The Gorgeous Naked Man in my Storm Shelter (Erotic Suspense) (13 page)

Don swallows,
the Adam’s apple on his throat visibly moving like a mouse
running
up and down. It’s
clear on his face that he is uncomfortable about this. My fists
wring themselves behind the chair in their handcuffed state.
I
led
him to this. I provoked her into
displaying her power over us, and Don is now her unwilling
victim.

Smiling,
Pamela Sansky (I can never think of her as a mere Pamela) continues
to pump him into a state of erection. I suppose men can’t help
themselves. They are creatures of sensation.
As she does so, her other hand wanders to his balls
and squeezes them.

Don’s chest rises
and falls.

He is finally
erect. His gorgeous cock stands
at attention, so huge that when Pamela Sansky slaps it
unkindly to his abdomen, it reaches his belly button.

“Very nice,” she
pronounces. “So this is what you’ve been sticking into her.”

“
What do you
want of me?” He is glum.

“
I want a
little piece of that action. You have the ability of a fucking
machine,” she replies, admiration in her voice.

“You’ve spied on
us,” he accuses.

“Yes, of
course.”

“I’m not going to
fuck you.”

The agony
within me is excruciating. I know how hard Don is resisting, but I
also know that her threats about me will ultimately win him over.
So she wants me to watch. She wants to torture me this
way.

“
Un
less you want to visit
pain unto her, you have no choice.” She takes off her jacket, and
then her skirt.

“You’re
bluffing.”

“
Try me. I
don’t even have to go through the traditional methods. All it takes
a needle, a syringe, some really potent drugs, and she will be
putty in my hands.”

“You’re going to
have to drug me to get me to fuck you.”

“Oh no, I don’t, and
you know it. Stop talking. It doesn’t improve you.”

She’s wearing
black lacy panties, and she slides this off, revealing a reddish
thatch of fur. Her blouse is still on. She places her buttocks on
the edge of the examination slab and opens her legs.

“Now fuck me,” she
commands.

“Don!” I cry again.
But I know it’s futile.

His muscles
are all tense and his face is a mask of pain. Moving as though he
is in a vat of molasses, he goes towards her. She inches
h
er buttocks in a little
farther and spreads her thighs wider. He’s very close to her now at
the edge of the table. He grabs his cock and places its proud head
at the opening of her gaping vagina.

Something in
me dies.
I taste my own salt
tears on my lips but make no move to lick them away.

“I hate you,” he
declares.

“
Don’t be a
child. Shove it in.”

Something on his
beautiful face shifts. “And maybe you made a mistake.”

With a
movement quicker than lightning, he
grabs her neck. Before she can cry out, he does
something that I can’t really see to a certain point in her neck,
and she collapses like putty onto the table.

My heart is
pounding in my ears. He hasn’t killed her, has he? Though I
wouldn’t
blame him if he did.
I would kill her myself. But there’s a slow rise and fall to her
chest as she lies comatose on the table with her legs dangling over
the edge.

Don goes to
her
jacket and searches its
pockets.

“Don!” I cry. He
won’t know where I am unless I do something.

He retrieves
her gun
and several other
objects that I can’t really discern. Then he quickly dresses,
pulling on his jeans, T-shirt and shoes which have all been dropped
onto the floor in crumpled heaps.

I have an idea.

Using every
ounce of my strength, I hop towards the door. It’s an excruciating
process
, and my wrists jerk
with pain against the cold steel of the handcuffs every step of the
way. By the time I manage to inch myself there, Don is fully clad
in the clothes he came in.

“Don!”

He still can’t hear
me.

With the
sole
s of my feet, I try to
batter the door down. But it’s solid metal and possibly made to
resist people like me.

“Don!” I scream.
“Don, Don, Don!”

I kick and
kick at the door, succeeding in making a godawful cacophony that
would probably bring every agent in the vicinity down upon
us.

Don disappears
from view as he heads for his door.

I escalate my
banging and screaming.

“Don! Let me
out!”

Scrapes of something
metallic ensue outside.

“Jean?” I hear Don’s
frantic voice.

“Don!” I almost weep
with relief. “Please let me out.”

“
I . . . I
don’t have the security clearance.” He sounds desperate. “Wait. I
know what to do.”

The
seconds tick by dreadfully slow. I
can see him as he runs back to the room and bodily hauls Pamela
Sansky off the table. Her head rolls back like a rag doll’s as he
carries her out of the room. I really hope she isn’t dead. I know
it’s foolish of me to want to believe Don has never killed anyone
in his life – especially if he had been some sort of captain in his
crimson world – but I just don’t want to witness it
firsthand.

I wait a few
more bloodcurdling moments until the door slides open.
I reckon he used Pamela Sansky’s
fingerprint on the scanner.

“Jean,” he cries,
anguished.

I have never
seen anything so beautiful in my life as his shining face. He
quickly
unlocks my handcuffs
with the metal stick key that he found in Pamela Sansky’s
clothes.

“
We don’t have
much time,” I say.
“I think I
made too much noise.”

“
L
et’s go.”

We bolt out of
the passageway, leaving Pamela Sansky’s half-naked body on the
floor beside the door of the viewing chamber. I’m worried about
slowing Don down.

“Where are we
going?” I ask breathlessly as my legs pump as fast as they can to
keep up with Don.

“
I’ve studied
this building
or at least the
places they let me access. And I think I know a way.”

We round a corner,
and come face to face with several agents with cocked guns at the
other end of the passageway.

“Oh shit,” I
say.

Don pulls me
away. He squats down quickly.

“
Jean, get on
my back.”

“Wh – ?”

“Do it.”

I put my arms
around his neck from behind and wrap my legs around his
waist.

“OK?” he says.

“OK.”

As the agents
dash around the corner, Don takes off. I thought I would be
prepared for the ride that follows, but I was wrong. The corridor
walls rush at me at blinding speed. I have to cling to Don with
every scrap of strength I have, and he seems to sense this too
because he clutches my legs to his waist. A projectile zings past
us. I turn, and see another agent heading us off.

Don pivots and
hurtles down yet another featureless corridor.
My head is whirling and my vision threatens to
go blank. I’m in a sheer state of disequilibrium, as though I’m in
a rollercoaster that I have not prepared my stomach for.

Wall after grey wall
whisk by. We careen past ‘Restricted’ doors, ominous labs and
mysterious storage areas. More agents pop out of the steelwork and
fire their projectiles at us. One such projectile strikes a wall
above my head, missing me by mere inches. Instead of coring out a
hole in the wall, it slides off and falls to the floor instead. I
turn back to gaze upon it.

It’s not a bullet,
but a dart.

I’m guessing it’s
drugged. Meant to bring us down, not kill us.

I don’t know
what will happen to us if we are caught. From the way he’s picking
up velocity, Don seems to realize this too. He zooms straight for a
blank wall. I almost cry out, thinking he’s gone mad, but he leaps
for a grill at the top, using the wall as leverage in some sort of
superhuman feat, and tears it off.

We dive
into the square opening that is
revealed. And we are inside the air vent.

“Keep your body
pressed to mine and your head down,” Don warns me.

As if I
wouldn’t. The passageway is very low and I am in danger of bumping
my scalp against the ceiling.
As we get farther and farther away from the corridor, the
light dims until it becomes an almost absolute darkness.

Don crawls
with alarming alacrity on his hands and knees. He’s like a spider.
I don’t know if anyone can possibly follow us in this
manner.
I know I certainly
can’t see anything beyond my nose, and even that is suspect. In a
way, this helps to settle my heaving guts. I close my eyes,
entrusting my entire being to Don. I have no choice. At least no
tranquilizer darts seem to be hurtling after us now.

We travel this
way for what seems like an eternit
y. Sometimes my sense of position is upwards, and other times
it seems to be sideways. I have lost all sense of where we are. I’m
only conscious of my own weakening arms and legs around Don’s
super-athletic body.

Finally, the
passageway l
ightens. We reach
the end of a tunnel that connects to the interior of a tall
silo-like structure. Down below in its deep, deep bowels, I hear
the churning sound of turbines. The wind here is very
strong.

“Hold on tightly,”
Don instructs me.

My strength is
leaving me in droves, but I cannot let Don know that. I must not
let him down.

“What’s wrong?” he
says, sensing my weakening grip.

“
Nothing.
”

“
Jean, don’t
lie to me. You’re shivering.”

In concern, he puts
me down on the floor of the tunnel.

“I’m not cold.”

“
You’re
shivering from fatigue,” he insists. “You need to rest.”

“We can’t rest.
Leave me here, Don. You’re the one they want. Not me.” I’m so tired
that I can only manage a whimper. I’m not sure he can even hear me
above the shriek of the turbines.

“I’ll never leave
you. I got you into this. I’ll get you out.”

He
starts to take off his
shirt.

“What are you
doing?” A blurry part of my mind thinks he has gone mad. This is no
time for lovemaking.

“Making do with what
we have.”

He strips off his
jeans as well. His cock and balls bob against his muscled
thighs.

“Now climb onto me
again, Jean.”

I am too weak
to do anything but obey. As soon as I get on, he throws his jeans
around my body and his in a harness, and ties the legs in front of
his waist. I’m layered against his back as tightly as he can get
me. As for my wrists, he ties them together in front of his
neck.

“Now you won’t
accidentally drop off.”

A good thing
he did this, because he doesn’t prepare me for what happens next.
He leaps into the silo.

I scream – an
ear-splitting sound that must certainly jar his eardrums – before I
realize that we are not falling. His hands and feet
are gripping the metal rungs embedded
in the wall. I was so dazed that I hadn’t even seen them. He is
vaulting us up, up and up the wall of the silo – away from the
awful rotors down below and into the night sky above.

We finally
reach the blessed top. The moon is full and bathes us in her
glorious radiance. The stars shine brightly
down onto our heads. I look down, and my heart almost
falls out of my mouth. The entire ‘silo’ is embedded in a rocky
cliff.

We
tee
ter on the edge of a
precipice that falls away into the roaring waters below.

Just
w
here the hell are we? I’m not
aware we are anywhere near the coast. Unless this is one of the
Great Lakes.

Don
stands at the edge. Every muscle of
his is tense. “Now, Jean, I want you to be very brave. Don’t worry,
all right? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“What are you going
to do?”

“
Take a deep,
deep breath. And close your eyes.”

Oh shit.

Shit shit shit
shit
. He’s going to do it.
He’s really going to do it.

I gulp in as much
air as my lungs possibly can take.

“Ready?”

No, I’m not, I want
to yell, but I’m too busy holding in my breath.

Don leaps off
the cliff into the crashing waves far, far below. I close my eyes.
The wind whistles in my ears as my hair is whipped. The air is
choked with the smell of fresh water. I can’t feel my heart
thudding anymore but for the furious bubbling of my
blood.

Even my mental
prayer is snatched away by the wind.

We hit the
water, Don taking the entire brunt of it. All of a sudden, I’m in
dead calm. All sounds are deadened. The water closes in all around
me, and I refuse to open my eyes. Don’s pectorals exert themselves,
and although I’m too scared to see what is happening, I know that
he is swimming away against the tide. I can only hope he can bear
my weight for some time longer because I’m certain I can’t be an
easy burden.