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“I really don’t think I should have to use manners with my kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper when I’m saving you.”

“I don’t think you’re saving me when you don’t give me a choice,” she snapped back.

“I don’t agree.”

Well. Awesome. He didn’t agree. She guessed that was that then.

“Oh God,” she groaned as her bladder told her time was up. She wasn’t even sure she was going to make it. “Please help me.”

The words came out without choking her. Fancy that.

Instead of grabbing her arm and helping her stand, he carefully lifted her into his arms. She groaned, unable to hold in the noise of pain. But he quickly got her to the bathroom and put her on her feet.

“You need help with your clothes?”

Probably.

“No,” she told him.

“All right.” He stepped back, but didn’t leave the bathroom.

“You have to go.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“I’m hardly going to climb out the window.” She gestured to the small window. Even if she could fit, she wasn’t up to any sort of climbing.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Also, there’s a weird smell in here.”

She didn’t want to think about the weird smell. Or she might throw up.

What did he mean that wasn’t what he was worried about? What was he worried about?

“Fine. Fuck. What do I care if you’ve got some weird pee fetish?”

“Pee fetish? I don’t have one of those. But I’m not going to leave you alone and risk you hurting yourself.”

She had her pants halfway down her legs, grateful that she wasn’t wearing jeans when he said that. She froze for a moment.

“I’m not going to hurt myself.”

“Or find something to hurt me. Not that you could. You’re tiny. And injured.” His cool gaze ran over her and she flushed red as she realized what a sight she must make with her pants halfway down her thighs and her red and white striped cotton panties on display.

“Cute panties,” he told her.

She grabbed them and shoved them down. If he was going to look, then screw him. She sat back as quickly as she could manage, groaning as she did.

Lord, this was going to suck.

Damn Carl. What the fuck? Not only did he beat her, but he left her unconscious and tied up for anyone to find her.

Fucking bastard.

If she ever got her hands on him . . . well, actually maybe she would be better off just never seeing him again. Probably safer for her.

“Be careful or you’ll hurt yourself more.”


Tags: Laylah Roberts Montana Daddies Erotic