Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Aubrey

They tell you to fight.

They tell you to scream, to yell, to do whatever you can to throw your attacker off. To try to make yourself vomit, or even soil yourself. To do whatever necessary to make the process of being violated as unattractive as possible.

It all sounds good. Easy.

It isn't. And for me, in the moments I sat waiting while the man standing in front of me gazed down, his praise still ringing in my ears, I knew I wasn't going to do any of those things.

I was going to obey.

I knew why. There was something about him, in the way he'd spoken to us, the explanations he'd given, as if he'd come to offer us a deal we couldn't refuse. Essentially, that was what this was—a deal we couldn't refuse. He'd already told us why he was here; now all that was left was for him to finish the task at hand. I could've done any or all the things they'd taught us in that freshman sexual-assault-prevention course, but if I did it would achieve nothing. This man wasn't some fuckboy frat bro with a rape fetish; he was… articulate. He genuinely seemed to want us to understand this wasn't personal, but… business, as if that meant a damn thing. He'd said things like ‘ the sooner we can get this over ' and ‘ it pains me to say this ,' as if he empathized with what we were going through. Which was bullshit, because there was no way he could and still intend to go through with what he'd described. Still, in this weird way I couldn't shake off, everything that had happened since he'd pulled out his gun seemed… less based in raw aggression than transactional. A quid pro quo Sonja's father had unwittingly become a part of, and the payment was going to be…

Me.

It was a combination of all those things that made me realize I wasn't going to do anything of the things I'd learned in that class, and it boiled down to one simple reality: if I did, he'd simply switch from assaulting me to doing it to Sonja. If she tried any of those same methods, then he'd undoubtedly hurt us both in ways far worse than anything I was anticipating. And there was another reason, too, a lunatic thought that wriggled its way inside my head the moment he'd said, ‘ You're a good girl, Aubrey '.

That I'd disappoint him.

I'd shoved down hard on that thought the second it surfaced, but still it squirmed there, wrestling to find its way out once more.

Fuck no! What the hell is wrong with you?

"Ms. Taryn."

I jerked my head up at the sound of his voice.

"Last chance."

I knew exactly what he was asking.

"Just get it over with, please," I whispered.

He nodded, and—there it was again. He looked almost… sympathetic.

No. There was no way he could be concerned for my well-being, considering what he was preparing to do.

"So," he continued in that patient voice, "let me roughly outline what's going to happen here. I'm going to strip you naked, then use you while I film it on my cell phone. As I said, for this to ‘sell,' I'm going to need to hurt you while I do that. I promise I won't leave any permanent marks. The worst I'll inflict will be some bruising that will last a few days at minimum, a week at most. I do want you to understand, though, you will be making me come. I have to do that at a bare minimum for this to have the necessary effect."

He stopped, looking down into my face. "Do you have a preference?"

"A preference?"

"Yes." He waited for a second before adding, "For where I come."

Oh, god…

"I… I…"

"Perhaps I should first ask, are you on birth control?"

I nodded weakly.

"Ah, good, that simplifies things. So, if I were to come inside you, pregnancy wouldn't be an issue. That allows us the luxury of either vaginal, anal, or oral." He gave me a questioning look. "I'll ask again; do you have a preference?"

"I… How am I supposed to answer a question like that?" I implored.

He paused for a moment, thinking. "You know what, you're right. Perhaps it's better if you don't. Leaving it up to spur of the moment might be our best option. It'll have the added benefit of not telegraphing an impression that we discussed this in detail pre-coitus."

My god, how could he be so… methodical about this?

"Well, unless you've anything you'd like to add?"

"Please don't do this."

He cocked his head. "Changing your mind? You'd rather I use Ms. Delgado?"

"No. Neither of us."

He smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid that's not an option."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"I know," was all he answered as I fought to keep from crying.

I shot a glance toward Sonja, spotting the tears streaking her cheeks. For a millisecond, I caught her gaze, then she turned away, looking down into her lap.

"Okay," he said, pulling my attention back to him. "Once I start the camera, I won't be stopping until I'm finished. Have you any acting experience, Ms. Taryn?"

I scrunched my brow. "Uhh… no."

"Pity. Well, I'm sure you've watched a sufficient amount of porn in your life, so if you've ever seen any of a non-consensual variety, might I offer some advice? Play it up like one of the actresses in those do."

"Fake it," I said softly.

"Yes, at least to a certain degree. Like most women, I'm sure you've had sexual partners you've had to do that with before." He held up a finger. "However, if it's too over the top, they'll catch on, so don't overdo it." He gave me an appraising look. "Are you a masochist, by any chance?"

I swallowed. "I… I don't really think of myself that way."

"Ah, well. As I mentioned, I'll be hurting you, so most of the time you probably won't need to pretend. But if an opportunity arises to emphasize how much pain you're in, it certainly couldn't hurt."

"I'll… try." I didn't know what else to say. In that moment all I could think was… what did he expect me to say? Everything about this was becoming more and more surreal.

"Good girl." He pulled out his phone, flipped open the little stand at the back, then set it down on the coffee table. "So," he said, turning back to me, "shall we begin?"

You can still back out…

Except I couldn't.

"Yes."

"Excellent," he replied quietly.

And then he slapped me across the face. Hard.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but it hadn't been that. He'd asked me if I'd had any acting experience, but the suddenness of the blow, the savagery of his attack threw me into a panic-mode I didn't need to fake. Before this he'd seemed calm, business-like. Now…

I cried out, but before I could do anything else he had his hand knotted in my hair, wrenching my head back.

"Look at the camera, you fucking slut," he snarled ruthlessly.

Searing pain streaked over my scalp as his fingers tore strands of my hair free. "Please! Fuck… stop!" I screamed.

"Look at the fucking camera," he demanded viciously.

"I am!"

He held me still. "Tell them your name."

"I'm… I'm Aubrey."

Fire blistered my nerves as he shook my head sharply. "Your full fucking name, bitch."

"Aubrey Taryn!"

"And who's that over there?" He twisted my face toward Sonja.

"My… my friend."

"And does your friend have a name?" he sneered in a mocking tone.

"Yes."

"Say it," he ordered.

"Sonja Delgado!" I cried.

"Sonja Delgado. And is her daddy's name Antonio Delgado?"

"Yes."

His face hovered inches from mine, pulled to one side just far enough so my own could be caught by the phone's camera. "Do you know why this is being done to you?"

"N… no."

"Well, you see," he growled, addressing the camera as much as me, "your friend's daddy has been a very naughty, naughty man. He's pissed off some very important people in a family he was supposed to be friendly with. They asked me to come here and show him what happens when you don't treat your associates with the proper amount of respect."

"Okay."

"Now, they could have asked me to deliver this message to Mr. Delgado's daughter directly, but since he's their friend, and you're her friend, they thought delivering the message through you would show how valuable it can be to have friends helping friends. You can understand that, can't you, slut?"

"I… I guess so?"

You guess so?" He jerked my head abruptly. "I know so. So, here's what's gonna happen; you're gonna be a good fucking girl and show Mr. Delgado what could've happened to his daughter instead of you if his friends weren't the nice people they are."

"Okay, okay, please, I'll do whatever?—"

He twisted to his side suddenly, partially straddling me. I cried out as he shoved me back into the couch, his forearm pinning me in place across my throat. I struggled as he cut off my breath, but he was so much bigger, heavier, and all I could do was rasp as he threatened to choke me out completely. With his free hand, he grabbed the strap of my bikini top, and with a violent yank he tore one side free. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse strangle as he repeated the same thing on the other side. Ripping the remains of my swimsuit top, he tossed the torn fabric to the side.

"Fuck." He smirked, gazing down at my exposed chest. "Look at them beautiful fucking tits."

Releasing my throat, he dropped his hand to my left breast and began mauling it. Fire radiated outward, five searing tendrils of agony that surged from where his fingers dug into my flesh in a vise-like grip.

I screamed.

"Mmm… you have such nice tits, slut. Do you like it when men play with them? Do you like it when they suck on them? Bite them?"

I knew what he was about to do. It was a dreamlike moment, as if we'd rehearsed what was about to happen.

"I… please…"

He lowered his face and took my nipple into his mouth.

At first, he did what every guy since eleventh grade had done once they got my bra off and their mouth on my boob—he sucked on it. Drew my bud between his teeth and nursed, his tongue laving over it in a swirling motion. I hated how my body reacted as he did, but there was nothing I could do to prevent them from stiffening.

You can do this. It can't get any worse…

Until it did.

He bit down, and I screamed.

" Nooo! "

His teeth sank into my flesh, and a branding iron of agony shot through me. My body reflexively jerked back to get away, but that only made things worse as he stretched my nipple taut.

"God, oh, god, please stop, please stop, please stop !"

He held me rigid for a second that seemed to draw out forever before he released me with a snap. "Why? They taste so fucking good..."

I drew back against the couch, coiling my body away from him. "It hurts… please it hurts…"

"Ohhh… it hurts?" he mocked me. "Well maybe this will feel better…"

He gripped my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger and began to twist slowly.

"Fuuuck ! Oh, god, please, pleeaassse !"

A sharp, tearing sensation flooded me with misery. The feeling was of my flesh being torn, and as I screamed, my eyes instinctively closed, as if losing sight of what he was doing would make the anguish go away.

It didn't. In fact, it only grew as he pulled outward, and I howled unintelligible sounds until he let go.

With my hands bound behind my back there was no way I could protect myself, but in my sudden feral state of mind I coiled into a ball to shield myself from him.

He laughed at the effort.

"Oh, you stupid fucking slut. You think you can stop me..."

He knotted his fingers back into my hair, jerking the strands until he had me pulled upright. I bawled, choking incomprehensible pleas even I couldn't fully understand. My world had simply become one of pain, an unending sine wave of suffering that ebbed and flowed at every touch of his hand on my body. The first time he'd seized my hair I'd thought the agony couldn't get worse. He'd proved me wrong, living up to his comment, ‘ I'll be hurting you, so you won't need to pretend. '

He was right about that, 'cause I sure as hell wasn't.

My eyes were closed as he forced me into place, but a sound made me jerk them open.

He drew down his pants zipper, and I watched in dull horror as he fished out his cock.

He was hard, fully erect. Previously, he may have extended a certain degree of… not kindness, but… professionalism, for lack of a better way to describe it, as he'd discussed what he was going to be doing to me. Now that he was doing it, though, there was no escaping he was enjoying this with a sadistic pleasure. The rigidness of his shaft knocked away any notion that this was simply ‘business' as he'd claimed earlier.

He leaned down. "You know what you're going to do now, slut? You're gonna suck my fucking cock." He gave my head a brusque twist. "And I swear to fucking god, if I feel your fucking teeth one time, I'll rip them outta your head one by one and make a necklace."

"Oh, god," I whispered. A distant part of me said what he was doing was as much theatrics as it was real, but there was nothing ‘faked' about the erection he shoved toward my mouth. And if I'd had any hope earlier that he might play-act any part of the actual sex, the pressure of the head of his cock against my lips swept away that notion permanently.

I took him in.

I'd given head before. It wasn't something I'd ever been opposed to or shied away from with a lover, but… it had never been like this. Even the most confident of the fuckboys I'd slept with had still been tentative at first when I'd gone down on them, petting my hair cautiously until they were assured I wasn't going to suddenly jerk away. Then they might palm the back of my head in time with my bobbing motions, as if I somehow couldn't feel their reaction and needed reinforcement to understand how good what I was doing felt.

This… This was the complete opposite of that.

"Fucking suck that cock, whore. Suck it."

He shoved my face down on his shaft. Gripping my head, he drove his hips upward, forcing his dick into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat. I gagged. There was zero hesitation to his actions, absolutely no pause as he continued thrusting. I'd heard the term ‘face-fucked' used before, but now… now I experienced it for the first time. There wasn't a single thing he did that showed any concern for how I might be feeling, unless it was pain. When I choked, and spit drooled from the corners of my mouth and down my chin, he simply shoved me down harder.

"Fuck, you look good gagging on my cock. Do you like that fucking dick? You like sucking on it?" He yanked back on my head, pulling his erection free as I gasped in a lungful of air.

"Please…" I retched. A strand of saliva draped from his cockhead to my lips until my gagging broke it and it fell across my chin.

"Please?" he taunted. "Please give you some more?" He jerked my head forward. "Fuck, yeah, why not?"

He rammed his shaft into my mouth again.

My vision swam. Lightheaded from his dick blocking my breathing, I lost track of how long he tortured my throat. Everything spun, righting itself for only a few brief seconds when he released me long enough so I could suck in a few gulps of air. I swore it had gone on for hours when he eventually pulled out and shoved me back into the couch.

"You fucking suck cock good, bitch. But I think you got more to that tight little body of yours I should explore."

As he knelt to trap me in place against the couch back, he gave me a gentle smile and a wink. I… I didn't know how to react or what to do, the sudden change so whipsaw abrupt, I simply froze. Before I was even aware of it, he had my bikini bottom clenched in his hand, and when he began hauling it downward, I simply remained motionless, allowing him to strip me completely naked.

"Aw, fuck, yeah, look at that pussy." He shoved a knee between my legs, forcing them apart. Putting his hand on my mons, he began rubbing it roughly, pushing his fingers between my labia to spread me open. "Mmm, for a little whore you've got a nice, tight cunt. How many men have fucked this snatch, huh?"

When I said nothing, he viciously rammed three fingers up inside me.

"Answer me!"

"I… I don't know…"

He slapped me across the face with his free hand. "Fucking lying bitch! Tell me how many men you've fucked!"

"I… seven… eight…" I blurted reflexively.

"Fucking bullshit," he growled. "You're a fucking whore. I'll bet at least a hundred guys have fucked this tight little hole." He gripped my face, squeezing my cheeks together tightly. "You like being fucked, don't you?"

I couldn't answer. What did he expect me to answer?

You know what.

I swallowed, because why in god's name had I even thought that? He didn't give me a chance to dwell on it, though.

"Answer me!" he snarled, shaking my face left and right.

"I… I…"

"Answer me, you fucking slut!"

"Yes," I whispered.

Aubrey!

"I knew it." He turned to look at Sonja. "Did you know your friend was such a slut, Ms. Delgado? Did you know how much she likes taking fucking cock? She's probably fucked every guy in your dorm at least a dozen times, hasn't she?"

"Please… leave her alone…" Sonja choked, her face glossy with tears.

"Oh, no… I'm not going to leave her alone. I'm going to fuck the shit out of this pussy. But first…"

He dropped his hand between my legs, palming my sex. I started to squirm away from his grasp, but he pressed down, preventing me from moving as he spread my labia apart with his fingers and he?—

"What are you doing? N… no. No, don't do that. Please… please don't do that!"

He thrust two fingers into me roughly, pressing them deep. When his palm came against my mons, he didn't stop. Instead, he pushed even harder, as if he wanted to drive his fingers inside me as far as he could, even if it meant breaking my pubic bone.

"Oh, god, oh god, that hurts, that hurts !"

And it did. Except when it… didn't.

I'd been fingered a few times, but usually in the quickest, most perfunctory fashion possible. He didn't do that. He was rough, and it was painful until it wasn't. His first few thrusts had clearly been meant to hurt me, but… then they weren't. They became pleasurable, and the reason for that was simple: he knew what he was doing. Unlike every man I'd been with before, he knew what to do, how and where to hook his fingers inside me to find that spot most guys acted like it only existed in legends. As he built to a rhythm, he began to swirl his thumb over my hood, teasing out my clit. Even though every part of my brain screamed at me not to, I didn't listen. Couldn't listen, because where my mind said no, my body began…

To enjoy it.

And he knew. He could clearly feel it. He worked at me, sensing how my body was reacting, and he did what no other guy had before—he focused on it. He focused on my arousal, my gratification. Even Lyle, as attentive as he'd been, had never truly concentrated on me during sex. Once things got hot and heavy, everything had shifted slowly but surely to what was making him feel good. Fulfilling his desires. At best, I became secondary until afterward, when he might say, ‘ here, let me make you come .' Or even worse, the dreaded ‘ did you come ?'

This was not that. This man wasn't even touching himself, much less having me stroke his dick. He was solely fixated on my pussy, and how what he was doing was making me feel.

What the fuck is going on here?

"Shit, your pussy's so fucking wet, slut. I think you like this."

"Please," I whimpered. "Please don't…"

He chuckled. "Please don't… stop? Oh, don't worry; I'm not."

I moaned. It wasn't entirely in despair, however, because what he was doing…

"You're going to come for me, bitch. You're gonna come for me like the good little slut you are. And if you don't, I swear to God I'll fuck your friend up so bad even her daddy won't recognize her when I'm done."

I shook my head. "Oh, God, noooo…"

I didn't want this. This wasn't what I should be doing right now. My body… My body shouldn't be betraying me like this. I should be stronger, able to stop him from what he was doing. Except I couldn't, and that made me feel so… weak. So fragile and vulnerable and defenseless. So at his mercy, and in what felt like the absolute worst possible way.

By giving me pleasure when all I should be feeling was misery.

The wave began to build in me. Even if he hadn't threatened Sonja, I wouldn't have been able to stop what was taking place with my body. Realization that there was nothing I could do to prevent what was taking place turned raw hopelessness into blanket submission. I simply gave over to him, shutting my eyes and my mind to everything but the sensation of his fingers inside me, his thumb stroking my swollen clit.

I clenched down on him as I began to slip over the edge.

" Oh no …" One final whisper, one final cry for my resolve to hold firm, but it didn't.

"You're gonna come, aren't you, slut?" he growled in triumph. "This tight little pussy's gonna come for Daddy, isn't it?"

Daddy. No… no… not…

He sensed what was about to happen and took even the final tiny fragment of power I held in this situation away from me.

"Fucking come, whore. Come!"

And I did.

My world came apart in an aurora of whiteness behind eyes clamped shut. Every nerve in my body seemed to explode outward, and for a moment, I was lost to everything around me as I submitted entirely to my orgasm.

"Yeah, that's it," he encouraged me with quiet intensity. "That's it. Come for me like a good girl."

Good girl. Good girl.

I shuddered as the last waves of pleasure rippled through me, and my mind and body returned to the present. To where I lay limp against the couch in Sonja's father's home, a man who—despite what he'd just done to me—was a complete stranger leaning above me in a way that shouldn't have felt protective in any fashion, and yet did. This was the man who less than five minutes ago had been torturing me, who now held me in place, his fingers still inside me, as the last shivers of my release arced through me.

Good girl.

Why did those words continue to reverberate in my head? They shouldn't. He'd hadn't meant them. They were for effect for the camera, obviously, nothing more.

And yet…

I opened my eyes to look up.

His face was turned away from the camera, and he stared directly down into mine, and—why? Why was he smiling like that? Why did he look so considerate, so… pleased?

You can't do that! I wanted to scream.

But he did, and for a moment I felt…

No, Aubrey. No. Do not feel… good. You fucking cannot feel… gratified.

He narrowed his eyes, and the smile turned from to caring to predatory as he withdrew his fingers. "Okay, whore. Now you're gonna make me come."

I was so dazed, my thoughts and reactions so confused and disjointed by what he'd just done, I didn't fight back. As he gripped my head once again, I didn't struggle, didn't attempt to jerk away, didn't beg him not to do what I knew he was going to do. I did none of those things.

Instead, I obeyed.

I bent and took his cock into my mouth. I did exactly as he'd ordered and began sucking.

"Yeah, that's it. Fucking make me come. Suck that fucking cock…"

And I did. His hand pushed in time to the rise and fall of my head as I moved up and down his shaft. I gave the man who'd abused me, tortured me—and who'd also just made me come—what he wanted. A blowjob.

Willingly.

It didn't take long. He'd been erect for… ten, fifteen minutes? Maybe longer. I honestly didn't know because time had completely lost meaning as this… display he was filming had gone on. But now he showed he wasn't faking everything, because his dick swelled in my mouth in a way I'd experienced before.

And I knew what was going to happen.

"God, that feels so good, little girl," he rumbled in a tone so low I wasn't sure the phone would pick it up. And maybe that was why he'd said it that way. He didn't want them to hear the praise he was giving me, because I wasn't supposed to be enjoying what I was doing to please him.

But even as I fought against it with every fiber of my being, a part of me… was.

God, Aubrey, what the fuck is wrong with you?

"Fuck!" he groaned harshly, the approval in his voice from a moment ago now gone. "Fucking make me come, you fucking whore!"

Without warning he pulled free of my mouth, and I cried out in confusion, not certain what he intended to do to abuse me next. Holding my head with one hand, he fisted his dick with the other, pumping rapidly. I sucked in my breath, waiting for him to push between my legs and shove his cock into my pussy. To thrust inside me until he released because I'd told him I was on the pill. Even if I hadn't been, the optics of him filling me with his cum would be exactly what his employers wanted. The taking of me sexually fully, a final message to Sonja's father of what could've happened to his daughter. Besides, in my experience, guys loved coming inside, tapping into that primal instinct to impregnate, and I'd no reason to believe he'd be any different.

Except he was.

" Fuck! "

The word roared out of him at the same time warmth hit my chest.

His cum splattered against my breasts, each pulse palpable as it landed. I gasped, jerking my head back as his seed covered me. I'd never had a guy do this before, and… the sensation was more humiliating than I'd expected. There was a visceral sense of being used—that I was nothing more to him in this moment than an object—which went far beyond anything I'd experienced before in my sexual history. I was a… target. A thing to be marked. True, he'd made me come a short time ago, but rather than take his own pleasure by coming inside me, now he simply spent himself on me, as if I was nothing more than a dirty sock to soak up his cum.

Everything he'd done was sickening. But this…this was… demeaning. Degrading. Horrific.

Exactly what he'd said he was hoping for.

"Oh, fuck, yeah. Take that load."

And I did, gazing up into his face as he finished.

Looming over me, he shook his dick and cum dotted my chest in a constellation of pearlescent droplets. When he finished completely, the room went quiet, the only sounds those of Sonja weeping softly, and my own breathing slowing.

He gazed into my eyes, and for whatever reason, the man I was looking at now was not the sadistic one who'd just used me so violently, but the polite one who'd stepped out of the shadow by the pool. Getting up from the couch, he snatched up the phone from the coffee table and pressed his finger against the screen, stopping it from filming further.

"That should be enough," he said quietly. "We're finished." Glancing around him, he bent over and picked something up off the floor. A piece of red fabric he now offered to me.

"Here. You'd probably like to clean up, I imagine." His tone was so courteous, so gentle, so… concerned, it was as if the past twenty minutes hadn't even happened.

I took the ruined top from his hand, wiping the semen from my chest. As I did, he zipped up his pants and rethreaded his belt back in place.

"You did very well, Ms. Taryn," he said as I finished smearing the last of his milky seed from my skin.

"Than—" I bit the words off.

What the fuck, Aubrey! You were seriously just about to thank him?

He gazed at me in silence, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked quietly, driving away the self-reproach at what I'd almost done.

"Well, I need to finish putting this together"—he indicated the cell in his hand before slipping it into his pocket—"so my bosses can pass it along to their client. But as far as we're concerned here…"

He picked up the gun where he'd laid it on the end table while he'd fucked me.

"There's really not much else left to do."

Sonja cried out. "Oh, god, no. Please, no!" She curled up tighter into her corner of the couch, pulling as far away from him as she could. "We did what you asked! Please don't kill her!"

The man stiffened. "What do you mean, kill her?"

Sonja didn't answer, her gaze fixed on the weapon he held.

He followed where she was looking down to his hand. "Ms. Delgado," he said wearily, "I've little doubt you don't hold me in the highest regard, but let me assure you, I'm a man of my word. I told you I wouldn't hurt either of you once we were finished, and I have no intention of going back on that now."

"I… you…" she replied in confusion.

"Killing Ms. Taryn would be incredibly wasteful, and I'm not a wasteful man," he said firmly. With a smooth motion he slipped the gun into his waistband, then picked up his sport coat, shrugging it on. "Ms. Taryn?"

"Yes?" I answered softly.

"I'm afraid I ruined your swimsuit." He gestured to the piece I still held. "My apologies. Can I assume you have other clothes available somewhere?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"Good. In a moment, I'm going to need you to go change, okay?"

I nodded quickly, not sure why he was concerned about my appearance, considering what we'd just done.

Sonja must have had the same thought, because she blurted out, "Why do you need her to change? You said you were done here…"

He looked back at her. "And I am done here , but as I said, I'm not a wasteful man. My employers have left it up to me on how to handle the final details of our transaction, and leaving Ms. Taryn here would be no less wasteful than eliminating her. Therefore, I have another option I'm going to exercise."

Bewilderment made me narrow my eyes. "I don't understand," I said quietly. "What… what are you going to do?"

He turned back to face me, his warm smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Well, first I'm going to ask you to go get dressed, as we just discussed."

"And then?" I whispered.

"And then I'm going to take you, Ms. Taryn," he answered calmly.

"With me."