Chapter 23: Chapter 23: The “Boyfriend” Shirt

With no seconds to waste, I flipped open the phone and dialed in 911. I was about to press the call icon button until I saw a foreboding red circle-backslash symbol in the top right corner of the screen, where normally the four signal bars should be.

‘What?’

I felt the dreadful feeling wash over me as I rubbed my thumb over the symbol, hoping that by doing that, it would vanish somehow. I felt myself breaking out in a cold sweat when I saw it was still there and raised up my arm swinging left, right, back and front; praying that at least one bar would appear.

I cursed, grabbed the giant bear and threw it on the bed; stepping on it with my arm still raised up.

“Come on, come on.” I grunted, biting on my bottom lip, my arm so stretched out that I could feel the strain of it. And like a ballerina, I stood on my toes to elongate my height. But to no avail. The bars still didn’t appear.

Dejectedly, I slumped down, my knees landing back on the soft king-sized bed. I groaned loudly, pressing the palms of my hands against my face, slouching over.

“How the fuck isn’t there any signal here!?” I yelled, but not loud enough for Mr. Moore to hear me.

‘Am I in some type of underground dungeon or something!?’ I pulled down on my eyelids in frustration.

“Is everything all right in there?”

I jolted in surprise at the baritone voice that came from behind the door.

“Y-Yeah I am good!” I answered as I was floundering around putting the phone back in to the plushie toy.

The door was swung wide open and Mr. Moore strides inside, scanning the room before his gaze landed on me. “What were you doing?” He asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Hugging Mr. Teddy.” I shrugged as I pressed the giant bear against my chest.

His brow raised. “On the bed?” He questioned as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

I rose my eyebrows, giving him a questionable look. “Does it matter where I hug it?”

“Not really, but you were unusual quiet.” He said with an indifferent expression. “And let’s not forget that you said that you would be back in a ‘jiffy’.” He continued, emphasizing the word jiffy, making a quoting sign around it with his fingers.

My heart skipped a beat, worried that he was getting on to me. “I just wanted to cuddle with it on the bed. What’s so wrong with it?”

He gave me a pensive look and his lips twitched, forming into a grin; his eyes twinkling with mischievousness, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, baby.” He started, putting his hands beside me as he leaned on the bed caging me in between them. He hunched forward so that his face was close to mine. “There’s nothing wrong with cuddling on bed.” He took teddy from my hold, gave it an annoyed look and threw it aside as he puts his knee on the edge of the bed.

“Hey-!” I was about to berate him for treating my buddy harshly, but was swiftly rendered speechless as he pushed me into the bed. He was now hovering above me; his normal blue eyes took a darker shade, never breaking eye contact with mine. He trailed with his fingers down my neck. I took in a sharp breath, feeling my heart being catapulted out of my ribcage. “What’s wrong is that you're cuddling something which is not me.” He purred, his already low voice becoming even an octave lower.

“Get off me.” I gritted, pushing at his chest, but he won’t budge.

“But you wanted to cuddle, right?” He crooned sickly and attacks the crook of my neck with butterfly kisses.

I tried to wriggle away, but he held me down at my shoulders, going even harder at my neck, earning few moans from me.

He growled, pleased at my reaction. “That’s it baby moan for me.” He nibbled a little at my jaw and I yelped.

“S-Stop this Mr. Moore.” I breathed out, my breath shuddered at his heated touch.

He growls, irritated, and paused his assaults on my neck. His smoldering eyes met mine. The lower part of my body reacted in a certain a way that I don’t condone!

“Call me Mark.” He commanded.

“W-What?” I stuttered.

He raised up a little and stroked my lips with his thumb. “I want to hear my name from these kissable lips of yours.” He whispered lowly, his voice on the border of want and dominance.

I glowered at him, trying to conceal the combusted feeling that’s happening in the depths of my core. “But Mr. Moor is your name.” I said smugly, my grin very apparent.

He glowered and bit my neck. “Ouch! That hurts you fucking asshole!” I yelled.

“Don’t get smart with me kitten.” He warned and sucked hard on the same place where he had sunken his teeth in. I trashed around, not able to handle this foreign pleasure anymore. “Please stop.” I whimpered.

“Call me Mark and I will.” His voice sounded gruff. He slipped his hands under my blouse, his heated hand caressing my skin.

I yelped, flustered, and he groans. “Your skin is so soft, baby girl.” His voice sounded restrained, and I felt the panic in me rise worried as his hands slowly inched upwards.

“M-Mark, please stop!” My voice came out like a shuddering breath. His attacks on my body immediately ceased, and he retracted his hands, holding them up, giving me a smug grin.

“Good girl.” He said with a triumph expression as he helped me up from the bed.

I gave him a heated glare. “Fucking misogyny-arrogant-bastard.” I grumbled lowly.

He rose his eyebrows, looking at me with a never fading grin. “You want another go at it?” He asked.

“No.” I answered curtly, but his touch still affected my body. My lower abdomen was craving and crying for a continuation. I felt so frustrated by the carnal desires that I have for him, but I couldn’t let this bastard have his way with me.

I tried to walk, but my legs felt like jelly. It scared me that one more step would could lead me to stumble and my dampened panties I felt every time I clenched my tight didn’t lighten the situation.

The man who caused my body’s current state chuckled. “You need help?” He asked, but his voice came out seductive, giving his question a different meaning. Blood pooled in my cheeks.

“No, I don’t need your help.” I sneered defiantly.

‘I needed a shower.’ I thought and now that I think about it, I had slept for over 24 hours and since I had woken up, I hadn’t taken a shower, let alone brushed my teeth. The foul odor must emanate from my body now.

I felt shame well up in me at the thought that Mark had smelled that.

Regaining my posture, I eyed at him warily. “Can I use the shower?”

His smug expression morphed into a discontent frown, but it was soon turned upward. His gleeful smile returned and his eyes were gleaming with an unspoken plan.

“Of course you can it use. It’s ours, remember?”

His sudden change in behavior made me feel uneasy, although not uneasy enough to not want to freshen up and wash the icky-ness off me. Good God, I feel genuinely gross. I mean I can skip one day of taking a shower, but to skip brushing my teeth? Hell no. I can feel the grimness on my teeth every time I slide my tongue across of it, not a pleasant feeling.

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I kept my eyes on Mark as I slowly shuffled towards the door, making sure that he does nothing else.

Bemused at my weird movement, he let out a chuckle. “Why are you staring at me? Do you perhaps want me to join you?” He said, wiggling his brows.

I scoffed, giving him an eye roll. “You wish! Only in your dreams.”

He slowly stalked towards me, predatory. “We can make that wish and dream come true right now.” He said in a joking manner, but his eyes were serious.

“No. Thanks.” I said quickly and skedaddled out of there with my face bright red.

…

Entering the bathroom, I turned around to lock it, but there was no lock…

“Why isn’t there a lock inside the bathroom!?” I yelled. How can I take a shower knowingly that my fucking captor can come in at any moment?

“Because it gets annoying when certain people lock themselves in there. For your in formation there isn’t a lock in our bedroom either.” He answered. His voice sounded like it came right from behind the door, making it difficult for me to strip down.

“Don’t you dare come inside or help me God, I’ll castrate you!” I yelled, gritting my teeth.

“Scout’s honor.” He replied.

With incoherent grumbling sounds, I stripped down. My already bare feet touching the cold damp white tiles as I stepped under the shower. The lukewarm water spritzes hitting my back, soothing every body ache that I may had making me moan in delight.

I really needed this. Not only did the water wash away the grim of my body, but it also washed away my thoughts, giving me the moment to recoup myself. I also took the chance to wash my hair, allowing my scalp to breathe for once again. The only downside was that I had to use Mark’s shampoo, not sure if it will be alright for my hair. Next that it has the color of the flame making it super eye catching, it also has a curly twirly hair pattern. It always made me look like a lion, hence why I prefer it to be tight down.

Stepping out of the shower as I dried myself with a towel, I stared at myself in the mirror, snorting proudly at my appearance. My complexion looked brighter than before, my face slightly flushed from the heat, my lethargic skin was now rejuvenated and my normally untamable hair was thanks to the water weight down, revealing its proper length.

I reached my hand to grab for my clothes that I hung up on a rack to see that it got replaced with a fresh pair of clothes. My eyes were closed into slits and I balled my hands up into fists, trembling from the anger.

That bastard!

“Mark!” I roared.

“Yes, honey?” He chirped, his voice sounding awfully close.

“You said that you won’t enter, you rat!” I yelled.

I could hear a snort from the other side of the door. “I was never a scout.”

Petulantly, I crossed my arms before my still bare chest; glaring sharply at the door. “I will not wear this.”

“And I will not return your clothes, so you could wear the clothes that I gave you or you can walk out naked, which I prefer more.” He said mockingly.

My eyes shifted to the pieces of clothes, glaring at it before I hesitantly picked it up, glazing my eyes over it.

My eyes twitched, and my brows knitted together when I saw that something was still missing. “Where are my pantie and bra, you bastard!” I boomed angrily.

“There’s an underwear there.” He stated.

“It’s a boxer short.” I sneered. “And why haven’t you included in some pants!?” I said incredulously.

He groans. “Baby, we can banter as long as you want, but my patient is wearing thin. If a certain person doesn’t come out of the bathroom in five minutes, I will enter it myself, taking that said person over the knee.”

“I hope that’s not me.” I muttered lowly, but he still heard me.

“Kitten.” He warned.

“Fine!” I yielded, throwing my arms up.

“And don’t forget to tie up your hair. You’ll get everywhere wet otherwise!” He added.

I just groaned in response and dressed up, letting out a small sneeze, feeling the before hot steam turning cold.

“Hurry up! You’re already catching a cold!” He hollered. “I should turn on the heater before she really gets sick.” He mumbled, most likely thinking that I didn’t catch that, but I did and I surely started to feel warm again.

“Don’t rush me!” I retorted, as I finally pulled the shirt over my head. I gave myself a one over. The white t-shirt, that I am guessing was Mark’s, was baggy, swallowing me whole. It hung over my tights covering the black boxer short that were clinging on to my skin because of my wide hips.

In the end I didn’t tie up my hair, because fuck him. I hope everything gets wet, so that I can finally get under his skin.

I slammed the door open with an incredible force of a newfound goal, annoying Mark. Striding into the living room like I owned the place, staring down at my captor who was sitting on the couch, his head snapped in my direction.

His jaw went slack, his mouth agape, staring me up and down. “Fuck…” He said breathlessly. He slowly stood up, walking up to me with big strides. His eyes never waning away from me as if he was in a trance.

Me, who thought that he was so shocked that I did not tie my hair up in a bun, puts my hands on my hips, puffing up my chest proudly with a smug-eating-grin, thinking that I was finally victorious for once.

Oh boy, was I dead wrong.

“Don’t hit me.” He said and swiftly wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his upper body; cupping my face with his other hand. “What are you-!” I opened my mouth to demand what he was doing, but got quickly silenced when he smashed his lips against mine; massaging it in a slow, rhythmically way.

I stood rigidly and blinked a few times, trying to process that Mark was kissing me. When my senses came back, I tried to push myself away from him, but he kept my head steady with his hand.

Stunned, my mind got rendered useless. He took this as the chance to let his hands travel down, gripping a hand full of ass-cheeks, squeezing in it as he lets out a guttural growl.

I gasped, surprised and without missing a beat. He plunged his tongue inside, deepening the kiss and exploring every inch of it as if someone starved him for days. I moaned, feeling my mouth numbing as I was still trying to detach myself from his irresistible lips.

‘Why is he such a good kisser!?’ Something about his kiss was so mind numbing and unforgettable, giving me a hard time stopping myself from kissing him back and running my fingers through his hair.

His hand cupping one of my breast shattered the spell that he had put on me. Bringing back my knee, I full powered swung my knee up the place where the sun doesn’t shine.

He keeled over, clasping his jewels; letting out some bountiful profanities between his painful groans and grunts. He looked up at me, his face contoured in excruciation pain, turned red as if he lacked oxygen, his veins popping out on his neck.

“I said no fucking hitting.” He growled, pissed, but something in me tells me that our disconnected lips were the reason for his sour mood.

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