keep an eye on the person in front. He’s not carrying, at least not obviously, and that’s a relief, I guess. But none of this is a good sign.
“Thanks.” I sigh, sliding into the passenger seat.
Collin gets in behind me and sighs as well. “Let’s go.”
Amon flicks his smoke out the sunroof, presses a button to close it, and then swings the truck around towards the road.
Once we’re on the Loop Highway—heading north, I think—Collin says, “Are ya nervous?”
I scoff. “It’s three-thirty in the morning and we’re driving four hours to Pittsburgh to scan my brain while you administer a lie detector test. What do you think?”
“I think,” Amon says, “if I were you, I’d be thinking about coming clean before putting these guys—who are clearly not fucking around—through all this trouble just to figure you out.” He looks over at me and grins. “But that’s just me.”
I look out the window, frustrated. “I’m not lying. And anyway, you guys didn’t even ask me any questions other than the ones about Charlie. I was recruited.”
“We know,” Amon sneers.
“Well, I didn’t ask to be recruited.”
“We know,” Collin says. “This is the problem, Shep. Charlie and I are not in a good place. In fact, he’s rather irate with me. If he sent you here to fuck something up, the least you could do is tell Amon to stop the truck, get the fuck out, and just walk away.”
“Would save us a four-hour fuckin’ trip to Pennsylvania in the middle of the night,” Amon says.
“And a favor with Penny Rider,” Collin adds. “You know who Penny is?”
I nod, but don’t say anything. Everyone knows who Penny is. At least, everyone on our level. She does the intake background checks for all the dark ops. She’s also the one you go to when you need something and don’t know where to get it. I’ve never actually used her in that way, I don’t have that kind of clout, or money—she accepts both as payment—but I’ve done two interviews with her over the years. She’s not military, she’s a contractor out of DC, but she might as well be military. She’s been doing background checks for forty-two years. She knows everyone. Absolutely everyone.