He didn't have a choice really, the mobster had him over a barrel. He could either give up his wife or... he didn't want to think about the or.' It was Candy who made the decision for him. "Please don't hurt my husband. We'll do anything you want. I'll go with you." Doug could only watch helplessly as his beautiful wife walked away with the Russian gangster.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
I didn't know what to expect when I was led out of the bar by Vlad. Doug looked so alone. I was an emotional mess leaving the husband I loved so dearly but knowing there was no way to avoid being taken by Vlad.
I was still shocked by the threat to my husband. It had sounded unreal, like a line from a gangster movie. But Vlad didn't make empty threats, I knew he meant what he said.
I sat next to Vlad in the backseat of a huge black SUV, Michael drove. Vlad was such a strong, dangerous man. I tried to deny the warm rush running through my body.
Neither man said a word to me until we were several blocks away.
"It's nice to see you again, Candy," Vlad said, in a flat voice. His voice made my skin prickle, and goosebumps of excitement covered my arms and legs. My sex felt achy.
Of course, Vlad noticed. "You're excited, aren't you, Candy?" he looked over at me. "There's no sense lying about it. You're mine now."
I shivered, knowing I now belonged to Vlad. "Where are we going?"
Michael laughed and Vlad said, "You're going to your new home so you can meet the boys. You like meeting new people, don't you?"
Vlad's voice was flat and cold toward me. I was terrified, and aroused. I had no say in where I was taken or what Vlad's boys did to me. A combination of fear, anxiety and arousal pounded through my body. Vlad was incredibly appealing. He was handsome as well as rich and powerful; and he had a huge down there. The problem was: he didn't care what happened to me, or if he ruined my marriage.
I squeezed my knees together and felt the buzz it caused. For some reason Vlad excited me more than my husband ever had.
We pulled into a large driveway entrance under an industrial building. Michael maneuvered the SUV among several large garbage trucks and backed into a spot marked private,' next to a heavy looking steel door.
Michael pointed me toward the steel door which was rapidly closing behind Vlad's back. Once through, I was met by a short, strong looking older man with only a fringe of black hair surrounding a shiny bald dome. He was wearing a dirty, torn tee shirt, and a pistol. He seemed to know only a few words of English, making him hard to understand through his thick Russian accent.
"Take off," was all he said, pointing at my clothing.
"Where?" I asked. We were in a room with plain egg yolk colored walls and a concrete floor covered in a patchwork of thin rugs. There was a small bar at one end of the room along with five sets of tables and chairs.
Men were standing at the bar and sitting at some of the tables. Two were playing pool in one corner. All had stopped what they'd been doing to watch.
"Here. Take. Off," he repeated.
"You want me to strip here?"
"Here. Glupyy," he yelled. Later I was told he'd called me stupid. It could have been worse.
One of the guys mimicked him.