Chapter Twelve

Blurred Lines

Ella

"Tell me about you." His muscular arms wrapped tighter around her.

Ella was surprised at how good his body smelled. With no hot water and little in the way of bathroom facilities, she might have expected Tucker's body to be laden with dirt and disgusting, yet snuggled against him, his skin was clean with a faint waft of that same sandalwood scent she enjoyed.

"About me?" Brow furrowing, she allowed her lids to fall closed as she inhaled the alluring aroma. "What about me, sir?" Sir. The title echoed in her head. She'd once resisted the word, yet now it rolled from her tongue as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Anything." His voice was like a sigh. "I don't know anything about you except your age and whose daughter you are. What do you do for a living? What do you do for fun?"

"For fun?" she repeated his final words as though she was unsure what they meant. Why does he want to know about me? "I like to shop with my girlfriends."

"Shopping?" He laughed, the noise gliding over her like the silk that had once adorned her wrists.

"Yes, shopping for clothes." She might once have been irritated by his unsurprised tone, but enveloped by his warmth and with her recent repletion soothing her, she realized she was unconcerned. "I like clothes."

"I'm sure you look lovely in them." He kissed her crown, one hand sliding to massage her left breast.

Her lips curled at his touch, even though it made no sense to enjoy it. Tucker had no right to be there with her, his limbs entwined with hers. Hell, she shouldn't even be there with him at all, yet, in this one period of pleasure, she'd parked his prior offenses and found she was open to his caresses.

Tucker had felt sublime inside her, his approach offering just the right amount of mastery to enrapture her. Ella had never fallen for an older guy before, but stretched out with him, she suddenly saw the appeal.

Not falling.She bit down on her lower lip as she realized her mistake. I'm not falling for him. I just liked the sex. Tucker's a great lover. That's all.

"But I'd wager you look better out of them." His chuckle swirled around her, drawing her focus from his taunting fingertips at her breast. His digits circled her puckering teat, no doubt looking to entice another session.

She smiled lazily at the idea. She should be thinking about escape, about how best to get out of the cabin and the damn forest that seemed intent on imprisoning her, yet there she was, considering how easily she might succumb to his advances.

"What about you?" She wasn't sure why she asked. Maybe it was only to switch the attention back to him and deny his enigmatic appeal, or perhaps she genuinely wanted to know about the man who'd quite literally captured her.

"What do you like to do, sir?" She tilted her head toward him with the query.

"This." His large hand squeezed her breast gently. "I like fucking you."

"Yeah." She joined his brief laughter. "I like that, too, but what about before me… what did you do then?"

"I honored the nature all around me." His voice was filled with what sounded like awe. "The trees, the birds, and the river. They all bring me joy."

"You really like it out here, huh?" Ella couldn't quite believe it.

There had been one brief moment by the river before the bear had arrived when she might have seen the appeal. The flowing crystal water and the blue sky overhead had understandable charm, but as for the rest? Ella saw nothing special in the endless miles of branches and dirt.

"I do." His hand left her breast and rested on her chest below her collarbone. Ceding to his touch, she snuggled against him. "I worked hard for this little piece of peace and quiet."

"Did you build this place?" Her gaze darted around the confines of the cabin. No doubt some would describe it as cozy, but all she'd witnessed was a run-down, glorified jail cell.

"I did." Pride resonated in his voice.

"From scratch?" Ella had to admit, if it was true, it was an impressive feat. She might not love the place, but she couldn't refute his skill set.

"From scratch."

"Wow."

She hadn't intended to offer the praise aloud but acknowledged no regrets. Tucker had been a swine to her, but in recent hours, he'd been gentler and more intent on her needs. If she could only find something in the place that she could eat without vomiting, then maybe she'd have the strength to find a way home.

Home.

Her brows knitted at the thought, though she tried not to dwell. Her mum would be going mad with worry, and so would her friends.

"Is that what you did before this?" She pushed the rising emotion back down, determined not to give in. Getting upset again wouldn't aid her cause. The best she could do was keep Tucker on side while she decided on her next move. "Were you a builder?"

"No," he scoffed as if she were ridiculous. "Not a builder, beautiful."

"What then, sir?" She glanced around the wooden building again. Surely, only a professional would have been able to create something like this?

"Do you really want to know?" His voice had taken on an edge she recalled from the barn, and her heart sped up at the menace.

"Erm…" Flustered, her gaze darted reflexively for the door, even though there was no hope in fleeing and even less point in trying to while she was naked and filled with his cum. She needed rest and food before she could figure out how to get away, but one thing was for certain—her next attempt needed to be her last. She doubted Tucker would ever leave her bondage-free again if she tried and failed to abscond. "I'm interested, yes."

"You haven't told me what you do yet."

Why was he being so cagey about his career? Clearly, he'd gained his skills from somewhere.

"That's because I don't do anything." Her lifestyle of shopping, lunching, and dating wealthy men had never troubled Ella before, but as she admitted her lack of a career to Tucker, a sudden pang swelled in her chest. What was that? Regret? Did she wish she had something more meaningful to share than only over-indulgence? "I mean," she clarified. "I don't have a job."

Shit, that sounds even worse!

"You're twenty-six, and you don't have a job?" He sounded bemused.

"No, I…" Her voice trailed away as embarrassed heat gathered in her cheeks. "I guess I never saw the need. I always had money and preferred to be with my friends."

"Don't they work?" There was no judgment in his voice, only a curiosity to know more.

"No," she admitted. "We just hang out and have fun."

"Then, no wonder this is such a struggle for you." He inhaled. "I didn't realize."

"Why would you?" Her hand rose to her face and covered her growing blush. She was glad Tucker couldn't see her mortification.

She'd never met anyone like him, anyone who thought work was important. Everyone else in her life was happy to spend and party rather than earn and learn. For the first time in her existence, she contemplated that she could be a better version of herself.

"You must think I'm a spoiled princess." She drew in a breath, the crease in her brow deepening as the pang inside her ballooned. It bothered her, she realized. She cared what he thought about her, and the idea that he found her cosseted and pathetic was more hurtful than it should have been.

"I think you're a product of the life you've led." He shrugged, although his arms never moved from around her. "It might surprise you to know I wasn't so different from you at your age."

"You weren't?" She considered turning toward him but then remembered her reddened face and remained where she was.

"No, I wasn't," he confirmed. "I was selfish and arrogant in my early twenties. That's how I first met your father."

"It certainly sounds like him." A chill raced over her at the mention of Alexander. "He's still those things, except now I guess I can throw in ‘broke' as well." She shook her head at the depressing thought. How had her father lost all of his money? She didn't spend that much.

"Yes, he's no role model, that's for sure." His tone was reluctant, as though he regretted mentioning Alexander. She certainly wished he hadn't. The reminder about why she was there did nothing to perpetuate their passionate afterglow. "But the fact you're a decent person tells me he had little to do with your upbringing."

"He didn't have anything to do with me for years." She had no idea why she was telling him this. It wasn't as if her past had anything to do with Tucker or that she was intending to stick around and share stories, but somehow, it was comforting to just talk. After so much conflict and aggravation, the explanations were as heartening as they were easy. "He actually denied I was his for a long time. Mum had to prove it with DNA."

"Why am I not surprised?" He sighed, his head rising to kiss her ear. "He's a lousy human being."

"So, why did you lend him so much money?" The question came to her in a rush, but abruptly, it became the center of her focus. If Tucker loathed Alexander so much, why lend him anything at all?

"I lend lots of people money, little girl." His hand drifted to her throat, grazing her skin as he went on.

She tensed at the touches, unsure if they were an unspoken threat or just a sign of the type of man she'd bedded. Either way, her heart sprinted at the prospect that one explanation was true.

"The interest they owe makes me a lot of money."

"Are you rich?" she blurted out and instantly regretted it. Tucker's financial position was none of her business, and furthermore, she shouldn't care about it. She was going to get away and leave him behind her. It didn't matter if he was a pauper or a billionaire.

"That's very direct of you." He didn't sound angry, but the way the finger at her neck stroked her skin insistently suggested otherwise. Maybe she'd gone too far? Why hadn't she thought before she'd opened her mouth?

"I know, I'm sorry, sir."

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to regain her composure. She considered moving her hand to his and shifting it from its place at her throat but hesitated. It was a risky approach. She didn't want to piss him off even more.

"That's okay." His huge hand hovered at her throat for a moment, closing over her and holding her for one long second before slowly gliding back to her breast and tormenting her other nipple.

She exhaled at the change, her pussy clenching at the fresh stimulation. Ella had always adored having her breasts and nipples played with, and Tucker's expert touch seemed able to stimulate her with little effort.

"I don't mind talking about my money."

Thank God.

Being there with Tucker was such a headfuck. One instant, she was ready to fuck him again, and the next, she was worried he might hurt her, but the worst of it was she might even find the danger in him attractive.

"Yes, I'm a rich man," he went on. "But I'm guessing I'm not like any of the playboys you usually party with?"

"No, sir." That was the understatement of the millennium. "You're certainly not."

"Too old?" His tone was wry.

"Older…" She was careful with her choice of words. "Although that wasn't the word I'd have chosen."

Naturally, she'd noticed Tucker's advancing years. He must be close to twice her age, but his ripped body and strength had revealed a man more than capable of keeping up with her previous lovers. His age hadn't been an issue for her at all.

"Really?" His digits paused at her nipple. "Then tell me, what word would you have chosen, little girl?"

"Edgier." Pulling in a breath, she turned her face toward him. "There's something about you, Tucker, and however much time we spend together, it never goes away."

"Is there?" He eased himself upright on the bed, leaving her stretched out over his semi-erect cock. "And what do you think that might be?" A dark twinkle shone in his blue eyes, the gleam encouraging the butterflies in her belly to stretch their wings at the same time.

"I don't know, sir." Her attention flitted from his dick to his face. "But it makes me nervous."