Captive [MXM]

I woke up hot and disoriented. My cheeks were warm and I felt pretty good after my nap. My body was sore as I slipped out of bed and yawned. I walked down the hall to Warren's office where I assumed he would be.

The vampire looked up when I entered and shut his laptop.

"You're awake," he observed and leaned back in his chair.

"Go figure," I arched a brow and went over to his desk.

"Grumpy too," Warren smirked as I sat on the edge and looked over at him.

"When are we going out?" I asked and cocked my head to the side.

"Right now."

About half an hour later I was showered and dressed and sitting in the passenger seat of one of Warren's expensive cars. I was wearing another gift from him. Everything on me from the belt to the slacks to the sweater was way above my salary.

He liked giving me gifts. He'd done it ever since we'd met. A bouquet here. A new phone there. In return he received his favors from me. Posing as a date at parties. Giving him kisses. Spending the night with him (not like that... sometimes like that).

It was just how things were.

His face was set in a stony mask of hard edges and cold eyes. He watched the road closely as my eyes traveled down his exposed arms where he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

"Where are we going?" I asked and stared out the window.

"To eat."

"I know that," I raised a brow at him, "but where is it?"

"A friend of mine owns the place."

"You have friends?" I was one to talk, but there was no way someone would willingly want to be friends with Warren.

"They're necessary sometimes."

"Oh. So your friend isn't a friend at all. They're a pawn," I replied flatly and folded my arms over my chest.

"Usually, that is the case. But in this circumstance he is actually my friend," Warren shrugged and took a left turn into the city.

"What's his name?" I inquired and fiddled with the door handle.

"Sage."

I screwed my face up.

"Do you want to get in his pants?" I asked honestly. He jerked a little bit and peered over at me.

"He's not my type. Besides, you're the only one who can get me off," he responded crudely.

"I just assumed you had a fetish for people with '-age' names," I shrugged.

"I have a Paige fetish," he dead panned and turned a look on me. I flushed red.

"You're such a pervert."

Warren's hand was on my lower back, pushing me inside. Usually, I had a set of rules I had to follow when we went somewhere but he had no say tonight. Well, he could still pay for everything because I was poor and he definitely was not.

I yawned softly and kept my head down as he spoke to the lady behind the podium. His palm was warm on my lower back as she directed us up to a second floor I didn't know existed.

"Paige, I need you to stay with me the whole time," he said and looked down at me as the elevator stopped, "there are dangerous people around."

I frowned but nodded and tucked myself against his side as we entered into a large, dimly lit room with tables and quiet piano music. There were people eating, I tried not to look at them.

We were seated away from the window. I noticed that everyone else was too.

"Why can't we sit at the window?" I asked and sipped out of my glass.

Warren leaned back in his chair.

"This place caters to a certain... kind of person," he waved his hand, "anyone here could be killed if they sit by the window."

I blinked at him.

"People want to kill you? I mean, I'm not surprised but... you know," I shrugged.

"You do know how I make my money, right?"

"I don't like to think about it too much," I answered honestly. It was mostly because everything in my house that cost more than a hundred dollars was from him. I didn't need that on my conscience.

"Of course you don't," he said in a sour tone. That was a sudden change.

I cocked my head to the side, "what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means the same thing you've been saying the whole time: you hate me. You hate thinking about me. You hate being with me," he scowled and an ugly feeling pulled tight in my chest.

I didn't like the accusatory tone in his voice.