Page 10 of Stranded
“First of all, I haven’t been ignoring his calls because I’ve had no cell service where I’m staying. Second of all, I can and I will ignore him. Preston cheated on me with two girls at the same time. I’m never speaking to him again, and we're certainly not getting back together. So you might as well save your time and energy,” I say, almost shocking myself with how sternly I’m talking to her. Perhaps it’s because we’re separated by more than four thousand miles.
“Is that right?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes, he’s a bastard, and I’d rather carve out my own heart than ever be in a relationship with him.”
She releases a small sigh. “I’m proud of you, Ivy. You’ve grown up to be such a strong woman, and I support your choice.”
My mouth falls open. I’m speechless, and my eyes fill with tears at hearing Mom tell me she’s proud of me. There aren’t many women who are as cold as her. “Thanks,” I manage, trying to keep it together.
“When do you expect you’ll return home?” she asks.
I swallow hard. “Well, the cabin I booked is snowed in. The host believes we’re stuck here until the new year.”
“So you won’t be at my annual New Year gala in the city?” she asks, sounding irritated.
“I’ll try to be if the snow clears.”
She clears her throat. “Fine, I’ll miss you this Christmas. It won’t be the same without you, but hopefully I’ll be able to get through to you on the phone.”
I swallow hard as it’s unlikely. “Yes, I’ll miss you too. Have a good christmas if I don’t have any service.”
She doesn’t say another word, ending the call.
I drop my cell phone, my emotions a torrent whirling around inside me.That conversation went better than expected. My heart is still pounding as I curl deeper into the armchair, the soft fabric cocooning me. The silence in the cabin is deafening, each tick of the clock echoing in my ears.
I move forward, grabbing my sketchbook and opening my most recent design.
It’s a ballgown but I haven’t put any color to it yet. I can’t decide what color it should be, but suddenly I’m hit with inspiration. Pale, cold blue like the Alaskan frost. And like Maddox’s eyes. The exact same shade.
I imagine him beside me in a tailored suit and me in my ballgown, this dress in a fabric the same color of his eyes as we attend my first-ever fashion show. I grab one of my colored pencils and add the color, allowing the inspiration to guide me.
It feels like I lose myself in the design as the small amount of Alaskan daylight ebbs and darkness cloaks the forest outside. Once I’m happy with my design, I place the sketchbook on the coffee table and stand, stretching my arms over my head.
I’m sure I can feel Maddox’s gaze on me. A constant sense that I’m being watched.
I glance toward the window, half-expecting and half-hoping to see his silhouette. It’s not there. The absence of his lurking figure makes the cabin feel colder and emptier. I aimlessly rise from my seat and pace around the cabin, my heart thudding.
All I can think about is Maddox and his brooding personality. It’s maddening, the way he consumes my thoughts and the way he makes me feel. We’re caught in a strange dance. A silent game of watching and waiting. But I’m tired of waiting.
Tonight, the show will be different. I’m going to lure Maddox inside. I’ve been patient and played my part in his game, but it’s time to flip the script. I’m not Ivy, the heartbroken woman running from her past. I’m Ivy, the woman who’s not afraid to stand up for herself and confront the shadows lurking in the dark.
Tonight, Maddox won’t only be watching. Tonight, everything is going to change.
MADDOX
The gnawing obsession in my gut twists as I watch her alone in the confinement of the cabin. The stillness of the night is only interrupted by the soft hum of the security camera feeds, giving me my private showing of her every move. The hunger I’ve been keeping at bay threatens to consume me as I witness her restlessness.
She had a couple of phone calls. One of them was from her mom, and I was fucking proud of the way my girl stood up to her. Turns out her mom was also proud as she had her on loudspeaker. I saw what it meant to her when she heard her mom tell her that.
When I heard her say she caught her boyfriend with not one girl but two, I wanted to rip his head off. I still might. But right now, she’s here with me, and he’s thousands of miles away. Lucky for him. If he turned up here, I would murder him without a second thought. How dare he make her feel like she’s not worthy? He’s not fucking worthy of her.
It’s no longer enough to watch her and indulge in stolen moments of voyeuristic pleasure. I crave more than her image on a screen or behind the window. I want her submission, her fear, her cries of ecstasy.
I love hearing when she cries out my name during orgasm and again in her sleep, lost in dreams of pleasure I can make a reality tonight. It drives me wild, the thought of burying myself deep inside her, claiming her in the most primal way. Tonight, I’ve decided to break the chains of self-imposed restraint and move out of the shadows.
I wonder how much she’s thought about my cock since we met four days ago. It feels like a lifetime ago. I feel a rush of adrenaline. The old hunter in me is awakening as I shut off the computer screen and head into the garage of my cabin.
I glance at the different masks I have hung on my wall. It’s a collection, that’s for sure. Which one will my little angel enjoy the most?