Okay so let me start by saying that this fic was inspired by a dream that I had after going back and re-reading "Captive" by THE wonderful Meganbrianna. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please give me some feed back. Thanks....


Chapter 1 – Diffidence and Detest
He’d been watching her for an hour or more. Sitting on the opposite side of the bar directly across from her and still she had yet to notice him. His mind seethed with scenarios. The question overwhelmed him. Would he? Could he? Should he? That last one made his face contort into a sinister smile. She seemed so happy sitting there on her third Desorrano, laughing with her friends. Enjoy yourself tonight, he thought, it may be quite a while before you do again. She interrupted his wandering thoughts with a smile. It caught him off guard, almost derailing him. She held his gaze until he smiled back and then she looked away. He continued watching her, waiting. Less than one minute, he’d noted the time on his watch, until she looked back at him. She smiled flirtatiously and he returned her attention with coyness.
Their flirtations continued intermittently and his thoughts from earlier in the evening were replaced with new ones. Ones of possibilities he hadn’t dare dream of. Thoughts that she might actually be interested in him, that he might not have to go to the extreme as he had planned. Disappointment or excitement, he wasn’t sure which one he felt. Maybe it was both. She was smiling at him again; her friends looked over at him and said something to her. I wonder what you’re saying, he thought.

“You are seriously flirting with this guy aren’t you?”
“Annie, she flirts with everyone.”
“Uh! I do not!” She smiled, “anyway, look at him, he’s cute.”
“As true as that statement is, he is so not your type.”
“And what exactly is my type, Annie?’
“The best looking guy in the room is your type. And he, while adorable, especially when he smiles, is not the best looking guy in this place. Mr. Wonderful over there in blue is.”
She followed her friends gaze and then turned back to Annie. “Yep. He would definitely be the best looking guy in the room, Mr. Wonderful as you called him. The Problem, my dear Annie, with the best looking guy in the room, is that he also usually thinks that, he is indeed, the best looking guy in the room. And there is nothing worse than a male Elizabeth Hurley. Trust me, I know… They laughed boisterously, drawing even more attention to themselves.
“So, if he came over here you’d leave with him?”
She laughed. “I have no intentions of leaving with anyone tonight. Moreover, he won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s… well, diffident. It’s all over him, you can almost smell it. Interesting though, he’s a good looking guy. Maybe he’s married, could explain the vibe.”
“No ring.”
“Like that means anything.”

She smiled at him again, seduction pooled in her eyes, she played with him and he enjoyed it. She looked over to Mr. Wonderful and caught his gaze and smiled a similar smile at him. He followed her eyes down the bar to the guy in the blue shirt, something rose within him. Something like envy, detest, loathe. Her eyes now returned to him and he held her gaze with a stoic stare. He pushed himself away from the bar as he stood, never breaking eye contact with her. He paid his tab and walked away, not giving her a second glance.

“What’s with him?” Annie asked.
“Who knows?” She laughed it off; “He’s probably feeling guilty about that pretty little wife of his sitting at home alone waiting for him.” It left her with an uneasy feeling, although she never said that to her friends.

She walked through the door of her house closing it behind her. She stopped short of punching in the code for the alarm. “Did I forget to turn that on?” She spoke out loud to herself. “I could have sworn that I set it, I never… an arm wrapped around her, covering her mouth and nose with an odorous cloth and before her world went black, she felt the heat of his breath on the side of her neck. She fell limp in his arms. He carried her to the sofa and laid her down. Resting her head on a pillow, he pulled a syringe from the inside pocket of his jacket. He watched her for a moment, thinking he could leave now and no one would know he’d ever been there. He didn’t have to go through with this, and yet, he did.
He straightened out her arm;”this will be easy” he said aloud “she has healthy veins.” He laughed at how that sounded as he injected her with Ketamine, enough combined with the alcohol that she had consumed to keep her out for the night.


She had fit so neatly into the duffle he’d brought along and no one questioned his insistence of carrying it himself, as he boarded the private jet. A few short hours, he thought as he settled into his seat.
“Here you are Mr. Cook.” The flight attendant handed him the malt whiskey that he’d requested.
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can get you before we take off?”
“No. I’m fine, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sir. If you should need anything just press the call button. She walked away and left him with his thoughts, staring at the large duffle that sat not too far from his reach.

His hand shook almost violently as he raised the glass to his lips. A nervous laugh escaped him. “Fuck! I did it! I just abducted Daniela Azzurra. Daniela, freaking, Azzurra. The most beautiful, undeniably sexy woman to ever grace the pages of S.I.’s Swimsuit Issue.”

Ahhh! This is great! I can't wait for more. I figured it was going to be him abducting someone when you said it was kind of backwards... you're great! I totally love this and you must update soon!

I officially declare you a THE as well.

Awe shucks!!! Thank you for posting, I'm glad you like it so far!!!

Chapter 2 – Fear and a memory…

Her eyelids fluttered, he leaned forward in his chair. Still asleep, he thought. He wondered now about the dosage that he'd given her. Leaning back in the chair, he looked around smiling. Congratulating himself on how amazing the room looked. The walls were painted a warm, intense red and had a faux-leather finish. The bold mahogany furniture, the rich chocolate brown and brushed gold bed linens, it was beautiful. “She has exquisite taste”, he said aloud. The room was an exact replica of her bedroom, down to the autumn harvest scented candles on the dresser. His smile disappeared as she stirred in the bed.

Her eyelids were heavy. Her head was pounding or spinning, or both. She couldn’t focus; her vision was blurry. She closed her eyes again, wondering how much she had to drink that night and how she got home. Even the slightest movements made her feel nauseous, so she remained still. I didn’t have that much to drink, she thought, I drove home. And the al… her thoughts interrupted by an attempted yawn. Her lips burned. She couldn’t move them. Her eyes shot open, she tried moving but to no avail. Her wrists were bound together and tied to her body. Her ankles tied to the footboard of the bed. She struggled, as fear and a memory hit her simultaneously. The alarm was off and then there was that smell and the warmth on her neck. She watched him approach the bed from out of the corner of the room. How had she not seen him there?

“Good morning princess. Well, afternoon I suppose.” He sat down on the bed next to her. “Don’t struggle. You’ll only hurt yourself. You slept a long time, thirteen hours to be exact. I was beginning to think I gave you too high a dosage.” He smiled and she thought he looked vaguely familiar and yet she couldn’t place him.

“I’m going to take this off now,” he pulled at a corner of the tape that covered her mouth, “don’t scream. Oh wait!” he laughed softly, “no one would hear you anyway. The room,” he circled his finger in the air, “I had it sound proofed. Actually this whole wing of the house is sound proof. Gotta love modern day technology.” He started to pull at the tape, “you know what? I wouldn’t scream it would just annoy me. And you don’t want to annoy me now do you?” He ripped the tape from her mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from her. She pressed her lips together to stop the stinging but it didn’t help. A thought popped into her mind. Sound proofed the room? She looked around and he knew what she was thinking. “Mmhm. Looks just like your room, doesn’t it? He nodded, “you’ll also find a few other similarities once you get up and have a look around. I want you to feel at home. But take my for it; we are thousands upon thousands of miles away from your home. I’m going to cut you lose. Then I want you to get up and take a shower. You’ll find everything you need in there.” He motioned towards the bathroom. “And when you are finished I’ll bring you something to eat and some aspirin for that massive headache you’ve got right now.”

The sound of his words echoed in her ears and when he touched her as he cut her free, she felt her stomach threatening to heave. She wanted to fight him as he lifted her to a seated position. She tried to wriggle free from his grasp. She wasn’t sure if it was the wave of dizziness that stopped her or his cold, dead stare.

He smirked, “feeling a little hung over? It’ll wear off. Usually within 48 hours or so, taking a shower will help.” He said as he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t fight him, she didn’t have the strength. He left her standing there and started to leave the room. Then turning back towards her he said, “Not too hot, wouldn’t want you to feel faint,” a twisted grin curled his lips, “then I’d have to come in there after you.”

The door closed, sounding more like a vault than a regular door and the sound of the lock bounced off the recesses of her brain. Her stomach heaved and she ran into the bathroom, falling in front of the toilet. Dry heaves; nothingness, that was the contents of her stomach. She sat there for a moment before turning on the shower. She stepped in, clothes and all. Hot water poured over her from every angle. She stripped off her wet dress and undergarments. Steam rose around her, “not too hot” she remembered and turned down the temperature of the water. A cold shower sounded rather like a softly played violin right now. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in there but the chattering of her teeth snapped her back to reality. She turned off the water and wrapped herself in a soft towel. Stepping out onto the bath mat she buried her face into the ends of the towel, sobbing uncontrollably. She heard a sound from the outer room. She stopped crying as if on cue. Standing by the door she listened, nothing. Her attention now drawn to the clothes lying on the counter top. He’d been in here, while I was in the shower? She almost started to cry again but the thought of him coming in and her not being dressed was terrifying.

The bra was her size. The panties, the only brand she ever wore. And the label of the dress that he’d set out for her was, as of late, by her favorite designer, although she hadn’t noticed. She reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste to eradicate the bile like taste from her mouth. The toothbrush and paste were the same colors and brands that she used at home. Looking around her head began to spin. Everything was the same. The mineral makeup, the colors, eye shadows, liners, mascara, even the flavor of lip glosses that were her favorites. The hair products that she used, body lotions, everything, right down to the brand and absorbency of tampons. What the… where the hell… who was this guy? She thought that maybe he’d just taken these things from her house, but upon closer inspection she realized that they were all brand new and had never been opened before. It was like an alternate reality. A frightening parallel that she wished she’d never know existed. How many times had he been in her house? When? What had he seen happen? Who had he seen her with? What were they doing? Had he been watching her that last night she’d spent with her ex? Her breathing went erratic. She felt as if she were going to hyperventilate. She grabbed hold of the pedestal sink to steady herself, but pushed away from it when she became starkly aware that it was the same sink that she had in her bathroom. The toilet she noticed now, the same, the shower with the wrap-around shower heads. The framed mirror that hung above the sink, the Italian tiles that made up the floor. The color of the bath towels, the rugs on the floor. Her knees buckled, she sunk to the floor, blood rushing from her head. The cold from the tiles revived her somewhat. At least making the spots that danced before her eyes begin to lessen. She lay there, not moving. Waiting; waiting for something other than this. Waiting to wake up from this nightmare, waiting to wake up in her own warm bed. Praying to wake up anywhere but here. The sound of the lock startled her; she struggled to her feet as quickly as she could. The beads of water that dripped down her face from her cold wet hair sent a shiver down her spine. She towel dried it some more, she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to leave the bathroom. She didn’t want to see him, didn't want to be in the same room with him. Questions flooded her brain, Makeup, no makeup? She didn’t want to anger him but she didn’t want him to think she was comfortable here either. She glanced in the mirror, she hadn’t washed off the mascara that she wore, and gently she moved the tips of her fingers against her lashes to separate them. The slightest bit of blush she applied to the apples of her cheeks and then lip gloss because her lips still burned from the duct tape that had been over them. She decided that making him angry was worse than him thinking on some level she was comfortable. She opened the door of the bathroom slowly. She didn’t see him in her direct line of sight, but she knew he was there, she could smell his cologne. Dolce and Gabbana The One for Men. She would recognize that scent anywhere; it was her favorite, unforgettable, erotic. Was that just coincidence or did he know that as well, she wondered.

“Feeling better?” He was sitting on the edge of the bed. He glanced her over from head to toe “you look amazing” a lustful smile formed on his lips. She said nothing and stopped where she stood, looking at the ground. “Not going to talk to me?” He laughed “what’s the matter beautiful, are you scared? Scared of me?” She could hear the pleasure in his voice. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” he snapped. She readjusted her eyes to meet his, where have I seen you before she questioned in her mind. “That’s better. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t harm you. That is not my intention. However; do not think for one second that I won’t. Because if I have to, I will not hesitate.” He stood up, walking towards her, she stepped back away from him, stopped by the dresser that was closer to her than she realized. “Where are you going?” He smiled, “there is no escaping me, sweetheart. The sooner you realize that the better off you’ll be.” He moved a damp curl off her face, she looked away, and with his hand under her jaw he pulled her face gently back towards him. “You should eat something. There is a bottle of Advil over there on the table as well. It’s never been opened, still in the sealed box. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to drug you or anything” he laughed, “I have other ways of doing that. Make sure you eat. Drink some water; you need to flush that Ketamine out of you system, if you want to feel better. I’ll leave you to it. But don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

Alright, so I'm posting chapter 3 now because it's kind of short and I'm hoping that maybe some of you who are reading this will leave a comment. Please!! Like, hey this is kinda good, or, hey this totally sucks, or not bad but kind of twisted. (which I know, it probably won't be everyone's cup of tea) I hope you enjoy it anyway!!




Chapter 3 – Charlie Brown’s Parents…

The Advil she took. The water she drank, but the food she pushed aside. Even the smell of it made her stomach churn. She walked every inch of the room, looking for anything that she could use as a weapon. Nothing. Everything was bolted down, even the candles. How had he done that? Glue maybe? The room had no windows; it was the only thing that was ‘off’ from her own bedroom. She opened the closet doors. Not as large as her closet but stocked with clothing and shoes that were the exact size and style that she wore. The tags still hung on them. Three hundred dollar jeans. A $2500 Armani dress. Versace, D&G, the list of designers was endless. And the shoes, mainly Ferragamo and few Pedro Garcia. Either this man, correction, she thought, monster, had unlimited wealth or people weren’t the only things that he was into stealing. She walked out and closed the doors.

“Is it to your liking?” She almost came out of her skin. She turned to look at him, breathless. “Snuck up on ya, huh? Sorry about that. Do you like them?” He waited. She didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.” She thought of a few choice words but didn’t dare say them. She nodded her head in answer. What did he want her to say? There were tens of thousands of dollars of A-list designer garments in there, who wouldn’t have like it.

“Good. One rule though, I pick out what you’ll wear every day.” His smile was warm yet laced with Arsenic. He turned away, “you didn’t eat anything. Not hungry? Stomach upset still? Ya, it’ll pass. Although, taking that Advil on an empty stomach might not have been such a great idea. I brought you some more water.” He kept talking, she really wasn’t listening. She was fighting to stay on her feet as the vertiginous returned. His voice muffled like he was in a tunnel and it reminded her of Charlie Brown’s parents…waa…wa…waaaaa….. She was fading… she fell into his arms. He carried her to the bed and warred with the urge to lie down next to her. She wasn’t quite out of it; she could hear the sound of his footsteps and the slight creaking of the bed as he sat down. She opened her eyes so that she could see him.

“I told you to eat. Typical woman. None of you ever listen.”

Did he just call me a typical woman? He saw the irritation on her face and fought laughter.
“Fuck you! I’d rather starve.”
Smiling, he nodded. “Suit yourself.” He laughed, “And yes, I will fuck you. Sooner or later. You can count on that.” His voice was cold, oppressive, and monotone.
“Just do it. Get it over with.” She snapped with as much venom as she could.
“Watch your tone when you speak to me. I’ll do it when I’m ready. I can wait; I’ve waited this long. Besides, although I will take it if I have too, I prefer that you just… give it to me.” His smile, lopsided. Not even if you were the last man on earth, she thought. She turned over onto her side, facing the wall. Tears fell from her eyes, dampening the pillow beneath her. She closed her eyes welcoming the sleep that carried her away from her present reality.

He sat watching her sleep for a while before he left the room. Thoughts of what he had done and the thoughts of what he was yet to do vanquished him. Maybe he had lost his mind, or maybe he had just brought the sanest thing he’d ever thought into fruition. Either way, a feeling of extreme eroticism washed over him as he locked the door that held her prisoner.

Well, I love it. Keep it up, dollface. <3

I have to say, I love it. And I'm not sure it that's despite or because of the twisted nature of the story. But either way, please keep writing it.

Well, I'm glad YOU love it, dollface!!! Thanks




I'm with you on the despite or because of the twisted nature thing. I feel the same why while I'm writing it. I'm so happy you posted this. Thank you.

More to come, I promise.

I love it!

It's totally dark, but completely unique and captivating (did I just use a big word? must be DC rubbing off on me)

I hope he wins...I'm voting nonstop! I'm soooo scared!!!

Someone hold me!!!! *opens arms wide, hoping to reach the sobbing image of David after 'World I Know'*

Great big hug for you!!! FYI, I hugged the TV at that very moment. I voted nonstop as well!!!

Hey, thank you! I'm so happy that you like it; and ya DC is rubbing off on you, man I love it when he does that...

It's not the side of DC I like to see. That said, it's terribly intriguing nonetheless. Actually I love it

Ah, but stay tuned my dear, so much you've left to see...
I'm glad you love it!!!
Update coming soon.

Chapter 4 – Sociopaths and Losers

Days passed. She wasn’t sure how many, without windows to see the risings and the settings of the sun. She hadn’t eaten. Not one crumb. The food he brought her smelled incredible and the presentation was that of a five star restaurant. But still, she refused. She was making a point. Although, now she thought that point was mute. She was doing a disservice to herself, not him. The hunger made her sleep constantly and gave her severe stomach pains, not to mention a nagging head ache. He continued to bring her food hoping that she would decide to eat something; until he grew tired of her stubbornness.

She sat on the edge of the bed, weak, exhausted, her body aching, when he walked in holding a mug. Despite how awful she felt she pulled herself together in front of him. He put the mug down on a table and pulled a chair over so that when he sat down he was directly in front of her, barely two feet away.

“Why are you being such a stubborn bitch?”
She barely had had a voice; it shocked her when she spoke. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?” She glared at him. Her thoughts weren’t coherent and it hurt her head to even think. But still, she thought, why can’t I remember where I have seen this guy?
“Huh!” He laughed. “Is that what you were thinking that night? Because it actually looked to me like you were attracted to me.”
She shook her head slowly, gingerly and rubbed her temples, “what the hell are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember me?” He sounded agitated.
“I do, maybe… I can’t place you… I can’t… think.” Her head was pounding, she could plainly hear her pulse in her ears and even that was too loud.
“You have no idea how much I want to backhand you right now.”
She didn’t even react to that. “Will you please just tell me where I have seen you before?”
“Delaney’s on 5th.” His words echoing in her mind, she closed her eyes trying to focus. Trying to remember and then it clicked. She looked up at him. He wasn’t… was he?” He smiled at her. That smile, those eyes. “Diffident.” She said softer than a whisper. The beard that was it, that’s why she couldn’t put two and two together. He’d had a “soul patch” that night. He looked younger then, and diffident.“Do you remember me now?”
“Ya.” She nodded, her bottom lip quivering as tears welled in her eyes.
“So is that what you thought of me?”
She sure as hell wasn’t going to say she thought he was cute. “I thought you were – married.”
He looked at her oddly. She stifled her tears and spoke through the pain that shot through her body. “What do you want from me? Why am I here?”
“Um, I don’t want anything from you exactly.” He put emphasis on from. “I want you. It’s just that simple. And why you’re here? Wow. That’s a loaded question. But let’s start with this. What did he have that I didn’t?”
“What? Who?” She was legitimately confused.
“The guy in the blue shirt, sitting ten stools down from me. Remember? You smiled at him the same way you smiled at me.”
Blue shirt? She thought. “Mr. Wonder….” She stopped short, realizing that she was saying too much.
“Mr. Wonder…? Wonderful maybe? Is that what you were calling him?” His voice was full of pestilence. “What the fuck am I” he yelled “ordinary?” He stood up, knocking his chair over in anger. Her head reeled in pain at the sound of the chair hitting the floor and she had no one to blame for it but herself. She had said too much because she couldn’t think clearly and because, apparently, she was trying to starve herself to death. She needed water. She needed a cold compress for her head. She stood slowly, making sure she had her balance before she walked to the table and picked up a bottle of water. He watched her. She moved as if she’d forgotten he was ever in the room. That pissed him off even more.
“Am I invisible now?” He shot. She turned to look at him. “Ordinary and invisible?”
“If the shoe fits.” She mumbled under her breath.
He approached her, “what did you just say?’
She’d never been as frightened of him as she was at that very moment. “I said what do you want me to say? What do you want to hear? Because I don’t know what that is?” Tears streamed down her cheeks even though she swore she wouldn’t let him see her cry again.
“Say what is on your mind.” He said in an authoritative voice.
“You don’t want to hear what’s on my mind.”
He grinned at that, “Well now I definitely do. What’s the matter? Too scared princess, because there is no one here to save your tight little ass?”
Should I? She wondered. What’s the worst that could happen? He could beat the shit out of me; kill me; maybe that would be better than this actuality. “Alright, I’ll tell you what’s on my mind.”
“I’m waiting.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out if you are a sociopath or just a loser.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A loser? First I’m an asshole, then I’m ordinary, invisible and now I’m a loser? Those are pretty big words for a little girl.
“Are you done?”
“Again. Watch. Your. Tone.” Emphasizing every word. “Go on.”
“Fuck you and your tone.”
“Is that what’s on your mind?” He smirked. “Really?” He grabbed the mug, “Sit down and drink this, since you aren’t’ going to eat anything.” She stood there with an inert look on her face. “Don’t give me that look. Sit your ass down and drink this. It’s chicken broth. It’s better than nothing. You can barely stand; you can’t even form a cohesive thought. All you can do is call me a loser. And I know your vocabulary is a hell of a lot larger than that.” She grabbed onto the table to steady herself and he grabbed her arm. “Last chance. Sit down on your own or I will make you sit.”

She pulled her arm away from him and then all but fell into an arm chair. He handed her the mug.
“When you finish that, I’ll get you some more.” His words kind, caring. He squatted in front of her chair, playing with the cuff of her right pant leg. “Still think I’m an asshole?” He asked genuinely.
“Well I am thinking about kicking you in the balls right now. So you tell me?”
He laughed, half amused half agitated. “I’d rethink that if I were you.” He stood to his feet. “I might enjoy that.”
“I was wrong. You’re maniacal, psychogenic maybe.”
He smiled. “See there. That pretty little head of yours is starting to work already.”

Squee! He's so... twisty in this. I love it.
Your David and my Adelae would be sexay lovers in an alternate universe.

OMG THEY WOULD!!!

Love this fic!!!! *smothers with love*

Feeling the love. Thank you..



Yes, they would!!!! And ya he is "twisty"

Hey everyone, this is the second update of the day, so read chapter 4 if you haven't been on since this morning..

Chapter 5 – Sabbaticals and Irony…



“Good Morning Sweetheart. Are you ready to actually eat some food today?”
They spoke through the closed door of the bathroom.
“I am not your sweetheart.”
He laughed. “You must be feeling better. Your breakfast awaits, Sweetheart.” He said it again, just to aggravate her before he left the room.

She ate some of it; if her stomach hadn’t felt so full she would have devoured all of it. What was he, a professional Chef?

When he came back in he found her already dressed but was momentarily distracted by the fact that she had actually eaten.
“Did you not like it?”
She turned to look at him. Somewhat confused. The questions he asked her at times were… Why did he care? What did it matter? “No… I, um… I just wasn’t that hungry.”
“Mm.” He nodded. “I guess that’s what happens when you don’t eat for four days.”
Four days? Was that how long she’d been here? It felt like weeks to her.
“Take it off.” He stopped a few inches in front of her.
“What?” It was almost audible as the fear of what was to come gripped her.
“Take it off. I didn’t pick that out for you, did I?”
“You didn’t pick out anything.”
He grinned, pleased with himself, “Ya, I know. Take it off. Not that it doesn’t look incredible on you, because it does. But I have rules.”
“Fine. What do you want me to wear?”
“Get undressed and I’ll pick something out for you to wear.”
How far can I push you, she questioned silently? “Pick something out and then I’ll get undressed.”
He smiled. “I make the rules around here, Sweetheart.” He laughed. “I know, you’re not my Sweetheart. Now take it off!”
She watched him for a moment and then slipped out of the blue dress, letting it fall into a puddle around her ankles. She stepped out of it. He bent down to pick it up and slowly stood back up trailing her body with his eyes.
“Clothes?”
He looked her over, “I don’t know. I kind of like you just like this.”
She tried to hide her nervousness, “Really?” She said as calmly as she could, “Is that supposed to scare me? Because I am very comfortable in my own skin; people have seen me in a lot less than this.”
“And we have loved every second of it.” He said nodding. “But the question you should be asking yourself is not, if you are comfortable in your own skin. It should be more like, how comfortable are you standing here, like this, with me? I mean, think about it. How long do you actually think I can stand here, with these thoughts running through my head…mmmm….and not touch you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should find out.” Shit! Daniela, think before you blurt out shit like that.
He smirked at her flippant attitude. “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want to know what my hands would feel like on your body?” He said as he brushed the back of his fingers across her stomach, causing her to flinch at his touch. She looked beyond him, desperate to not meet his eyes as he placed his hand on her hip. He walked around her, dragging his hand along her body as he moved. His palm and fingers tracing the definition of her abdomen; across the small of her back and then down and around to her thigh. “No Photoshop needed for you is there. Mm. Mm. Mmmh. Damn woman!”

Being looked at as an object of lustful desires was not new to her, nor unexpected. That came not-so-neatly packaged with being a model that was best known as being a S.I. swimsuit model. Albeit; she had never felt more like a piece of meat than she did right now.
He stood in front of her now, watching as she tried to hide how she was feeling.
“That smart-ass mouth of your gets you into trouble, doesn’t it?” He said with cynicism.
“Can I have some clothes now… “She stopped short of saying please.
“Let’s make a deal.” He paused for effect. “You do a little dance for me and I’ll get you those clothes.”
She shot a look at him that felt like daggers piercing his flesh, making him lose his resolve, if only for a moment. “You want a dance? Go to a topless bar.” She started to walk away; he grabbed her arm, stopping her. She struggled to free herself from his grip but it was futile.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to walk across the room.” She snapped.
“You know, you’d think that you would stop running that mouth of yours, considering the circumstances surrounding you.”
“Well if you knew half as much about me as you think you do, you’d know I’m not one to hold my tongue.”
“Just to clarify, I know pretty much everything about you. And don’t confuse your pleasant accommodations for anything other than a prison.”
“Do you actually think you’re going to get away with this?”
“I already have.” He smiled, gloating.
“So you think. They’re already looking for me. It’s just a matter of time before it’s you in a prison cell.”
He laughed, amused. “No one is looking for you. No one even knows you’re missing, Sweetheart.” The question showed all over her face. “Did you forget your little sabbatical? Three months away from everyone and everything. No cell phones. No land lines. No email.” How did he know all of that? Those were her exact words, she thought. “Ya,” he nodded with a grin. “Ironic isn’t it? That I, shall we say, ‘stole’ you away a few hours before you were supposed to leave. And lest you think that someone will report you not catching that private Jet or arriving at your destination, it’s all been taken care of. You had a... slight change of plans. Oh ya, and Annie sent you a text. She said to enjoy your vacation. I texted her back, told her you would."

Her eyes closed at the thought of all he had just said. He was right. No one would think any different. He had painstakingly planned this whole thing. She was at the mercy of a madman.

Damn.

That was amazing. I don't know how you come up with this stuff

Guess I'll show my twisted side and tell you I'm really digging this. Please keep going.

Thank you. I don't know, actually, I guess I have a slightly, sadistic side, maybe.



I'm soooo happy you are really digging this. I will!!!


Yea!!!! Cookie is THE American Idol!!! Didn't you guys just want to hug him and kiss his and maybe a few other things as well?!! teehee...
I have permasmile still from him winning. It's so amazing. Can you imagine how elated he his right now, if we are all this happy? [size="4"][/size]

*Mature content*

Chapter 6 – How A Body Responds…

She stood looking in the bathroom mirror, realizing that in spite of her efforts to cover it with makeup she still had that “afterglow” look about her. It was the “hot as she could stand it” shower and all the excessive crying that she’d been doing for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t want him to see her this way but in inevitableness of it hit her as he walked into the room.

Minutes earlier she had opened the bathroom door to let the steam escape.

He stood in the doorway watching her. Contemplating.
“You look amazing in that dress.”
The way he said it, as if from one lover to another, it made her eyes close in reaction to the shiver that encompassed her spine. She put her head down and turned to walk out the door but she had to stop, he wasn’t moving.
“Look at me.” She hesitated. “Look at me.” His voice was hushed, not harsh in any way. She lifted her head to look at him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of how ethereal she looked at that moment. She fought tears as his intentions shown on his face. He stepped out of the way so she could pass.

She wanted to run. To hide; but there was nowhere to go. She stopped in the middle of the room, her back to him. She wiped a tear away. He approached her from behind. His hands touching her arms, she felt them slide down to her wrists and then felt the cold, hard steel as he locked her in hand cuffs. She was immobilized with fear. When it finally occurred to her to fight him he had already put a knife to her throat.
“Relax.” He whispered in her ear, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Her strength left her. She stood only because of his arm around her waist. He walked her over to the bed, but passed it. He turned her around to face him and backed her up against the wall. With one hand he held the knife close to her body and with the other he raised her arms up over her head, pulling her to the tips of her toes as he locked the chain of the cuffs into some sort of rigging hook, in which there was no escaping. She had determined not to cry even though the feeling engulfed her. He unbuttoned her dress. Slowly. Methodically. Every second of it, like torture to her. Her now open dress falling at her sides; he ran the blade of the knife against her skin from neck to navel. Sliding it under the fabric of her panties he cut first one side, and then the other and they fell from her. He leaned in close to her, kissing her neck as she turned her face from him.

“You look good enough to eat.” He pressed the knife against her bare skin, “Do not fight me.”

Kissing his way down her body until he knelt in front of her. What the hell is he doing? She thought as she pulled down with her arms recoiling at the pain it caused her. He lifted her leg up over his shoulder. What in the… he wouldn’t…? Of all the things he could do… Not… his mouth was on her, his tongue exploring her. Deep, soft, breathless moans escaping him. Disbelief and shock spread like lightening through her body. He knew exactly what he was doing. How could she fight him? Physically she couldn’t. But moreover how could she resist him? With his mouth and his tong… Mmmmh…. Was that audible? She questioned herself. Baseball… that’s what guys thought about right? Who’s on first, all that…. Oh! That felt too good… I should not be enjoying this! She reprimanded herself harshly. She started to lift her leg from off of him, he pressed the sharp blade of the knife so close to her that she thought if she breathed too hard it would slice right through her, stopping her instantly. Also stopping the wave that threatened to overtake her. She pulled down on her arms again trying to see if there was any way out of that hook. The only thing she succeeded at was cutting her wrist on the metal of the cuff. He continued with more fervor than before and her body was responding more than ever and he was fully aware of it. He turned the knife in his hand and with one hard, quick overhand thrust he sent the blade into the wall inches from her waist. She was scared yet relieved and then she felt his hands on her, touching her, caressing her. Pulling her into positions of even more vulnerability. More accessibility… No... No... Quick. Think. Think of something… what? Billy Bob Thornton, Oh hell! That worked!!! Mmm… until he did that… Oh shit! What was he doing? Biting, pulling, grazing her, sending her careening over the edge without warning; continuing until it finally loosed her. Her legs trembling, he stood. He watched her as tears ran down her cheeks and she refused to make eye contact with him.

He buttoned three of the buttons on her dress then pulled the knife from the wall. He unhooked her and she drew her arms into her chest. He continued watching her. He wiped her tears away with his fingers and softly kissed her lips, leaving traces of her on her mouth. He backed away and left the room.

When he returned a few minutes later she sat on the bed in silent tears trying to come to grips with what had just transpired. He sat down next to her. Taking her hands in his he unlocked the handcuffs and set them aside. He picked up a bottle of peroxide and dampened a cloth with it, then tenderly he cleaned the cut on her wrist that she’d self-imposed. The situation had left her numb. She didn’t even realize that he had wrapped her wrist in gauze.

“You know, I saw an episode of CSI or Law and Order, one of those. Where a guy had been raped by three women and he didn’t want to report it because, well, he was embarrassed but more so because he… let just say he enjoyed it. The body will respond whether you want it too or not, Daniela.”
“You knowing that going into it makes you an even bigger piece of shit than I thought you were.”

He was running his tongue along his bottom lip as she said that, still tasting her. He closed his eyes for a split second and nodded his head once. Then he got up and walked out; leaving her with feelings of violation and guilt.

WOW.... *fanning self frantically*

That was unexpected, awesome, and exceptionally HOT. All while still being slightly creepy.

You are beyond gifted as a writer!

ohana, thank you!!!
That was exactly what I was trying to achieve.
And sooooo glad that it's still slightly creepy...

Thank you again!!!

OOoohhh shit. That shouldn't have been hot, should it? Because it totally was.

I admit it. I'm sick. And I'm loving every single word of this story. I'm so glad you decided to post it. Goodness gracious.

You're sick? I'm the one thinking all of this up! I'm deranged I think. hahaha...
It shouldn't have been hot. Right? It shouldn't have been. But oh, it was!!!
I'm so glad that you like it....
Any new Lessons today? Please tell me I haven't run him off!

My thinking exactly!

Updates would be awesome!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!




WHY HAVE I NOT FOUND THIS BEFORE!!!!!!

Dude, a twisted, dark, dangerous David is the sexiest thing ever. I LOVE YOU. This is so. . . . . (words failing me here ) HOT!

Wow, your an amazing writer, and i know what it feels like when people read stories and dont comment, so im commenting! I LOVE IT! UPDATE RIGHT NOW!

*melts*

*fans self for a while*

You completely sachieved the goal. I love this!!! I think that makes me a little twisted, but I don't even care.

You are an amazing writer too!! Ilove your fics.. I'll update soon, probably not until morning thought. Check back then.. Thanks again.




Thank you... I'm glad you like it.

Okay my somewhat "twisted" fans whom I love. Here is your update, two chapter, but they are both short. I'm going out of town for the weekend so no updates probably until Monday or Tuesday. Sorry. But I promise it will be worth the wait.


Chapter 7 – Hidden Doors and The Truth…

A day and a half; she counted days now by the number of meals he brought for her. No words were spoken. Their eyes never met.

She heard the sound of the lock and ran quickly into the bathroom. She didn’t want to see him. She listened at the door. Following the sound of his footsteps in her mind, those damn boots he always wore. She heard a door, the closet she thought. And then she heard… music? She listened to the stomp-clack of his boots as he walked out, closing and locking the door behind him. She waited a minute and then opened the door. She did hear music. Where was it coming from? She looked at the far end of the room. Was that… a door? She questioned as she approached it, it was; and it was slightly ajar. She examined the edge of it. No handle and obviously when closed, was so flush and camouflaged in the wall she’d never known it was there. She opened it; the hum of music filled her ears. Nothing she’d heard before but right now it was the sweetest sound that she had ever heard. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped through the doorway and into a room that was 15’ x 17’ she guesstimated. A Bose Stereo system sat on a small table, music radiating from it and in the center of the room sat a Pilates Reformer. Her mouth gaped. What the…? He was a complete contradiction of terms, she thought. Yesterday he stripped her of every ounce of self-respect she had and today… this. Anyone who knew her knew how much she loved Pilates. It was her “stress relief” as she called it, her “sanity.” She looked at it again, and a smile curled on her lips, the first time she’d smiled in how ever the hell long she’d been here. She sat down on the floor staring at the reformer, listening to the music and wondering, what the hell was with this guy? Obviously this had been here all along, but why? Why all the “creature comforts”? All the expense, with the clothes, the shoes, the Reformer? None of it made any sense. Why all of this if all he wanted to do was rape and murder her? It was like fattening the calf for slaughter.

Hours passed. She sat listening to the CD, it played continuously. A song finished, a new one started. Wait! She stood up, walking to the stereo. This is the one she really liked. She turned up the volume, listening intently to the lyrics. She hit the previous button several times so she could listen to it over and over again.

“How many times are you going to listen to this song?”
“Fuck!” She jumped about three feet to her left. “What is it with you and sneaking up on people, anyway?”
He smiled slightly. Happy that she’d actually spoken to him. “It’s the element of surprise. What’s with you and this song?” He walked into the room now, closer to her, she backed up a few steps. He stopped. “Are you going to tell me why you like this song so much?”
“The only thing that I’m going to tell you is… Go to hell!”
He sighed heavily. “It’s a simple fucking question, Daniela. Why all the hostility?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” She said with sarcasm.
He walked forward, a glare in his eyes she’d never seen before. He pushed her back against the wall, her head making a loud thud as it hit. “I am not in the mood for your shit today. Just answer the fucking question.”
She fought her fear and spoke. “Or what? You’ll hit me? Rape me? Kill me?” She hesitated a moment, “Do your worst mother fucker.”
“There is not one strand of common sense in that head of yours is there?”
“What’s the matter? Afraid that my ovaries are bigger than your balls?”
He stood there, his hand around her throat, with hell’s fire burning in his eyes but when he spoke his voice was controlled, hushed. “Why don’t you come sit on my face,” he licked his lips like he was looking at prey. “Maybe you need another… release.”
She looked away from him, desperate for something else to say to him. Fighting the urge to anger him further; she lost. “You have a thing for oral sex, don’t you? Or maybe… all of this ‘hostility’ is your way of dealing with your impotent rage. “She regretted having said that as it came out of her mouth, but because it was out, she continued. “Is that it? Whatever the hell your name is. You can’t get it up? Can’t keep it up? Are you hoping that this little abduction scheme of yours will change all of that?”
He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand on himself. “Does that feel like I can’t get it up to you?” She tried to pull away; he was too strong for her. “Does it?” Holding her hand where it was. “Why. Do. You. Like. That. Song?”
She wasn’t looking at him. “It’s beautifully written. It’s sincere, honest. I don’t know a woman who wouldn’t love to have someone write lyrics like that for her. And with his voice, that pure and gritty, it’s… I just like it.”
He let go of her hand and took his hand away from her throat. “All you had to do was answer my question and we could have avoided all of this. My name.., it’s David. Not that you really give a shit. And the song… The Truth…


Chapter 8 – Note To Self, Keep Your Mouth Shut!!!

She must have been brushing her teeth for five minutes now. Not that it helped, but it serves as, literally, a means to wash the taste of him from her mouth.

“I’m tired of waiting.” He’d said. “So you can either return the favor or…” Or? What the hell was that? Or. “Your choice.” Did he actually say that? I mean, what was I supposed to say? Thank you for letting me choose where you… uughhh!! The thought of it even now, making her gag. Her gums were lightly bleeding; she put down the toothbrush and walked into the bedroom, shocked that he was still there. Lying on the bed, his hands behind his head.
“Come here, sit down.”
She said nothing, just did what she was told. He watched her for a minute before speaking.
“I woke up this morning with an unassailable urge.” Great! She thought, what now? “And I’ve been fighting it all day – but… I want to taste you.” She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment as the tears started to fall. “Take that skirt off.”
“Please don’t make me do this.” She pleaded with him.
“Don’t cry. Just take off your skirt.” He said in a docile voice.
“Please….”
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Don’t fight me. Wouldn’t you much rather this, than me inside of you? Come on, take it off.”
She stood and again did as she was told, her spirit broken, she just wanted to get it over with. He watched as she slipped the skirt from off her body.
“Those too.” She hesitated. “Did you hear me?”
She slipped the lace boy short from her.
“Come here.”
You have got to be kidding me, she thought. He wasn’t moving, still lying there on the bed. She shook her head. He grabbed her arm. “It’s not an option. Come on. Right now.” She shook her head again, in tears. “Right fucking now.” He pulled on her arm and she moved slowly onto the bed, in total disbelief that this was actually going to happen. What could be more self deprecating than straddling him?

Oooh shit. Dirty and sexy and all kinds of wrong.

Man. You're twisty. We should be twisty partners in crime. Wanna finish Captive for me? Lol.

Hot damn. This is just... ahh. Should be a movie.

You totally made my day!!! We should by twisty partners in crime....
I like the whole dirty and sexy and all kinds of wrong thing... ya, that's a good description!!!

I'm hooked on this story! Update soon!!!

DAMN.

DAMN. This fic is amazing but scary at the same time. Nice job!

OH
MY
LORD.


SIINNNSSSS!!!!

Please update this! I love twisted mother f*ckn David COok!!!!!! WaaaahhhH!!!!

SO HOTTT!!!

I'll be your Dr. Feelgood, don't worry!!! I'll be updating later today. Maybe two chapters if you ask really nicely...





Thank you... Thank you... Thank you...



I'm so happy that you love twisted mother f*ckn DC.. More HOTTTTNESS yet to come, I promise!!!

OH I LOVE TWISTED MOTHERF*CKN DAVID COOK! I DO! I DO!

Did you just say TWO CHAPTERS??!?!??! ZOMG. I love that oral sex part, cuz I read somewhere that he said oral sex (giving and receiving) is like, against the law in Missouri. I mean, how cool is that he could talk about sex so casually. *sweatdrop*

SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

Any copulation stuff going on? I kinda imagined her giving him an oral. A very detailed molten hot oral. *evil smile*

PRETTY PLEASE? *smiles*

First I have to say that I love your siggy.

Copulation? Maybeeeee... More over, oral, hmmm... Could be... although on here I can't get as detailed as I would like to, but I'll take it as far as I can just for you.... And ya, TWO CHAPTERS!!! Maybe this afternoon, I still have to work them out a little more. I know that whole trite Missouri law thing and sweatdrops for sure. Threaten me with a good time, right?!!! Update soon, I promise
Oops! I'm kind of getting ahead of myself, with the copulation thingy.. It's probably a few chapters out, but some interesting little twists are coming your way so hold tight and as I said the fun will come, I'm just going to have to make you wait a little longer. You have to beg a little more... teehee, Anticipation is everything!!!

Oooooh wow. This is really twisted.
Me likey (:

Here you go... Two chapters like I said. I hope you enjoy them..... Let me know.

Chapter 9 – Lecherousness…

Those weren’t his footsteps, too… lightweight. She stepped from the other room to see a man setting down a tray of food for her. He turned and saw her looking at him. He wore an arrogant grin and lecherousness lurked in his eyes. Alarmed she stepped backwards to regain her balance, leaning against the wall. She swallowed hard as he approached her. His hands were on her before she could even blink. He groped her, making her skin crawl. Where was he? He never looked at her this way, not like this. She had a sudden longing to see him, David. She never wanted him to walk through that door, and now she prayed that he would.

“I brought you something to eat.” Even his voice was horrifying. He withdrew his hands and left. Leaving her to slide down the wall into a sobbing heap on the floor.

He came back again. Another plate of food, lunch. Same look in his eyes, touching her and this time kissing her lips.
“Mmm… The things I’d like to do to you.” She fought him, pushing herself from his grasp. He laughed sadistically and walked out of the room.

She noticed that on the tray he’d left, that the utensils were silver not plastic, like David had always given her. A thought swept over her. She could fight him. He was smaller in stature than David and not on his guard, as it were. She ate a few bites and placed the fork into her pocket. He wouldn’t touch her again, at the very least and maybe, if she were lucky, she might actually be able to escape these four walls that held her prisoner.
She waited…


…For who knows how long. Enough for the CD to play in its entirety five… or maybe it was six times, before she heard the turning of the lock. She stood inside the door of the hidden room. She listened, footsteps. Wait! That wasn’t him that was the sound that David’s boots made on the hardwood flooring. She peaked around the doorframe to make sure her ears didn’t deceive her. First relief than panic washed over her.
Shit! He would notice the missing fork, and his reaction to it would be less than amiable. Think. Quick, Daniela, think. She walked slowly and quietly across the floor towards him, slipping the fork from her pocket.
He looked at the tray, thinking that she hadn’t eaten much and then he noticed the stainless spoon that sat on the tray. He knew she was walking up behind him. He waited; she moved around to the right of him and slowly placed the fork down on the tray as he watched her hand.

Her eyes welling with tears one or two trailing down her cheek, she spoke hesitantly, softly, “I thought you were him.” She stepped back away from him. “I’m sorry.” It was barely audible.

He looked at her and the expression on his face changed from disdain to something she thought looked like concern. “Daniela,” she looked down at the ground, “why are you crying? And what do you mean you thought I was him? Are you upset because I caught you? Look at me! Answer me!
She struggled to hold his stare. She was crying for a million reasons. “He… He scared me.” She spoke through tears, “the way he looked at me, and… and how he…
Rage shown in his eyes. “Did he touch you? She didn’t answer. “Did he touch you?” He asked again, through gritted teeth.
“Yes.” She answered him, nodding.
“What else?” His voice becoming crazed.
“He kissed me."
“Did he…..? He stopped short of saying what he was thinking. She shook her head no.

He stood looking around and then grabbed the tray and walked out, locking her in. Relieved that his rage wasn’t for her but wondering, why exactly he was so enraged?


“I thought I told you not to touch her!”
“Relax man. I was just having a little fun. It’s Daniela Azzurra, for fuck’s sake. She’s fucking beautiful!”
“You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you right now.”
“Dave, calm down dude. I mean, what’s your problem?”
“My problem?” My problem is you putting your hands on her.”
“For keeping this little secret of yours, I deserve a little touch.”
“You fucking talk about her like that again and you are going to turn up missing.”
“Now you’re threatening me? Alright, settle down. I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours but your visions of grandeur, in which she somehow falls in love with you and your obsessed mind is NOT going to happen. She fucking hates you man. She always will. What are you going to do? Profess your undying love for her? She’ll laugh in your face. To her you are a monster. No one embraces a monster. Face reality Dave! Sooner or later they’re going to know she missing and either you are going to prison or you are going to have to kill her.”
“Get out of here, alright. Just go, before I do something I’ll regret later.”
“I’m going. I love you man, you know that. But this situation is some crazy ass shit!”
“Ya, I know. I know.”





Chapter 10 – The Sound of Fate…

The door opened but she didn’t hear the familiar stomp-clack of his boots. She stepped into the bedroom, looking towards the open door. He stood just inside of it, his hands on either side of the doorframe.
He was looking down and off to his left side. “Well go on.” He said, “There is a beautiful lady in there waiting on you. Go on. Go on.”
What is he doing? Who is he talking to? Trotting into the room came a black and brown ball of fur. The German shepherd puppy came running, slightly sideways over to her as she knelt down. David watched from the doorway as she picked the puppy up in her arms and a smile exploded on her face. He watched for a moment, the small puppy kissing her face, eliciting a laugh from her.
He smiled, “I’ll be back in a little while to take him out.”
She looked up at him. Her smile remained. It affected him.

When he returned he brought her some dinner and a glass of wine. He left her to eat and took the puppy with him.
Not very long after that she heard the lock, and the door opening. He walked in and saw her sitting on the bed; he went over and sat down next to her.

“So what are you going to name him?”
“What?” She was genuinely surprised.
“Well, you can’t call him, hey you.”
“What?”
“Did that one glass of wine go straight to your head?” He questioned comically.
“No.” She shook her head. “But why would I name him?” She put emphasis on ‘I’.
“’Cause he’s yours. “ He drug out his words, not having realized until that moment that she didn’t get that.
“Mine? Why? Why would you do that?”
“Um,” he wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Because you looked lonely. You love shepherds. I wanted too… take your pick…”

Her head was swimming with confusion. One minute she was terrified of him, the next she wished him dead. And now she almost… dare she think it… liked him. He’s freaking Bipolar or Schizophrenic. Him? Hell! Now I’m thinking it’s me who is sick in the head. He’s actually got me thinking of him as a human being. Confused and hating how she felt at the moment brought tears to her eyes.
“Can I….” she stopped, not sure if it was alright to ask him a question. Not sure if she even wanted to be having a somewhat normal conversation with him.
“What? Can you?...”
She shook her head as he finished. “Nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. Can you what?” He looked over at her. “Ask.”
“I um, can I… ask you something?’
“Mmhmm.” He nodded.
“How did you get into my house?” Her speech was hesitant. “How did you get past the alarm?”
He watched her for a moment before answering. “You can find out anything you want to know, you just need to know the right people and ask the right questions. And, money helps.”
“How many times were you there? No. Wait. Don’t answer that.” She closed her eyes at even the mere thought of how many times he might have been there.
“Enough.” He said in answer.
“When… I… was there?” Her voice stained and broken as she asked.
Shit. He thought. That made even him think of himself as a freaking stalker. “No, well, I… There were a few times when you came home early… Listen, I know my word means nothing to you, but… I may be a lot of things; a voyeur isn’t one of them. I…” He shook his head.
“When?” Her voice now full of determination.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “The night you found out that asshole of an ex-boyfriend of yours was cheating.” She had a sudden flashback of the events of that evening. What had he seen? “You came home and I was about to leave because the last thing I wanted to see was him…” He bit his lip at the feeling that rose within him. “But you started arguing with each other. And despite the fact that he was in the wrong he was pissed off at you. I could have walked right out the front door and neither one of you would have noticed; but he kept inching closer to you. And I was thinking that if he hit you I was going to come out of hiding and beat the shit out of him. But, then I’d have to explain the how and why I was there and…” He let out an audible heavy sigh. “And then you… fuck! And I was stuck. I couldn’t get out. I had to stand there, in that little alcove next to the dining room and listen while the two of you…” He cleared his throat.
Her eyes closed and the tears streamed down her face, at the memory of things that were said that night. The things that happened and that he witnessed all of it.
“I don’t get it. You could have anyone. Anyone you want and yet you screw the guy whom you just found out was a lying, cheating bastard. He treated you like a damn rental car and you still wanted him. Why?”
She spoke through her tears, “I loved him. Haven’t you ever loved someone so much that you would have done anything for them; to keep them in your life?”
He stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Ya. Yes, I have. But I have enough self-respect to not stay with someone who’s cheating on me.”
She nodded. “Ya well, eventually I got there to.”
A minute or two they sat in silence. She was lost in her thoughts; he in his. “Are you going to kill me?”
He looked back at her, over his shoulder, void of all expression. He watched her for a few moments, and then stood to his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The sound of his footsteps and the shutting of the door, followed by the locking of the deadbolt were so horrific. It was the sound of her inevitable fate.

I LOVE THIS WOMAN! Write, write, write! its getting really intense!!!!!

Thanks Saraaa, I'm glad you're liking it. I was kind of not sure about the last two chapters, I thought they might have seemed a little boring compared to the rest. I'm soooo glad you posted this. Thanks again.
New chapter in the morning I promise.


Glad you likey!!!!

WOO!

*cheers*

I LOVE IT! Its so dark, and different, and twisted, and almost on the verge of being TOO conteroversial, but not QUITE! Its great!

No WAY were they boring! (btw)

Great updates! Can't wait to see what happens next!

I was gone over the weekend and SOOO excited when I came home and found 2 chapters. This is the first story I checked. Not boring at all. Actually, I thought they filled out the twisted DC character.

I've already said this, but your writing is amazing...this story is eliciting all sorts of contradictory feelings. Just when twisted DC seems like an awful (but very hot) man, you bring on the puppies and sweetness!

LOVE IT

Oh wow. REALLY interesting story!
And is it wrong of me to find this twisted David kinda...hot? lol

Thank you, I made the siggy myself. (Tho I'm planning to change it soon LOL)
And OMG I loooooove your update! We finally get to see the soft side of Cookie! I love the puppy part, that was just tooooo heartwarming. *heartmelts*

Yes, two chapters! Two chapters I enjoyed very much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
You inspire me to write! *gets back to writing There's No Love Like Your Love*

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT UPDATE!!! WOOHOO!!!



TWISTED COOKIE IS THE SEX!!! *cheers*
It's not wrong--it's perfect. *evil grin*

You are great!! Thanks for the confidence boost!!




Thanks... New update coming in a few minutes!!




I hope you had a great weekend, ohano. I'm so excited that this was the first story you checked upon your arrival home. Yeah!!!! That made my day.
Thanks for saying it wasn't boring and the it filled out twisted DC. Contradictory feelings, then I'm getting my point across exactly how I wanted to.
Thanks again.


So glad you like it. And as for the wrong part; twisted David is waaaaayyyy hot!!! Strangely enough. Because he probably should not be, be he sooo is!! Thanks



kayraine, I'm glad that you loved the update. The soft side of Cookie and the puppy was a little character rounding, if you will.
I've been so caught up in writing this I've not really ready any fics accept "Lessons" so I'm going to check out "There's No Love Like Your Love" right now. And then I'll post an update.
Thank you.









Chapter 11 – A Turn of Events…



“Where the hell did I put that damn knife?” He questioned out loud as he searched everywhere. Lifting cushions and pillows, magazines; looking behind tables and lamps. Fuck! Where is it? He thought.
“Looking for this?” She had crept up behind him now holding the knife to his kidney. The blade having cut through his shirt, he could feel it on his skin.
He started to turn around in an attempt to unarm her.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She pushed the tip of the blade into his skin, just barely, but enough to make him stop. “I will not hesitate to kill you. Now move! Into the room.” She poked him with the knife, picking up the handcuffs from the table as they passed it.

Once inside the room she handed him the cuffs. “Put them on! Now Sweetheart!”
He closed one side around his right wrist as she spun him around pushing him against the wall. She held the knife to his jugular. “Don’t fight me.” She mocked him, locking his other wrist into the cuffs and watching him the whole time.

His breathing was heavy and his gaze fierce, as he tried to figure a way out of this.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Scared? Speechless?” She laughed evilly. “How does it feel? Hmm? I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d slip up. Oops!” She grinned and laughed. “So, let’s see. What did you think was going to happen? Did you think that you’d bring me here and I’d come down with a sudden case of Stockholm syndrome? That I’d somehow fall for you. That I would actually want to kiss those beautiful lips of yours. Is that what you thought? That I’d enjoy your mouth on me? That eventually I’d crave it. That I’d want you? Did you actually think I would want you so badly that I would beg for it? Plead with you, just to feel you inside of me.” She smiled. “Is that what you thought would happen?”

She pushed the knife harder onto his neck and he felt a trickle of blood run down, he winced.

“Awe. Does that hurt?” She bit her lip and grinned as she looked at his neck. “That’s gonna leave a scar. That’s a shame. There is something so very sexy about your neck. So tell me. Is that fear I smell or pheromones? Is this turning you on? Me in control, you, at my mercy. Hmm? I bet you would love to take me right her, right now, wouldn’t you? As a matter of fact, I’d say, that right about now you’re thinking about sliding your arms over my head and throwing me back against that wall. You are, aren’t you? Would you like that?”

He watched as desire filled her eyes and took the pace of wrath on her face. “I would.” She smiled as she said it. “Something about this much power is incredibly erotic.”

He started to raise his arms; she pressed her body into him. Her mouth closing in on his; millimeters from his wanton mouth she whispered, “You are going to rot in here you sadistic bastard.”

She ran through the door closing it behind her. She locked it just as he got to it.

Banging. Pounding on the door. “No! Fuck! Let me out of here!” He yelled. Tears forming in his eyes he yelled and screamed, yanking and pulling on the door handle. Pounding on the door until his hands ached. He realized no one could hear him. No one would come. The tears flowed freely now and he slid to the floor falling onto his knees with a thud. His forehead bouncing off of the door as he dropped it. He touched his neck and when he pulled his hand away it was covered in his blood.


Suddenly he awoke. Sitting straight up in his bed. Beads of sweat trickling down his face and neck. He touched his neck, swearing that he could feel that searing pain he’d felt in his dream as she cut him. He looked at his hand, double checking that it was not his blood that dampened him.

His breathing was erratic and his heart was racing. “Fuck!” Tears began to pool in his eyes, he shook it off. The sheets beneath him were damp and cold and his shirt was clinging to him; he peeled if off as he stood.

The puppy was whining, probably has to go, he thought. Grabbing a clean shirt he put it on as he walked from his room.

The hallway was dark with shadows that made him feel circumspect as he walked on the cold, hard wood. He approached her room, grabbing the door handle gingerly; checking to make sure it was still locked. He laughed as he thought about how that dream had affected him.
She can’t get out, Cook. It was just a dream.

A nightmare in so many aspects.


He put the puppy back into the pen and walked to her door; contemplating whether or not to go in. He decided he would. Turning the lock he opened the door slowly and quietly he stepped inside. She lay in the bed motionless hoping that if she appeared to be asleep he would just go away. He didn’t.

He stood over the bed watching her ‘sleep’. She stirred slightly just to see his reaction. He took a half step back but that was all.

He sat down as reticently as he could. It took all the restraint she had to keep still as he moved aside a chocolate brown curl that had fallen over her eye. The last thing she had said to him reverberating through the recesses of his mind. “Are you going to kill me”…. He hadn’t answered her. What was he supposed to say? How do you answer a question like that? What must she have been thinking of before she fell asleep? He tried to imagine the nightmares she might have been having. He lay down next to her on his side, facing her, watching her. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her. What was he doing? And how long could she lie there completely motionless? Did he know she was pretending to be asleep? A few tears fell from his eyes. Ricky was right. He thought. What was he thinking? She would never… what would he do now? He smirked as he thought, I’m too pretty to go to prison. But the alternative was… incomprehensible, unfathomable…

“I don’t want to kill you.” He said in a soft, whispery voice. But in her ears it sounded like a bullhorn.
What does that mean? She wondered.

Can I just say that I sooooooo LOVE YOUR IMAGINATION RIGHT NOW ZOMG
You're making me forget horrible nightmares yeah LOL if ya know what i mean *wink* LOL kidding.
No seriously, I can't wait for another update!

And I realized I posted that before I read the update and OMG I'm so craving for more!!! I LOVE IT!!!

(I somehow knew that the Daniella taking over and hurting David part wasn't real. I like it the other way around. LOL)

I love it!!!!

So happy that you love it!!! I like it the other way around too. Please tell me why it is so much of a turn on to write this twisted stuff..... ahhhhhhhh