Call Her Mine by Lydia Michaels Read Free Book Online

hat. Her steps grew quicker
and a bit lighter. She bounced off the balls of her feet as if it could take
away some of the pressure building in her belly.
    Her legs carried her
back and forth, back and forth, until she could walk no more. Then she stood in
place and bounced, holding her thighs tightly together. A whimper whined past
her lips. She couldn’t take anymore.
    Delilah slammed her
hands on the door over and over again, hoping he hadn’t left her in the house
alone. “I have to pee!” Bang, bang, bang… “Let me out! I have to go to
the bathroom.”
    She hit the door harder,
rattling it in its hinges. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—
    The door whipped open
and she jumped back. He stood, holding the handle, expression blank and
somewhat unimpressed. His mouth twitched.
    “You are wearing my
hat.”
    Uh, now it’s mine. “I need to pee.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Did
you break my door?”
    “Faulty craftsmanship.
Totally not my fault. The knob just fell off. Maybe contact a contractor about
that. Look, is there a bathroom I can use?”
    “I built this house. The
craftsmanship is fine.”
    That definitely caught
her attention. The house was simple, but beautiful in its own way. She guessed
Amish folk built their own houses on occasion. This guy must be old school
Amish, because she’d watched a documentary once and they showed Amish families
moving into prefabricated homes.
    Pressure in her bladder
cut off her thoughts. She looked at him pointedly and he sighed.
    “Follow me.”
    She followed him down
the steps and down a long hall. Inside a small room was a sort of water closet.
There was a basin and a pump and a sizable wooden box. He turned on a glass
lantern hanging from the wall and stepped back. She glanced at him
questioningly.
    He angled his chin toward
the box. She looked at it and back at him. She scoffed. “You want me to go in a
box?”
    “It is not a box. It is
a toilet.”
    “It’s a latrine.”
    He stepped in and she
immediately backed up in the small space. With a huff he lifted the square
wooden lid exposing a round porcelain seat. It looked like a toilet in a box.
    “It is a toilet,” he
repeated, pulling a string she hadn’t noticed hanging from the wall. The toilet
flushed.
    Well, how about that? “Okay. Thanks. Get out.”
    He shut the lid and
frowned. “You have terrible manners.”
    “You kidnapped me. Do
you expect me to be nice? Sorry, you should’ve nabbed someone stupid if a happy
victim was what you were after.”
    He sighed and left the
room, shutting her in to take care of business. After she finished she washed
her hands under the pump sink. It was cold, but neat. She didn’t understand why
he’d have a flushable toilet and not running water in the sink. Shaking off her
hands, she faced the door, feeling much better. She turned the knob.
    He stood waiting for
her, a strange expression on his face. He looked…curious, and remorseful on
some level. Good. He should regret taking her. She had a life to get back to.
Speaking of which…
    She folded her hands and
lowered her gaze, hiding her eyes under the brim of his hat. Demurely she
asked, “What now?”
    He said nothing and
didn’t move for at least a minute. She waited him out. Slowly, he stepped
closer. Grit and dust on the bottom of his boots scraped along the wood planked
floor.
    He tipped up her chin so
she was looking at him. The sexual lure of him hadn’t disappeared. She wanted
him the first time she saw him and it would have been a lot easier if he’d
turned ugly over the last twenty-four hours, but he hadn’t. He was still crazy
hot. Crazy being the key word. Her belly flipped with excitement and she
hated herself for being such a girl. She forced her expression to remain blank.
    The backs of his fingers
slowly coasted over the curve of her cheek and around her ear. “You are very
pretty, Delilah,” he rasped.
    Her heart hammered in
her chest. You hate him. You hate him. You hate him. She