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The shrill scream of an alarm clock wakes me up the next day, and I abruptly sit up, more startled than uneasy. A time check reveals that it's still five in the morning, and I can't think of any reason why my kidnapper-turned-lover would want me up so awfully early. I've never been a morning person...oh.
My fingers encounter something as I turn the alarm clock off, and my heart drops to my stomach when I flip the clock around. There's a sticky note taped to its back, and I'm almost tempted to just not read it.
But because I also know I'd just be delaying the inevitable—-
Phone in the drawer. Make your one call count.
It's not exactly what I feared, but it's just as bad, and my chest feels tight all at once, my hands cold and clammy. I now remember sleepily telling Raaf last night that I'm worried about Father, and though he didn't say anything at that time, I'm presuming this is his answer.
An old Nokia phone slides out when I pull the drawer open, and I have to drag oxygen into my lungs just to keep breathing. I tell myself that it will be all okay, but by the time Father's phone starts ringing on the other end, the speed in which my heart is racing would put bullet trains to shame.
I am nervous and petrified of how this call will turn out, but the moment Father answers the phone with a frantic-sounding 'Sara', a strange sense of calmness settles over me, and I think...I think it's my heart recognizing that if I say just one wrong thing—-
One wrong thing is all it takes.
It would completely destroy the first man I've loved.
And there is absolutely no way I am going to let that happen.
"Father, I'm sorry." My voice is the perfect blend of shame and reassurance: it's the voice of a daughter who knows she's messed up...but who also knows that she can soon make her father understand things are not as bad as they seem.
"My God, child! Where are you? Are you safe?"
"I'm safe," I assure him quickly.
"I would've called the police if I still didn't hear from you by today—-"
"I'm sorry, Father." My voice catches, and I angrily blink back tears that would only make my father worry even more if they end up falling. "I'm sorry for leaving—-"
"Where are you?"
I take a deep breath and then I hear myself say, "I'm in rehab."
A heartbeat of silence ensues, and then my father's voice cracks. "Sara. My God. Sara. You never seemed..."
"I h-hide it well."
"Why didn't you come to me?"
I can tell by his voice that he's already blaming himself, and this breaks my heart. "Because I didn't want you to suffer for my mistake. You did nothing wrong—-"
"I should have been there for you."
"You've been always there for me," I say fiercely. "This is just something I need to fix on my own, but I will be okay. And I'm already getting better so please...please Father, please don't blame yourself."
"Can I visit you?"
I find myself shaking my head even though I know he can't see me. "I'm sorry, not just yet. It's too early—-"
"I just want to see for myself that you're truly fine—-"
"I am, Father. I truly am. But I just...I just need to be alone for now, and it hasn't anything to do with you. It's just something I'm going through, and I just...I just want to be completely fine when we see each other again."
The silence from the other end is heavy, and my fingers tighten around the phone.
"Alright, Sara."
My body sags with relief. "Thank you, Father."
"But...I would truly like to know where you are at least."
I didn't expect him to press me like this about where I am, and I find myself fumbling for something to say.
Think, Sara, think.
I need to choose some place that's far away from New Jersey, but it also has to be somewhere that's particularly dry, like...
"I'm in...Arizona," I say finally. "That's all I can say for now."
Arizona is one of the states with the lowest percentage of water by area, and while I don't actually know where we are, I'm pretty sure supersized boats like the one I'm in right now can't physically sail into the cliffs and ridges of the Grand Canyon State.
"My God, Sara. Arizona?"
"It's a matter of symbolism," I say lamely. "Having the desert all around me drives an important point home. I can't and mustn't run away from my problems. I should, um, face them head on, which is what I'm doing now."
"I see."
He sounds so defeated, and my guilt grows. "Have you slept at all, Father?"
"A few minutes here and there. I don't even know what time it is."
"It's half-past five," I tell him after a glance at the alarm clock.
"Half...past...five?"
"It's too early, right? I'm sorry. I didn't notice—-"
"It's not that. I don't care what time you call. I only care about knowing that you're alright." There's a slight pause, and when he speaks again, his voice has become hoarser and noticeably strained. "Do you swear to me that you are truly alright?"
"I give you my word, Father. I—-"
—-have more things to say, but I no longer can because Raaf's old phone has run out of power.
I stare blankly at its screen, unable to believe that my conversation with Father has ended in such a terribly anti-climactic way. I don't even know what to think or how to feel, and while I want to believe that I've succeeded in reassuring Father...
What if I'm wrong, and something happens to him?
My heart is still troubled when I finally decide to go looking for Raaf, and I eventually find him with a little help from Cain. It's my first time up at the fly deck, and it's even more spectacular than I can ever imagine.
There's a long white leather couch facing a breakfast nook, and on top of the latter is an array of breakfast dishes and a laptop. On one end there's a fancy grilling station, and on the other end is a waist-high dipping pool that's built right next to the cockpit. And of course, standing behind its wheel is none other than Raaf.
He turns as soon as he hears my footsteps, and I feel ridiculously shy as our gazes meet.
"Good morning, my Sara." His voice is gentle and almost tender even; it's my Raaf in his dreamiest, and it has my senses fluttering so crazily that I can only croak out a greeting in return.
The way his bronze skin glistens under the faint rays of a partially hidden sun makes me think he's just had his morning swim, and allowing a few wet locks of his raven-black hair to fall over one eye makes him look adorably boyish. Or at least, as boyish as one can be, with the sculpted panes of his chest exposed over a pair of dark board shorts.
I have a hard time tearing my gaze away from his washboard abs, but the random thought that suddenly pops up in my mind eventually does the trick. I find myself hastily looking away as I swallow back a giggle, but it's all for naught when I hear Raaf ask rather curiously if I would mind sharing the joke.
"I just realized that you had more clothes on last night," I tell him sheepishly, "when we first made love."
He winces at my choice of words, but I just let it go. It's been mere days since he, well, kidnapped me. It's normal for guys - and especially guys like my Raaf - to avoid any talk about feelings at such an early stage.
"It's called sex, my dove."
"Also known as making love."
"Or fucking."
"How about being intimate with—-"
Raaf suddenly pulls me close and covers my mouth with a kiss, which I suspect is his way of shutting me up. But because I am kinda easy when it comes to him—-
I wrap my arms around his neck, and the kiss immediately enters dangerous territory as I feel his hand slide under the loose neckline of my dress. He thrusts his tongue inside my mouth just as his hand starts kneading my breast, and I can only moan and tighten my arms around his neck.
There's a part of me that's stunned I am letting this happen when we're completely exposed up here, but the part of me that only lives for his touch still prevails in the end, and I can feel my toes curling hard when he suddenly pushes me down until I'm bent over the captain's seat.
My breath catches as he positions himself behind me, and I feel like I'm about to expire in anticipation when I feel him palming the cheeks of my bottom over the thin cotton of my dress. Seconds go by, and he still does nothing, but this only makes me wetter. So, so much wetter than when he finally does it—-
SLAP!
I cry out as my entire body jerks, the sudden slap on my bottom making my inner folds throb almost painfully. I want him so much, oh God, and—-
SLAP!
He spanks my bottom even harder this time, but somehow, this only makes me want him even more, and from here it becomes a cycle. He spanks me, I cry out, and that place in my legs gets wetter. Just wetter and wetter and wetter that when he finally pushes my underwear to the side and thrusts inside of me without warning, I am more than ready for him, and oh God, it feels so, so—-
Aaaaaah!
My brain shuts down as my Raaf reaches around my body to start stroking my clit while pumping his member into me with quick, hard thrusts. I want it to last forever, but I can already feel the burning and throbbing pleasure coiling inside of me, and when I hear Raaf's own breathing turn harsh, it's just too much—-
"Sara, fuck, fuck, come with me, now, Sara!"
His words push me over the edge, and I sob as I come with him, and I sob even more when I feel his member pulse powerfully within my inner walls as he fills me with his seed. Just filling and filling and filling until there' s not a millimeter of space that hasn't been claimed, and I can only whimper as I feel the excess trickling stickily down my thighs.
I close my eyes as I feel the pleasure ripples finally start to fade, and I'm just a bit mortified but unsurprised when my legs crumble the moment he pulls me up.
Raaf chuckles behind me, and it's something I don't just hear. I feel it, too, my God, with his member still fully sheathed inside of me, and oh God!
I can only whimper in embarrassment as he lifts me up, my back against his chest, my legs dangling over his arms, and my womanhood completely exposed to the world since he still refuses to withdraw.
"Raaf, please!"
But of course he ignores this, and I can only gasp as he takes a seat at the breakfast nook, which then leaves me impaled on his member.
"I'll let you go," he whispers to my ear, "as soon as you finish eating breakfast."
I'm already reaching for the salad fork even before he finishes speaking, and it's just the strangest and dirtiest thing I've ever done I think, to finish up a small plate of salad, and at Raaf's calm insistence, a pair of honey-glazed buttery pancakes topped with blueberries and cream cheese. I'm all done in just seven minutes (a record for sure), and I shudder in relief when Raaf finally pulls out of me.
"And now..."
My head jerks up in horror. There's more?
But this only makes Raaf's lips twitch. "There is no need to look at me like that," he says soothingly. "I simply intend to clean you up—-" He sees me open my mouth to protest, but he forestalls this with a shake of his head. "Be a good girl and just let me do this. You do not have enough time as it is."
I only look at him, genuinely confused. "Enough time for what?"
But Raaf is already kneeling down, and when I take a peek under the table I see him reaching for a medicine kit stored in one of the built-in drawers under our seat.
He takes a pack of cleaning wipes out and asks me to part my legs wide open.
"But—-"
"I am going to have to punish you if you insist on refusing," Raaf says quite gently as he looks up to meet my gaze. "It is entirely up to you."
It is indeed, and so I reluctantly part my legs open and immediately start squirming as Raaf starts wiping me clean.
I am so ready to leave when Raaf tells me he's done, but the moment I start to rise, his fingers circle my wrist, and he tugs me back down. "Not so fast, my dove."
Raaf is the one who gets to his feet instead, and I can only watch in confusion as he clears the dishes away until all that's left is the MacBook Air that he later asks me to open.
"What is this about?" I ask warily.
"I told you last night," he reminds me. "Today will be a long day as you'll start taking classes again."
"What kind of classes?" I am even more suspicious now, and a touch antsy as well. This whole classes thing smacks of BDSM, and I'm not sure if I'm ready of that.
Instead of answering, Raaf turns the laptop towards him to set up a Zoom call, and I start fidgeting again. Dear God. What do I do if it turns out that Raaf has signed me up for some kinky online course—-
Oh. My. God.
Ivy Creek High's principal suddenly shows up on the laptop screen, and my jaw drops as he tells me with significant pride that approval for my transfer request to the home study program has been expedited. "Please do not hesitate to call me if there is anything you need or you have any questions. My door is always open to our school's most precious students."
I'm not sure if his open-door policy has always been a thing, but...since when did I become a precious student?
"In the meantime, let me invite you to your first class..."
What? Now? Truly?
"There you go, Ms. Perez." Mr. Tezel beams at me. "All you need to do is click on the invitation..."
And this, Raaf takes the initiative to do with a double tap on the trackpad.
Shit, oh God, shit, shit, shit!
Everything after that happens a little too fast for me, with a still-topless Raaf bending down to drop a quick, hard kiss on my mouth. "Have fun in school, my dove." He straightens and walks away, and it's only then I realize that he's done all that...with forty-plus other students of Ivy Creek High gawking at us the entire time.