Learning to Drown (3 page)

The door of the bigger vehicle
slammed. I steeled myself and belted out the loudest scream possible. The sound
bounced back--a shot gun blast of noise--my head swimming with my own terrified
shouts and the dull electric reverberation.

“Who’s that?”

The voice was rich and gruff. I felt
warm just hearing it. It quelled my fears to know that he, whoever the hell
he
was, could hear me. I wouldn’t die half naked in a utility box, after all!
I could just hear my mother now, bemoaning my white trash death. One simply
does not die in the back of a pickup. If you must die in a vehicle go for a
Bentley or a Rolls-Royce. I shook my head to clear it. “Me! It is me. The lady
in the box! I’m in the toolbox! Please, oh, god, please. If you hear me, which
you clearly do,” I babbled. “Please, let me out! Now!”

“Hello?” I could hardly hear him. A
cold sweat popped up, followed by a hot flash and a surge of arousal. Fun. The
cold sweat pricked my upper lip even as my pussy warmed. My nipples apparently
thought they  were turned on when they were simply frozen. Wasn’t this what
happened when you died? Your whole body went haywire? And why was my pussy wet?
That sealed it, I was insane.

Jesus Christ, I had to stop thinking
death thoughts, the man was right there! I flailed around, making as much noise
as possible. Hopefully I wouldn‘t just knock myself unconscious. The  point was
to be really loud so he wouldn’t leave me here. “In here. Here!” I banged
awkwardly with my knees and hands until blood trickled from my knuckles.

I strained to hear the sound of the
crunch and pop of boots on gravel. And it occurred to me, who was this person?
And what would happen if I got out of the box? Who, exactly, was I dealing
with?

Chapter 2

I jumped when someone banged the
outside of the box. Another huge scream burbled out of me and my poor ears
roared with the feedback.

“Yes! Yes, in here!” I rolled from
side to side ridiculously elated and relieved. “Here I am. I am freezing.
Hurry, please open the box! Oh, please mister whoever you are, open the box.”

“Motherfucker,” he said. He was close
enough for me to make out his words clearly now. “Lady where’s the key?”

The key? Where was the key? I took a
shot in the dark. “The key ring!”

The truck had been running when it was
taken. So surely they were on the key ring. But something in my mind said no.
No. Damien lost his key and gotten a spare. Where had he hidden it? Where?

I held my breath when his footsteps
receded. Lucky bastard, outside instead of in a big stainless steel coffin. The
truck door open, it screamed because it needed to be oiled. I prayed.
Please
God, I’m not so sure where you stand on sex games and I know Damien and I
aren’t married. And you may be totally against handcuffs barring their use for
law enforcement, but please…Please, oh please, let the key be on that ring. I
swear I will only wear big white granny panties forever and ever amen if that
key is on that ring and he can save me! Amen and Hallelujah and thank you Lord
Jesus, Saint Peter, Mother Mary, The Holy Spirit and Joan of Arc…

I was way out of my element when it
came to religion or prayers, but fuck it. It was worth a shot.

“Hey!”
Bang, bang, bang.
He
rapped on the box and my head ached worse. I  had a killer of a migraine and
would gladly chew off my right arm to be free. “Lady. There is no key for this
box on that ring. Any other ideas?”

Where? Where, oh where had that stupid
fucktard Damien put his key so that he would not lose it? He didn’t use it
often. He never locked the damn thing but for our game. Tears streaked my face,
growing cold as they ran. Oh sweet God, where was it?

…I lose everything you know that. So I
put it in my wallet behind the condom.

I was screwed. “Oh no!” I wailed,
completely defeated. I tried to be a make it work kind of girl. But how did one
make frostbite and imminent death by hypothermia work for them?

“Don’t cry!” he said. His tone clipped
and annoyed. The sharp order somehow comforting given the circumstances. 

“I can’t help it.” I could feel that
he was
there
and it was reassuring. I was not alone. If I pressed my
hand to the cold metal he was only inches away. “I’m scared and freezing. I’m
going to die.”

“You’re not going to die.” His voice
sneaked through the seams in the metal. A rough voice like sandpaper on the
skin. It got into my head and made me have to fight not to beg. Get me out now!
Please, please, please save me! Instead I fought shivers and curled up as tight
as I could to keep warm.

“You don’t understand.” He pulled at
the lock and let it fall. The heavy
bong
felt like it was in my skull. I
clenched my jaw harder.

“What don’t I understand?” His hands
slid along the seams of the lid and I held my breath, praying.

“I’m practically naked.” I blurted out
my dirty confession. A muscle in my calf doubled up on me. Pain shot up my leg
to my ass and I made that horrible dying cow sound.

“What’s wrong now? Are you okay?” For
just an instant he sounded worried. But calm prevailed. “Tell me what you’re
talking about.” A poof of cold air slid under the tiny crack he made when he
tested the lid. The slack didn‘t even allow a crack big enough for him to peek
in at me. I was grateful for a moment but realized he‘d see me anyway. Hopefully.
When he rescued me.

If he rescues you.
I couldn’t let myself think that way.

“I’m not so much…um…dressed.” Would it
be inappropriate to just beat my head against the metal until I achieved a
blissful state of unconsciousness? Probably. “I’m nearly naked.”

“Look, lady, are you naked? If you’re
naked we have a problem because you’ve been in there a while and it’s pretty
fucking cold out here.” The lock jangled again as he messed with it. Was he
picking it?

“I’m in a bra and panties and…”

“
And?”

“Handcuffs and rope.” Another blurted
confession.

Total silence. Total. Fucking.
Silence.

And then, a slow cruel chuckle. “Okay.
Got it. I hijacked you during a game. Okay. Sit tight. Think warm thoughts.
I’ve got some bolt cutters in the back of my truck. I’ll have you out of there
before all the good stuff is frozen.” Another soft chuckle that seemed to
tiptoe up my spine like soft little cat paws. “Don’t move.”

I threw back my head, frustrated
beyond measure. “Like I have a choice!”

* * * *

When that lid swung back, revealing a
blue-black sky dotted with pinpricks of white stars, I cried. I imagined this
is what it was like to be pulled from the ocean in a riptide right before you
started sucking water into your lungs. A very big man gazed in at me, saying nothing
at all. My body clenched tight like a fist. I didn’t think it was possible to
be colder than I was right at that moment. His mouth moved but all I heard were
my own hysterical sobs. I was inexplicably terrified now that I had been saved.

“What?” My teeth chattered louder. I
couldn‘t hear him over my own clicking jaws. “One more time,” I said.

“I said, come here. Take my hand.” And
then he simply took my bound hands in his. He pulled me to my feet. My body
balked at unclenching. It hurt to unbend myself.

“Green, eh?” He smiled. When my knees
gave out, he caught me. Effortlessly. As if I were some tiny boneless rag doll
instead of long and leggy and completely awkward at the moment. I realized he
meant my bra and panties.

“I was feeling spring-like.” My body
melded to him instantly. He could have been Jack the Ripper and it wouldn’t
have mattered. He was
warm
.

“Too bad for you it’s like twelve
degrees,” he said. “But I’m digging the panties. And the thought behind them.”
The truck rocked when he walked to the edge of the bed. When he jumped to the
ground, I prayed again.
Please do not let the large slightly scary man drop
me. My legs are bound. So are my hands. All my bones will break. Please let him
be athletic. Amen.

He landed easily but I huddled closer.
“Freezing,“ I said. I yawned. I was so tired.

The stranger smoothed his hand over my
ass, thumbed the back of my thigh. His fingers stroked my lower back. His hands
tried to warm me but there was too much of me bare to warm. My body responded,
though sluggishly, when he palmed my bottom. His heat penetrated me.
“F-f-freezing,” I said.

“I’m working on it. Let’s get you in
the cab. I have some overalls in the back and I think a spare jacket. The
heat’s on full blast. And then…” He laughed again. It was a nice only slightly
terrifying laugh.

“Then?”

“We’ll deal with the cuffs.”

I  rubbed my hands together as well as
I could while cuffed. I buried my face against his blue jacket and willed
myself to vanish. To time travel back  and decide tonight was not the night for
the abduction game. He opened the cab and the light winked on. His eyes were
dark brown and warm, laugh lines crowded the corners, stubble peppered his
chin. Dirty blond hair and a sharp nose. “I’m still here, “ I said. Beyond
embarrassed, beyond mortified.

He pulled the knots and freed my legs,
face intent like he was working a puzzle. “Yep. Sorry, it wasn’t a dream,
girl.  Just you and me. Your knight in shining armor.” He smirked and left me
on the cracked vinyl seat. The heater poured warm air over me. I put my hands
out to soak it up.

“But you are my knight in shining
armor,” I said. It was safe to say it because he wasn‘t there to hear.

When he got back he looked less sure
of himself. Or maybe he was just freaked out by finding prisoner me locked up
like a heroine in a bad horror movie. “Did you steal me?“ I blurted. God help
me, my panties were wet. I didn’t realize until I blurted it out, but there it
was. And what was there to stop him from seeing that if he chose to look?
Nothing at all. The panties certainly were not going to shield me from those
eyes.

Stupid abduction fixation. What a time
for it to rear its head. Now. With nothing between his gaze and my truth but a
pair of lime green panties. A very real urge to kiss him arose. Followed
closely by the need to have him kiss me.

“Technically, yes. Does that flip your
switch?” He wrapped me in a thick wool blanket. “Better than the overalls while
you still have those on.” He nodded to the shiny silver cuffs holding me
captive. “So back to our conversation, don’t ignore me--does that get you off?”

I studied my fingernails, busted and
cracked now from my ordeal. I watched him work bolt cutters over the chain
between the cuffs. “A bit. The whole abduction thing is a fantasy kind of thing
for me.” Jesus. Why was I telling him this? Easy. He’d asked me and I felt
compelled to answer.

He nodded as if it were the most
normal thing in the world. “I figured it was something like that. No big deal.
Do you possibly want to know my name?” The metal chain parted like warm butter
and there I sat in two heavy silver, but separate, bracelets.

“Thank you,” I said. “And yes, I would
very much like to know. What is your name? My name is Ember Sullivan.”

He stared at me. “Ember. Nice. Very
hot. And I’m sure that is the first time you’ve heard that.” He pulled a pair
of overalls from the front seat and tossed them to me. “My name is Lucas. Or
Luke if you prefer. And I just took your boyfriend’s truck because he hasn’t
been paying and it’s my job. I repo from guys like that.”

I shrugged into the overalls, shaking
so badly that he finally reached over and helped me. His big fingers worked the
snaps over my bare skin. There was another urge, I noted clinically. The urge
to arch up into his big, nicked up, grease stained hand. Place my frozen breast
into his warm palm with a small shift of my body. Instead I said, “My full name
is September. Bet you can’t guess what month I was born.”

That earned me another laugh. His eyes
found mine and then he was back to the snaps. I shifted, nervous and excited.
“So, Damien wasn’t paying on the truck. Hunh.” Then it hit me. “Shit! I bet he
reported me missing for real. I mean, he clearly wasn’t expecting you.”

“Damien and Ember,” Lucas said. He
climbed in and turned the key. The engine caught, complained, and the air from
the dash got hotter. “How very Dante’s
Inferno
. Before you get your
panties in a bunch
¾
”more laughter here that made me blush
¾
“let
me call your man and see what he says.”

I was afraid of what he would find
out. Sad but true. I waited, body trembling even under the huge overalls and
the blanket. The wool smelled vaguely of gas and possibly dog. He handed me a
hot cup of coffee while he dialed. The heat from the cup nearly made me weep
with joy.

“Lucky guy.” I barely heard him over
the engine. “I‘m done for the night and I find his girl all trussed up in her
pretty green panties. Pretty panties, pretty girl. I might not give you back,”
he teased.

There it was again. My secret little
fetish.
I might not give you back.
My initial secret instinct was to
submit and please. I sipped instead, the coffee burned my tongue.  It gave me
something to focus on, that hot little pain on my tongue.