Stalking Amber Ch. 04

"Very well," he smoothly recovered, taking a deep breath to calm his excitement. Keeping his lust under control with great difficulty, he calmly sat on the edge of the bed. "What would you like to do now?"

Now it was Amber's turn to pause. It was as though they played a game of chess, one step at a time, waiting for the other's move, anticipating what next in the long term. If she kept telling him to go away, it was only a matter of time before he would lose patience and forcefully mount her. But she didn't want to have sex with him right away either.

"I want to talk," she said flatly, fighting the urge to move backwards. "I want to know more about you," she insisted, wanting as much information as she could to convey to the police after they'd hauled his ass to jail.

Brad laughed. "What do you want to know, Amber?"

For a wondering moment, Amber watched him, fascinated. Even though he was a monster, no one could ever deny he was gorgeous. Relaxing by the end of the bed, still half-naked, he looked an image whom any girl, puberty and beyond, would ache to possess. It was bizarre bearing witness to his casual charisma, hearing his deep, richly carefree laugh. No one would guess he was a kidnapper, captor, rapist. A man who would snatch a stranger off the street and repeatedly force himself upon her.

"Ummm... how was your childhood?" she offered lamely, her cheeks flushing red at the hollow question, the realisation they both knew she was obviously stalling.

"Baby," Brad chuckled, moving closer. Amber didn't fight as he drew her into his arms, and stiffly allowed him to pull her into his embrace. He kissed her temple and against his neck she sighed angrily. "You're just too cute."

In close proximity, Brad felt his body heat again with arousal. Against his bare skin, Amber sensed the change, felt his heartbeat thudding against his chest, and weakly tried to disengage from his hold.

"I want to look around," she mumbled, petulantly pushing against him, aggravated that her efforts meant absolutely nothing against his strength. She could feel the hardness of his chest and arms, tightening around her with suffocating control.

"Sure," he said easily, much to her surprise. Standing from the bed, he held out his hand. "On the condition your hand never leaves mine," he clarified firmly, grinning at her wide-eyed astonishment.

Hesitantly placing her small hand in his, Amber clambered from the bed and stepped toward the door. Brad immediately followed her lead. Heart racing, she entered the hall, but started as Brad gently pulled her up short.

"Not that way," he cautioned, seeing she was headed for the staircase. "Just upstairs for now." Amber swallowed and nodded.

They slowly walked down the hallway together. Amber inspected the paintings with feigned interest, aware Brad's eyes never left her.

There were a few doors along the way, the first Amber opened and peeked inside. It was an artists studio, flooded with canvas, unfinished paintings and art paraphernalia. She gasped, spotting a large half-finished portrait of herself, peacefully asleep. Her blonde hair brightly cascaded across the white pillow, with the sky blue blanket pulled up over her chest, leaving her naked shoulders on display.

Even Amber couldn't deny she looked artistically exceptional. No observer would realise she was chained to the bed, an unwilling captive. Gritting her teeth, she hurriedly backed out of the room. After a huge effort not to slam the door, she abruptly snapped it shut.

"Did you like it?" Brad queried, knowing what she'd seen.

"Sure," Amber crisply responded, tugging him further down the hall as he chuckled at her hostility.

As Amber went to open the next door, Brad placed his hand over hers as a warning.

"This is my bedroom," he said quietly. "You're very welcome to explore it, at your own risk."

Comprehending perfectly, Amber snatched her hand away from the handle as though it was poisonous. Brad's shoulders shook with silent laughter at her reaction, and he teasingly squeezed her hand in his.

"I'm sure you'll get to know that room very well," he joked. Though he phrased it light-heartedly, Amber fully registered the threat.

Approaching the next door, Brad blew out a long, contemplative breath, and slowed down as though rethinking whether he should let her open it. Amber felt the hesitation as he paused, halting her stride. Looking up at him, Amber saw his eyes dim with thoughtful uncertainty, and wondered what vulnerably lay in the other room.

Perhaps it was something deeply personal or sensitive. Completely forgetting what normally followed her misbehaviour, Amber's pale eyes brightened with spite and she practically licked her lips at the prospect of seriously hurting his feelings. The moment passed, and evidently Brad decided to allow it. Amber turned the handle and entered.

Carefully watching her, Brad saw Amber's jaw drop. Vibrant eyes glazing over with horror, a dead expression swept across her face. Then, understanding dawned, promptly followed by hysteria. Brad immediately regretted his decision. It was too early.

The room was recently decorated, with the lingering scent of fresh paint and new furniture. It was a nursery, beautifully decked out. A cot, rocking chair, everything in preparation for a newborn. Toys, colour and brightly cushioned comfort. Beside the cot was a small, brown standalone shelf, stacked with books. The titles were glaringly readable. 'Home parenting', 'Home-school your child', 'Remote medical emergencies'...

"No..." Amber jerked her hand from Brad's and spun around to face him. "Oh, my God! No!" she cried, raising both hands to her cheeks and backing away.

"Amber," Brad warned, holding up both palms to calm her. "Don't be like this..."

"When did you-!? What is this!" she shouted as he bore down on her, seizing her wrists with both hands. "I won't have your child, Brad!" she screamed, twisting as he pulled her towards him. "I'd rather die! I won't! No!"

"Stop screaming, Amber," he growled into her ear as she writhed against him. "Or I'll find something to gag you with." He thrusts his hips forwards, and Amber felt his hard cock press into her belly. The robe had worked its way open and she was naked against him. Feeling her bare chest against his, Brad savoured her enticing warmth.

Keeping her arms pinned with one large hand, his other couldn't resist slipping between them to stroke her breasts. Feeling her nipples harden beneath his fingertips, he exhaled sharply to pull himself together. Though he wanted to take it further, get inside her, deep down it wouldn't feel right. He didn't want to rape Amber in the room he had designed for their first child.

"No, no, no! You can't do this, you can't!" Amber wept.

It wasn't just paranoid fear of an incidental outcome, it was an official plan. Brad intended to impregnate her. How could she ever escape if handicapped by pregnancy? Or, heaven forbid, a child? The force of the realisation was like a physical hit to her whole being. Then, she found her voice.

"You phycho!" she shrieked, tugging against his hold on her wrists and trying to shift his hand from her breasts. "You fucking deluded nutcase! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" she screamed herself hoarse, and tried to knee him in the nuts.

Brad easily deflected her aim with his leg and quickly pressed forward, pinning her against the cot and crushing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss, stifling her screams. Pulling back, he quickly covered her mouth with his hand and looked into her beautifully wide, horrified eyes.

"I'm sorry. You weren't ready," he soothed, trying to settle her. "It's not for right now, calm down, Amber, just calm down...Trust me, we'll get there."

He couldn't have said anything worse.

Seeing the fierce obsession in Brad's handsome face as he gazed down at her, Amber squeezed her eyes shut and groaned against his palm, tears running down her cheeks. Unable to escape his proximity, she stamped her foot angrily.

'So much for exploring,' Brad thought with exasperation, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Amber's, holding her firmly in place as she struggled against him.

"Shhhhh, you don't want to say anything you'll regret later," he gently hushed her. As she frantically shook her head to dislodge his hand, he held her steady until her efforts tired her out.

Amber needed to talk some sense into him. She'd heard of women being impregnated in captivity, and considered that concept wholly unbearable, a living nightmare that only existed in third world countries torn apart by unchecked violence and rampant sexual abuse. Not in her world, not in a civilised society. It never seemed possible that she would ever find herself in an even remotely similar scenario.

She would truly be his property, tied to him forever. She'd struggled with the rapes, being ripped from her boyfriend and the comfortable life she had come to love, and she was still coming to terms with Brad's deep obsession. But the thought of having his child, as his prisoner, was too much. She felt overwhelmed, on the brink of insanity.

In front of Amber's face, Brad's wide chest appeared blurred, the room framed by a stifling blackness that enveloped her world, taking her breath away.

As she slumped against Brad in a dead faint, he scooped her into his arms. Contemplatively dropping a kiss to the top of her head, Brad stared at the empty cot. His blue eyes were troubled, but determined.

After a long moment he quietly left the room with Amber, strolled down the hall, back into the guest room. Feeling her forehead after carefully laying her down, he gently clicked the chain back to her ankle and covered her with the bedsheet. Then he retreated to the black settee on the other side of the room and lay back on it, thoughtfully staring up at the ceiling.

Blessed with looks, charisma and money, Brad never struggled with women, ever. Frowning, he recalled an adored pet given to him as a young child. It was a beautiful, soft, white kitten. All he wanted was its love. But it didn't matter what treats he gave or the time he devoted - it wasn't interested. He would gently hold the kitten in his arms, whilst it irritably fought to escape his touch. Just like Amber. Eventually, he'd given the cat the distance it wanted. But Amber was a woman, his chosen companion. So what if she didn't feel the same way, yet?

Brad angrily turned onto his side. What the hell did he expect? For her to clap her hands and tell him it was all she ever wanted? But as far as his actions went, he felt no regret whatsoever. The outcome was worth it. He had time to change her mind. Or just enjoy her as he desired. Keeping Amber in captivity was better than having never met her at all, or worse, watching her with another man. Like Fred. Fucking Fred.

Thinking of Amber's boyfriend, Brad's jaw tightened and his eyes blazed. A sharp stab of jealousy cut him from the inside as he thought about Fred and Amber together, accompanied by an irrepressible frustration that Fred experienced the role Brad wanted. Needed...

Amber stirred, and Brad jumped up to check on her. Approaching the bed, he realised she was still out. Smiling, he considered getting into bed with her, stroking her hair, enjoying her warm softness against him. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woken up with him, naked.

************

Not trusting himself to drive, Fred sat in his car, blankly staring into the parked car ahead. He'd heard of people hallucinating in their grief, wanting a sign so desperately that they imagined things.

"...before I go home to fuck your girlfriend..."

Fred slammed the steering wheel with his fist. It was impossible. But growing up with a deaf sister, he was an apt lip-reader, and certain of what he saw. Perhaps the venue lighting played tricks, but coincidentally his girlfriend was missing.

"What the fuck...what the fuck..." Fred whispered, like a mantra, raking both hands through his dark hair.

It was impossible. Brad and Amber were never introduced. There was only one time he'd stopped by Amber's work with Brad in the car, and Brad stayed in the car. And as for Amber cheating on him...

"It's not possible!" Fred shouted, slamming his head back against the seat headrest.

But then, it all clicked. Brad's furious contempt toward him stemming almost from that moment. Amber gone. Brad's last words to him that night. But Amber cheating? It wasn't in her character. Amber was a strong personality. If she didn't want to be with him, she'd leave. Fred smiled ruefully at the knowledge that noone could force Amber to do anything she didn't want to do. No, she wouldn't too be scared to dump him, if that was what she wanted.

Before he could stifle it, an image of Brad and Amber crashed through Fred's mind, sending a horrible, dull ache throughout his chest. In his tortured thoughts, Fred pictured them having sex. He saw Amber's bare legs around Brads waist, the same way she liked to make love with him.

Brad laying his hands on her, touching her pretty breasts, running his fingers through her sleek hair and tilting her perfect face up to his. Amber's hands excitedly roaming Brad's chest and shoulders. Her mouth opening against Brads with urgency, tongues merging as they kissed passionately. Brad thrusting into her...

Shaking with agitation, Fred grit his teeth and glared down at his clenched fists. A thousand agonising questions spun a wed of poison across his mind. How could she do that to him, disappear without having the guts to break it off? Let him go crazy with worry? Tell him she'd never been in love before him... how could she?? He wasn't even worth a goodbye note. It was nothing like the Amber he knew, the woman he adored beyond her physical beauty. Was the woman he loved a complete fabrication?

Fred would have respected Amber's decision to leave without question. It would have broken him, but he only ever wanted happiness for her. But in that moment, he wanted to kill both her, and Brad. Fred rubbed both hands over his face. He knew where Brad lived. He could give Amber a piece of his mind, tell Brad to never cross paths with him again, tell them they deserved each other, and walk away.

As Fred pulled the car to an abrupt halt outside Brad's house, he had second thoughts. What was he doing, going to a client's house? What if he was just crazy, and Amber had no involvement with Brad? Even if she was involved, what the hell was he doing sitting outside the house of his ex-girlfriends new lover? What about his career, was it worth it?

Deciding to retreat, Fred jumped in surprise and quickly ducked down as Brad's garage doors opened and he stalked out with a garbage bag. Peeping, Fred watched Brad dump the trash and retreat into the garage. As the doors rolled down, his heart leapt into his throat as he recognised Amber's yellow car beside Brad's, confirming his fears. Seeing her car refreshed his anger as a sharp, emotional pain tore through Fred that was so strong he felt he might choke on it. She should have been honest with him.

Deep down he knew Heidi wouldn't do more than suspend him for his stupidity. The chances were higher that under the circumstances, she would be grateful he didn't commit a murder. It wasn't just personal satisfaction, there was a principle. After all the stress, sleepless nights, and heartache - he was entitled to voice his mind.

"So much for fidelity," Fred growled, wrenching the car door open.