Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
So why did I feel this unexpected reluctance? This protective instinct that seemed to grow stronger each time I looked at her?
“Damn it,” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. “God damn it, Little Lulu. Do you have to be so smart, let alone so adorable?”
Louisa
When Rudy unlocked the door and entered, I did my best to seem resigned to my life as Jax’s little girl—the way my version of Georgia Jones would be, with the dominant older husband who knew how to use a young bride properly.
“Time for your workout, little one,” he said, his deep voice making my stomach flutter despite myself. “Let’s get you changed.”
I set the book aside, assuming a posture of demure compliance as he approached with workout clothes—the same skimpy sports bra as yesterday and nothing else. My heart began to race, but not from fear. This was it. My chance.
“Yes, Daddy Rudy,” I murmured, standing and letting him remove my dress.
His huge hands worked efficiently to unfasten my diaper, his fingers lingering a moment too long between my thighs. I forced myself not to recoil, remembering that I needed to play along, to lull him into complacency.
“Should I use the toilet first, Daddy?” I asked softly, looking up at him through my lashes.
“Good girl for asking,” he praised, guiding me to the bathroom. “Yes, you should.”
As he watched me pee, I kept my eyes downcast, pretending shyness while my mind raced through the plan one final time. Get to the gym. Wait for a moment when Rudy is distracted. Run for the fire exit. Find help.
Simple. Straightforward. My only chance.
Once dressed in just the sports bra and running shoes, I followed Rudy through the apartment toward the private elevator that would take us to the gym. The cool air raised goosebumps on my bare legs and bottom, but I ignored the discomfort, focusing instead on what lay ahead.
“You’re quiet today,” Rudy observed as the elevator descended. “Thinking about tonight?”
I blushed genuinely, the reminder of what awaited me if I failed to escape sending a jolt of both fear and—God help me—unwanted arousal through my body.
“Yes, Daddy Rudy,” I whispered. “I’m… nervous.”
His large hand came to rest possessively on my bare bottom. “Don’t worry, little girl. Daddy Rudy will be gentle. At first.”
The elevator doors opened, and I followed him into the hallway, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he must hear it. The gym doors loomed ahead, and beyond them, freedom.
Rudy pushed them open, revealing the now-familiar space with its state-of-the-art equipment and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. And there, just as I remembered, the glowing red exit sign above a metal door.
“Let’s start with some stretching,” Rudy said, moving toward a closet. “I’ll get the yoga mat.”
This was it. My moment.
As Rudy turned his back to open the closet door, I bolted. My running shoes made almost no sound on the padded floor as I sprinted toward the fire exit. I hit the push bar with both hands, throwing my weight against it.
For one heart-stopping moment, I feared it would be locked, that my one chance at freedom would be thwarted before it began. But the door gave way with a click and the bang of the push bar, swinging open to reveal a concrete stairwell beyond.
I slipped through, pulling the door closed behind me. The stairwell was dimly lit, emergency lights casting eerie shadows on the gray walls. I paused, listening for sounds from below, but heard nothing except my own ragged breathing.
Freedom. I was actually doing this.
I flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Three flights down, I paused on a landing, my mind racing. Rudy had already reached the door, I felt certain. I needed to put as much distance between us as possible.
I heard the echo of the door from the gym opening.
“Louisa, honey,” Rudy’s voice echoed from somewhere above me, unnervingly calm. “You’re already in a lot of trouble. Don’t make this worse.”
My heart leapt into my throat. He’d moved faster than I’d hoped. I continued my descent, stepping as quietly as possible now, my palms sweaty against the metal railing.
Two floors down from Jax’s penthouse, maybe the building’s fifteenth or sixteenth floor, I eased open the door, peeking into a hallway that looked like it belonged in a luxury apartment building. Plush carpet, elegant wall sconces, numbered doors—this wasn’t a commercial area. These were residences. 1653, 1651, 1649… yes, the sixteenth floor.
I slipped through, closing the door silently behind me, and began walking down the hallway as calmly as I could manage. I was painfully aware of my state of undress—wearing only a sports bra and running shoes, my naked bottom and bare pussy exposed for anyone to see. But that might work to my advantage. Surely someone would help a half-naked, clearly distressed young woman?