Captured (erotic) (#5, 101 Nights)

Chapter Five: Alisha

The ping of my computer wrenches me out of my slumber. George wore me out with his relentless lust and stamina. Instead of getting up like I should have earlier, I stayed in bed to catch a couple hours of deep, restful sleep.

But the ping … ah, the ping! It’s what I’ve been waiting to hear for two weeks! I all but dive across the bed and scramble the rest of the way to my laptop. My legs are shaky, my muscles sore in places I didn’t know existed.

I click on the alert and suck in a breath as it pops up. Scanning the nonsensical code only people like George and me can read, I almost scream in excitement. “Natalie!”

She remembered!

It’s an old trick, an emergency phone number I made her memorize once upon a long time ago. All she has to do is dial it from any device she gets her hands on, and I can find her using the local cell towers to triangulate her position. I pull on shoes and pick up the laptop again.

“I bet you’re not laughing at my zombie apocalypse preparations now, are you?” I whisper fiercely to no one in particular. A lifetime of being ridiculed for my mild paranoid has just been vindicated and justified a million times over.

Tears fill my eyes, and I click the button to narrow down where the ping came from. While waiting for the map to pop up on the slow ass palace wifi, I hurry to the closet, where my clothing is neatly folded. I should take a shower but …

I like the way my skin smells. I take a deep whiff. It’s George and me, and it makes my whole world brighter to smell him.

Pulling on an outfit that most closely resembles the way the women here dress, I snatch a mismatching scarf for my hair and return to the laptop, brimming with excitement.

“Oh, yuck.” There must be interference where she is or not enough cell towers to bounce the signal around. I can’t get any closer than a three-by-three block range.

But a few blocks are better than anything I had before. It’s the wharf district, a one-mile square area of warehouses at the main port in Nijala.

Nothing is going to stand in my way now. Not the men George has guarding his room, not Hasan and his jackass minions. If I have to search every damn warehouse in that area, I will.

Buzzing on adrenaline, I put my laptop into its case and sling it across my chest. It’s almost time to go for my local stash of money. Having a local friend definitely helped in that regard, and a pile of money is sitting in a Western Union waiting for me, thanks to Miriam’s help. I get one shot at grabbing it and running before someone – namely George – figures it out. My plan is to have Natalie with me when I do. Now that I know about where she is, I’m one step closer to ditching George forever.

But do I want to? I stop in my tracks in front of the closed bedroom door. I’m fevered, the sense of giddiness racing through me only partially fueled by my discovery this morning.

George. George. George. As passionate and intense in bed as he is cool outside. I never thought I’d see an ever softer side of him, one that comforted me the two times I got scared last night and held me until I was ready for another round of mind blowing sex. He let me be in control without questioning anything I told him to do, even if it ended with both of us collapsing into laughter that lasted ten minutes and led to even hotter, more intimate and satisfying lovemaking.

I’m smiling. I don’t want to feel this warm, bubbling emotion, the sense that he pierced much more than my pussy last night. I knew I’d be hurt when this is over but had no idea that one night with George was enough to show me a world I didn’t know exists, one where I was protected, worshipped, no longer afraid. My life has always been a series of events spinning out of control, but for one night, that all ended.