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The rest of the movie is uneventful, but I never feel at ease with them. I’m on high alert the entire time in anticipation of what comes next. It almost scares me more that we make it through the rest of it without incident. By the time the credits are rolling, I realize I’ve barely paid attention to a single second of the film. I was too caught up in a daze of uneasiness and dread. Expecting them to do something crazy at any minute.

But no. The credits roll and we stand to exit the theater. I realize whatever they’re planning will probably happen now and my heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe as we approach the car again. I wish I could be back inside, not paying attention to another movie.

This time, Vincent drives and Trey sits in the passenger seat, leaving me alone in the back with Emmett. At least there’s some distance between us.

As soon as I have the thought of gratitude, his arms wrap around me tightly, one hand wriggling down to unbuckle my seatbelt before he drags me into his lap.

“What the fuck are you doing!?” I shout, kicking and squirming to get away.

“We’re gonna take a little drive,” he explains in a hauntingly snide tone. “And I want you close to me.”

All I can think of is the last time these fuckers took me for a drive, and the time after that when Emmett tried again to lure me away in his car. My hands and arms flail frantically for escape, but he quickly grips onto me in every direction. He holds me down long enough to secure his stretched seat belt over the both of us. With one arm held firmly across my chest, holding my arms down, a black cloth falls over my eyes.

“No!” I yell hopelessly, not wanting to be blindfolded. But the cloth ties tight across my vision, blocking out the outside world. “Emmett, please…don’t do that!”

Vincent and Trey cackle. They love it when I’m struggling.

I finally give up and grow still, surprised by how quiet Emmett is beneath me. His hands move up my arms, making their way to either side of my head as he strokes my hair.

“Shhhh,” he hisses into my ear like a snake, smoothing down both sides of my face in some twisted form of comfort.

I remain perfectly still, my pounding heart beating through both of us as I’m forcefully latched in his lap. Like a scared rabbit who finally gives up and goes limp in the arms of its captor.

The car drives off into the night, me bouncing around in Emmett’s lap with every bump of the road. I can feel the stiffness in his pants against my thighs as he keeps his mouth close to my ears so that I can hear every deep, hot breath that burns against my skin.

I stay focused on trying to time how long we’ve been driving. I know it’s an impossible task, but maybe even if I don’t know where our final destination is, I can have some idea of how far it is from the theater in any direction. It’s the only thing I know to do. But even that seems futile as Emmett’s hands move over my skin in the dark.

“Hey man, let us have a go at her,” Vincent blurts suddenly, sending chills down my spine. “We can pull over somewhere on the way.”

Well, at least I know they would need to pull over on the way, meaning that’s not the end goal when we get to wherever we’re going. But I should know better anyway. The stakes are higher now as things are coming to a head with my father. Their fucked up sexual assault games are on the back burner now. Just a fun side perk for them as they hold me captive.

“Drive,” Emmett demands coldly, stern enough to scare me. I can only hope it’s as effective on his friends.

“Maybe we should just tell Vivian then,” Trey taunts, staring us down threateningly in the rearview.

“She knows what I have to do,” Emmett answers despondently. The threat doesn’t stop his hands from creeping across me. He keeps my hands sandwiched at his sides, in between his chest and arms. Leaving me helpless as he runs his palms across my knees and up my thighs. He lingers too long at the tops of them, in between my legs.

In the darkness, knowing it would be undetectable to anyone but Emmett, I give in. I cave under his touch, leaning my head back against his chest in submission as he explores my body. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a choice anyway. Or because of all the tension that has been building since the first time we met. Or perhaps it has something to do with knowing I mean enough to him to stir up trouble with his girlfriend. Whatever it is, I decide not to fight it. He says nothing to acknowledge my sudden willingness. We both seem content to steal the time we have.

The muscles and folds between my legs swell with warm wetness as he clenches my inner thighs. I wish he’d move up higher, forgetting for a moment that we’re not alone. But he moves up to my stomach, working his way under my shirt and sliding up across my abdomen. My hips buckle and my back arches, sending my tense abs further against his hands as his lips graze my neck and ear.

“Good girl,” he whispers so soft that only I can hear it.

It almost kills it for me, causing me to recoil slightly. But as his hands move up to my ribs, I melt back into the touch. I’m putty in his hands. Just as his thumbs graze my bra across my hardened nipples, causing me to bite my lip to suppress a moan, his body straightens. He goes tense beneath my body and pulls his hands away. My shirt is swiftly tugged back down over my breasts, feeling cold in comparison to the warmth of his touch.

“We’re here,” he blurts coldly with a gentle smack to my thigh.

I am left unfulfilled and reeling. So much that I almost forget to be afraid of what happens next.

18

Chapter Eighteen

I find my way down from whatever crazy plane of existence I was just on with Emmett as the car rolls to a stop, crunching across a driveway. I laugh once he slips the blindfold away.

They’ve brought me to Jameson Manor. Everyone knows where it is, meaning they never needed to blindfold me at all. It was just a fucking power move. Another scare tactic to mess with my head.

But if they hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have just been felt up by Emmett. And judging by the dampness between my legs, I enjoyed it much more than I’d like to admit. Which only makes me hate myself. Especially as he yanks my arms behind my back and shoves me toward the door.


Tags: Rebel Hart The Elites of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy Romance