Read Save Riley Online

Authors: Yolanda Olson

Tags: #jax, ##SaveRiley, #Save Riley, #jaxton, #yolanda olson, #dark romance, #Erotica, #riley

Save Riley (4 page)

“You misunderstood,” he said with a chuckle. “What I meant was that I will pay for you to get to your parents’ house after I check in and when it’s all over, I’ll pay for you to come back to the hotel the night before we leave.”

I glanced at the keys on the console and back at Jax, “When
do
you plan on starting this thing anyway? I mean, we can have this chat on the way to your hotel, can’t we?”

“Yes, Ms. Riley. We can.”

He grabbed the keys and slid the larger one into the ignition, bringing the engine to life. I made myself comfortable in my seat as he strapped the seat belt against his broad chest. For the trip he had worn a casual black shirt with the sleeves rolled just above the elbow. He wore dark red True Religion denim jeans and expensive looking black deck shoes with no socks.

Jax stretched his arm out and put a hand behind the headrest of my seat and I watched his arm flex as he put the truck in reverse. It took everything in my power not to reach out and run my hand down his arm.

“It’s the accent, isn’t it?” I asked, fighting my urges and turning on the air conditioner. I was suddenly sweating and I didn’t want him to notice.

“What?” he asked, pulling his arm away and putting the car in drive.

“Your accent, New South Wales,” I said with a laugh, “It gets the girls every time doesn’t it?”

“It definitely helps,” he replied with a chuckle.

Half an hour later we were pulling into the Windsor Court Hotel parking lot. My eyes widened as I looked at the building in front of us. Obviously this was going to cost him a pretty penny.

“This ... looks expensive,” I said.

“It is Ms. Riley. But in the end it will be worth it. Now wait here; I’m going to go check in and then I’ll return to collect you,” he said, getting out of the truck.

I nodded and watched him reach into the back of the SUV and grab a hooded jacket. He pulled it over his head and gave me a small smile, before walking into the extravagant hotel. I sighed and undid my seat belt. Check-ins didn’t usually take very long so it knew it would be no time before Jax was back. I pulled down the visor and flipped open the lid to the small mirror and looked at myself. I wasn’t quite sure what it was about me that commanded his attention as much as it did, but he seemed to be attracted to me for some reason.

I mean I didn’t think I was bad looking, but I knew I wasn’t “hot” either. I had a bad habit of dying my hair to hell and back, so I had threw a box of black into it and called it a day. I was also tired of cutting it so much; now it sat past my shoulders. My face was a little fuller than most and I had maybe an extra five or so pounds on me.

What the hell is he seeing?
I wondered, squinting at myself.

I rolled my eyes and closed the visor. I turned my attention to the people who were walking to their cars on the other side of the parking lot, when a strong hand went over my mouth. A small pin prick of pain into my neck followed. It all happened so quickly that I never had a chance to fight back.

And that was the last thing that I can remember.

Seven

I
wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep or what the hell had actually happened. The headache that was radiating throughout my head was absolutely blinding, but past it all I could almost swear that I smelled the ocean somewhere.

That’s ... weird. There aren’t any oceans near Cheyenne.

I opened my eyes finally and put my hand to my forehead. The blast of sunlight that crept its way through the wooden shuttered windows caused me to grunt in pain and close my eyes tightly.

Maybe I had fallen and hit my head. That had to be it, right? I’d never felt such a horrible headache before in my life. I forced myself off of the bed and looked around the room, completely unfamiliar with my surroundings. I looked down and saw that I had been dressed in a light blue, delicate over shirt that hung open with no way of closing it. Underneath it was a white bra, a pair of very short white denim shorts, and not much else. I felt naked honestly.

I decided to get to my feet and walk over to the window to take a peek outside and inhaled sharply. The beautiful white sandy beach and the crisp blue waters were rolling gently on the shore. I was dressed like the scenery outside. I felt like in a way, I was meant to be a reflection of the Utopia outside the window.
What are the chances that I’ve died and gone to Heaven?

I heard the sound of deep laughter suddenly ring out through the house somewhere and I jumped. I obviously wasn’t alone. I took a deep breath and walked barefoot across the softly carpeted floor toward the door of the enormous bedroom and slowly opened it. It was already slightly cracked so I was able to easily slide my fingers around it and pull it back toward me.  Another boom of laughter wafted up the stairs toward me. Yes, I was upstairs; that much was obvious from the view I had when I looked outside.

I bit my lip tentatively. I didn’t recognize the laugh but if this person wanted to hurt or kill me, wouldn’t they have done it already?

Stop being such a chicken, Riley.

I chuckled quietly at my inner heroine as I liked to call her and walked out of the bedroom. Wherever I was, the house was kept extremely neat and the hallway seemed never ending for some reason. I moved as quickly as I could, my feet muffled by the same carpeting that was in the bedroom. It was weird honestly but it helped me quietly navigate toward the staircase, which by the way did
not
have the same carpeting. Instead they seemed to be made of some kind of expensive stone.
Marble? Limestone? Does it matter?

I put a hand to my mouth to stop myself from giggling. My inner heroine could be so sarcastic sometimes.

My feet slapped against the cold, hard stone as I made my way down the steps. I heard the sound of what I assumed to be the television lowering as I continued down. Even the stairs seemed never ending for some reason, but soon I was standing on the main floor, which was as cold as the steps.

I wrapped my shirt around myself and decided to head toward the sound of the quieted voices and see who it was that lived here. I knew I had to be careful, so as I passed doors, I made mental notes of how many steps it would take to get to them. I wanted the nearest exit handy just in case I needed to barrel through it.

“Hello?” I called out nervously.

The only response was the sound of a chuckle that echoed into the main room I was standing in. I shifted from my right foot to my left and stared at the open doorway of the room to my right. That’s where the sounds of the television had drifted from and that’s where the chuckle had just come from.

“Hello?” I repeated.

“Come in,” the voice said.

I had seen horror movies that started like this. It was almost like going into the basement when you knew the world’s most horrible things tended to happen in there, but you went anyway.

I cleared my throat and walked into the spacious living room. I stopped short when I saw a man sitting with his back to me, sitting on the arm of the couch. His body was absolutely immaculate; one that you wanted to reach out and touch even though you knew it would lead to deep, dark sins. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and it looked like black athletic shorts, but I couldn’t tell from where I was standing. I craned my neck to see what he was watching but couldn’t see past him.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

He turned his face slightly and I saw the smile that was sitting on his face. His gorgeous lips curled at the edges and I felt a shiver go through me.

“It’s about time you woke up. You’ve been asleep for days,” he replied.

His accent was absolutely amazing and even though it was a bit hard for me to understand some of his words, I wanted to just sit next to him and listen to him speak.

Find out who he is and where you are before you fawn all over him.

“So, um. What’s up?” I asked, pulling the shirt tighter over myself.

He chuckled again and turned his face back to the television.

“How’s your head, Ms. Riley?” he asked conversationally.

“It hurts a bit,” I responded truthfully.

“It’ll go away soon. I promise,” he said turning the volume up a few bars.

He cleared his throat and continued watching whatever it was that I had interrupted him from. He was hunched over where he sat and after a few moments, he leaned over to the table next to him and placed a hand towel down, before setting an empty bowl of cereal on it. Well, almost empty; I could still see some milk and a few pieces of whatever it was at the bottom of the bowl.

He stretched his arms over his head before sliding down onto the couch cushion and interlacing his fingers behind his neck.

I stood there uncomfortably waiting for some further kind of acknowledgment, but I didn’t receive any. Instead he continued to laugh at the program he was watching, shifting on the couch every now and then. 

“This is a very nice house you have here, Mr. ...,” I said, capitalizing on the fact that commercials had just started rolling.

“Whitlock. Thank you, Ms. Riley. I’m glad you like it,” he replied.

Okay, I don’t know any Mr. Whitlock. I need to get out of here.
I took a few steps backwards, listening and agreeing with my inner heroine. Something about him not turning to face me or acknowledge my presence was starting to scare me.

I turned around and walked as quickly as I could to the closest door to the living room. The main doors to the estate I was in were tall and thick.  There were topped with beautiful arched windows that allowed the sunlight to have secret glimpses into the home of Mr. Whitlock. 

I quietly put my hand on the wrought iron door handle and pulled down. But it didn’t budge. I gave it a wiggle and tried to push down again and nothing.

“All the doors in the house and on this property require separate codes to open and close,” Mr. Whitlock said.

I jumped and screamed in shock, turning to face him. He was sitting on the stairs watching me with a look of amusement. And dear God was he beautiful. So beautiful in fact, that I didn’t realize I was standing there the closest to being naked in front of a man as I ever had been, until he leaned back against the steps and let his eyes wander down my  body. I quickly pulled the shirt around myself feeling my face turn crimson from embarrassment.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, Ms. Riley. I quite enjoy looking at you. I have from the first day I saw you,” he said quietly.

“How do you know my name?” I finally blurted out.

He looked at me suspiciously for a moment, before a look of understanding dawned on his face. I watched Mr. Whitlock as he got to his feet and make his way toward me. He stopped a few inches away from me and ran a finger down the side of my face.

“It will all come back to you, Ms. Riley. You’ll remember who I am and why you’re here. You’ll remember the deal we made and you’ll remember what I expect of you so far. I would, however, like to make a small request,” he said in a soft tone.

I was so mesmerized by his touch that I knew I would damn near agree to anything he wanted from me. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as he used his other hand to gently pry my hands away from the shirt. He slid his hand around my waist and pulled me close to him.

“Yes?” I asked in a whisper.

Mr. Whitlock leaned his face down toward me, his lips hovering a mere breath away from mine.

“I want you to take your clothes off. I want you to come upstairs with me. I want to fuck you, Ms. Riley. I desperately want to feel you from the inside. I want to revel in you tightening around me,” he whispered, pressing himself against me.

What?

I snapped out of my “trance” immediately and pushed him away. I wrapped the shirt around myself and stepped back until I was flat against the door.

“No thank you,” I replied evenly. “I don’t think I want my first time to be with a total stranger. In fact, I
know
I don’t.”

He smiled as he put a hand on either side of my face. He had me trapped against the door and a half smile was sitting on his gorgeous face.

“Your first time?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“But it wouldn’t be your first time, Ms. Riley,” he replied mysteriously.

“Mr. Whitlock, I have to disagree. I have yet to have sex. With anyone. Now if you would be so kind as to punch the code into the door, I’d like to get the hell out of here,” I said uneasily.

“I understand,” he said with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the door next to me and pursed his lips before he spoke again. “I won’t let you out just yet since that would be a violation of our agreement. And as for my request; I just thought you’d want to be awake this time to enjoy it.”

Eight

I
was sitting on the bedroom floor absolutely numb to his words;
I just thought you’d want to be awake this time to enjoy it.
Was he telling me the truth? Was it a mind game? How would I ever know?

Mr. Whitlock’s footsteps echoed as he started to climb the stairs. I got to my feet and looked around for a way out.
The window. If I jump it won’t kill me, it’ll just hurt like hell.
I took a deep breath and made my way toward the window quickly. His footsteps intensified as I put my hand on the pane and started to pull with everything that I had inside of me.

“Open,” I grunted urgently.

Fuck. This goddamn thing is stuck!

“You need a code to open the windows as well,” he said from the doorway.

“Let me out of here!” I screamed as I stubbornly pulled on the window again.

Mr. Whitlock approached the window and gently pulled my hands away from it. He held them up for a moment, almost as if inspecting them, before he let me go and went to sit on the bed.

“Ms. Riley, I need you to calm down. Stop trying to leave and stop yelling,” he said tiredly. “I will
not
let you out until we’ve fulfilled our agreement and I will
not
tolerate raised voices in my home unless they are mine.”

I ran out of the room and he sighed heavily behind me. There had to be a way out of this place and I was going to find it. I was standing in the hallway wringing my hands knowing that going down the stairs wasn’t going to lead to anything other than more coded doors, so I ran the other way and started pulling on doors. Doors that wouldn’t open; doors that had small electronic pads under the handles.

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