Home > Obsession Mine (Tormentor Mine #2)(4)

Obsession Mine (Tormentor Mine #2)(4)
Author: Anna Zaires

His eyes meet mine, and my heart jumps into my throat at the icy rage shimmering in the silvery depths. Warily, I back away, the phone slipping out of my numb fingers to hit the floor with a metallic thunk.

I haven’t forgotten what Peter is capable of, what he did to me when we first met.

I can only take two steps before my back presses against the wall of the pilot’s cabin, ending my retreat. I have nowhere to run on this plane, no place to hide, and fear tightens my stomach as he steps closer, his furious gaze holding mine captive as he braces his palms on the wall on both sides of me, caging me between his muscular arms.

“I…” I should say that I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean it, but I can’t bring myself to voice the lie, so I clamp my lips shut before I can make it worse by telling him how much I hate him.

“You what?” His voice is low and hard. Leaning in, he bends his head until his lips graze the top of my ear. “You what, Sara?”

I shiver at the damp heat of his breath, my knees going weak and my pulse accelerating further. Only this time, it’s not entirely from fear. Despite everything, his nearness wreaks havoc on my senses, my body quivering in anticipation of his touch. Only hours ago, he was inside me, and I still feel the aftermath of his possession, the inner soreness from the hard rhythm of his thrusts. At the same time, I’m painfully aware of my hardened nipples poking through the borrowed T-shirt and the warm slickness gathering between my legs.

Even clothed, I feel naked in his arms.

He lifts his head, staring down at me, and I know he feels it too, the magnetic heat, the dark connection that vibrates the air around us, intensifying each moment until milliseconds feel like hours. Peter’s men are less than a dozen feet away, watching us, but it feels like we’re all alone, wrapped in a bubble of sensual need and volatile tension. My mouth is dry, my body pulsing with awareness, and it’s all I can do not to sway toward him, to remain still instead of pressing against him and giving in to the desire burning me up inside.

“Ptichka…” Peter’s voice softens, taking on an intimate edge as the ice in his gaze melts. His hand leaves the wall to cup my cheek, the rough pad of his thumb stroking over my lips and making my breath catch in my throat. At the same time, his other hand clasps my elbow, his grip gentle but inescapable. “Come, let’s sit down,” he urges, pulling me away from the wall. “It’s not safe to be up and about like this.”

Dazed, I let him shepherd me back to the seat. I know I should continue fighting, or at least put up some resistance, but the anger that filled me is gone, leaving numbness and despair in its wake.

Even after what he did, I crave him. I want him just as much as I hate him.

My sock-clad feet are chilled from walking on the cold floor, and I’m grateful when Peter grabs the blanket from the table and tucks it around my legs before sitting down next to me. He pulls the seatbelt over me, buckling me in, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see the warmth that now fills his gaze. As frightening as the darker side of Peter is, the man who’s doing this—the tender, caring lover—is the one who terrifies me most.

I can resist the monster, but the man is a different story.

Warm fingers brush across my hand, and cold metal presses into my palm. Startled, I open my eyes and look at the phone Peter just handed to me.

He must’ve picked it up from where I dropped it.

“If you want to call your parents, you might want to do so now,” he says softly. “Before they hear anything on their own.”

I swallow, staring at the phone in my hand. Peter is right; there’s no time to waste. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my parents, but anything is better than what the FBI agents are likely to say.

“How do I call?” I glance at Peter. “Is there some special code or anything I need to use?”

“No. All my calls are automatically encoded. Just put in their number as usual.”

I take a deep breath and punch in my mom’s cell. She’s more likely to panic at getting a call in the middle of the night, but she’s nine years younger than my dad and has no known heart problems. Holding the phone up to my ear, I turn away from Peter and watch the night sky through the window as I wait for the call to connect.

It rings a dozen times before going to voicemail.

Mom must be sleeping too deeply to hear it, or else she has the phone turned off for the night.

Frustrated, I try again.

“Hello?” Mom’s voice is sleepy and disgruntled. “Who is this?”

I exhale in relief. It doesn’t sound like the FBI got to them yet; if they had, Mom wouldn’t be sleeping so soundly.

“Hi, Mom. It’s me, Sara.”

“Sara?” Mom instantly sounds more alert. “What’s wrong? Where are you calling from? Did something happen?”

“No, no. Everything is fine. I’m perfectly fine.” I take a breath, my mind racing as I try to come up with the least worrisome story. At some point soon, the FBI will contact my parents, and my story will be exposed for a lie. However, the very fact that I called and told such a story should reassure my parents that, at the time of the call at least, I was alive and well, lessening the impact of whatever the agents will tell them.

Steadying my voice, I say, “Sorry to call so late, Mom, but I’m going on a last-minute trip, and I wanted to let you know, so you wouldn’t worry.”

“A trip?” Mom sounds confused. “Where? Why?”

“Well…” I hesitate and then decide to go with Peter’s suggestion. This way, when my parents learn of the kidnapping, they might think I went with Peter of my own free will. What the FBI will think is another matter, but I’ll save that worry for a different day. “I met someone. A man.”

“A man?”

“Yes, I’ve been seeing him for a few weeks. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t know that much about him, and I wasn’t sure how serious it was.” I can sense Mom is about to launch into an interrogation, so I quickly say, “In any case, he had to go out of the country unexpectedly, and he invited me to come along. I know it’s completely crazy, but I needed to get away—you know, from everything—and this seemed as good of an opportunity as any. We’re going to be traveling the world together for a few weeks, so—”

“What?” Mom’s voice rises in pitch. “Sara, that’s—”

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