Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 05

Waiting in silence Jemma felt the fear begin to return. She'd been pampered and taken care of and treated, not like a guest as such, in fact, thinking about it, it felt more like a prisoner preparing for his last supper than anything else. Why had that thought never crossed her mind?

Probably because her mind was more focused on sex than on worrying about her situation she thought ruefully. It had seemed that every time she started to focus on Kyle and going home, something had happened to distract her, and she'd just been enjoying not having to worry about anything. Fool!

And now here she was tied, albeit loosely, but still effectively the prisoner of this rather large, rather intimidating man, who was being unnerving silent at the moment. She thought back to that moment when he'd forced her up against the cupboard and held his hand tightly over her mouth.

He was strong, much stronger than she, and now that the haze of arousal was wearing off she was more than a little terrified again. Surely he wouldn't rape her, he'd told her he wanted her to come to him willingly, but then by coming here in the first place had she not shown willing?

Maybe that would be enough for him, she thought panicking, and with the doors seemingly impenetrable and the staff unlikely to come to her aide how could she stop him if he really wanted to have her. She was just a girl and a pretty unfit one at that, whereas he clearly spent a lot of time working on his body. She didn't stand a chance!

Her breathing was coming quickly now, almost hyperventilating, and when he touched her cheek she let out a little shriek and jerked away, forgetting her hands were tied behind her back. With another cry she felt herself falling, unable to catch herself as she toppled sideways and landed hard on her shoulder, her head hitting the floor with a thud.

Feeling the touch of his hand on her arm she frantically tried to back away, pushing herself back along the floor with her feet, little whimpers of fear escaping her mouth as she did so.

She could hear his footsteps padding along beside her as she wriggled, pulling the ties around her wrists tight as she struggled to get free.

Changing direction, she yanked at the knots but what had once seemed like a harmless bit of fun had now turned into a painfully restrictive bond and everything she did seemed to make it pull that little bit tighter. Backing up against a wall she realised with a shocked gasp that the wriggling that had made the bonds on her wrists tighter had had the opposite effect on the bow of the kimono, somewhere along the way it had come undone and the robe gaped open. Unable to see, she could feel the brush of air over her heated skin and the slide of the silky material as it parted over her thighs.

Curling her knees up to her chest, Jemma huddled against the wall, terrified and out of breath but with enough self possession to know that exposing herself to this man would only make her more vulnerable. Her heart beating hard against the wall of her chest she turned her head to the wall, feeling the cool solidness against her hot cheek, reverting to childish behaviour now, if he couldn't see her then maybe she could pretend he didn't exist.

When he made no move to touch her again she began to calm a little, her breathing becoming easier and less laboured and the panic dropping to a manageable level. In fact, she was a little embarrassed at her behaviour, all he'd done was touch her lightly and she'd turned into a scared animal, God only knew what he thought of her now!

Her cheeks burned red again with shame as she lifted her chin slightly, still keeping her knees tightly tucked up against her chest, but with a little of her natural fighting instinct returning. He'd startled her, it was only natural for her to be a little nervous, what did he expect? For her to just sit there and let a stranger manhandle her around while she was tied up for his amusement?

Angry now, she waited for him to say something. Every second of silence playing on her nerves until finally she'd had enough.

"Find it funny to scare women do you?" she challenged, his lack of response pushing her temper up to boiling point.

"Cat got your tongue?" She bit out sarcastically, "I'm not surprised. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

When he still didn't answer she felt her bravado start to slip away. She hated feeling this helpless.

Using her knees she rubbed at the blindfold over her eyes, succeeding in pushing it up to her forehead where it stuck, caught by her ears, and she growled her frustration at being unable to use her hands.

Blinking a little at the bright sunlight she glared around, realising with a shock that the room was empty, had she been so scared that she'd imagined his touch, his footsteps?

But no, on the floor in front of her lay a piece of paper, the words darkly black against the crisp white background.

"I said don't move," it read, and Jemma sank back against the wall. What did that mean?