Behind the door, she found a moth free walk-in with a multitude of hangers above a rack on the floor loaded with giant shoes.
There were a few dress slacks, several long-sleeved shirts, and a plethora of t-shirts and jeans. They were all of the Big and Tall variety, and there was only one person she had ever met who was that size.
“Please don’t be what I think you are,” she muttered.
Her heart did a backflip and a sideways rollercoaster drop into the pit of her stomach as she slid the nearest black t-shirt sideways off its plastic hanger. She held it out in front of her, still sideways, and slowly turned the fabric so that the front, with its gold gym logo, was facing her. There was no mistaking the last name, etched in big letters on the front.
“God damn it,” she said, her terror giving way to righteous indignation.
At least, now, she could rest one hundred percent easy on the no unconscious sex with her abductor part. She was certain the meat-monster he kept locked up in the pairs of pants now surrounding her would put her battery-operated boyfriend to shame—and she felt nothing, not even a twinge down there.
Okay, technically, she did feel something, only it was more like a heartbeat centered in her clit—thump-thump, thump-thump—along with an obscene amount of moisture between her thighs at the thought of the man’s undoubtedly generous cock.