by Kiki Howell
She maintained eye contact, not backing down, and not making the first move. She'd stand here mostly naked all day if need be. Her nipples had tightened to the point of pain, and the throbbing between her legs took on a life of its own, changing each and every function of her body.
He inched his head down, his breath heating her lips, which remained slightly open, the urge to be kissed skittering along the warming skin.
"I..." he managed before his mouth took hers.
He pressed his lips against hers with a force that stole her breath and stopped her heart. Though die as she may, she never wanted this moment to end.
His hands came up to hover over her breasts, thumbs flicking over her hard nubs, eliciting a moan from her, and her traitorous lower body pushed against his. His erection tenting his shorts pressed against her stomach, while her swollen lips between her thighs ached for attention.
His hands moved to her back, making for an awkward twist of the arm still shackled to his, but in this moment she didn't mind adjusting. He pulled her in, crushing her generous breasts against his naked chest, his muscles moving with his rapid breath unyielding to her flesh, molding her to him.
With his one free hand, he scooped her up, putting the wet spot of her panties against his still cotton covered erection. As he turned them, fell to the bed on top of her, her breath whooshed from her chest, and he abruptly pushed up and off of her.
"Sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"No. No, you didn't."
"We can't do this. Not now. Not this way." He shook his head and backed away as much as the manacles would allow.
"Why not now?" she hissed through gritted teeth as her body rebelled against her, edged her on to do whatever it took to have him inside of her, his lips roaming over every inch of her flesh.
"I want it to be different. I want to have the time to savor you, for one. I want the luxury of time to ravage every inch of your gorgeous body, to see it, to memorize it. I want you willing, not cuffed, not held, not adjusting. I want you to willingly stand in a room with me, undress of your own free will. Then, I will take you. Soon. If you are agreeable, it will be soon. Maybe as other people, but still soon. Please. Please don't punish me the rest of the day for wanting more for us than this horrible hotel. I want you with every fiber of my being right now but I want more than just this for us. Can that be enough?"
She nodded. Her brain getting it, even agreeing, as her body rebelled, yelled no, not to wait.
"You are right. If it is to finally be, it should be more. Tonight maybe? You win points for being a hopeless romantic."
"Really? Me? Anyway, as far as tonight, I hope so. I really, really, hope so. Thank you, Samantha for understanding. For cooperating. I'm still not uncuffing you other than to get you dressed." He released a heavy sigh. "For fuck's sake, let's get dressed. Then we can get new identities, maybe some food, maybe in a reverse order, and then drive away to a place where we can be alone, all night, all day, all week maybe. Regardless, thank you for letting me do this right even in this horrible situation."
"You're welcome," she managed, his honesty, his earnest sentiments begging her to be agreeable, yet with the slithering ease of a serpent, a pang of fear crept in at walking out into that world which now held people who wanted her dead. She didn't know what to do with that new reality.
You're alive, she reminded herself, because of this man, this savior, in more ways than one. You spent the last few weeks denying how you truly felt about him. Enough already. Man up. Go along with his plan. Stop being such a bitch. Be afraid of dying, but don't be afraid of love any longer. If nothing else, yesterday should have taught you that.
When he hadn't moved, she nodded again, acknowledging her consent to his plan, picked up her clothes and moved toward the bathroom. He did as she asked, un-cuffing her in the bathroom, then shutting the door for privacy as he changed just on the other side of it.
She emerged minutes later, her hair tossed up in a messy bun that ended up under a ball cap, ready to get on with their day, if only to get to the end part he'd promised her. It suddenly didn't matter who was out to kill her, or where they ended up, as long as they ended there together and naked.
Chapter Eight
Having only stopped for egg sandwiches and coffee at a fast food drive thru, they arrived within an hour at their destination. He led her around the back of a building, to a set of stairs on the end. After climbing the metal structure, the door at the top opened within a minute to the odd cadence of his knock. All the secret spy shit amused her for a moment, that was until a woman with rainbow colored hair, and wilder colored clothes opened the door and ushered them in.
Sam stopped in her tracks to take in the studio apartment with exposed brick walls, rustic wooden flooring, and modern appliances made to look old, reminiscent of the fifties style, all white and cute looking. The scene amused her with the flair of some streaks of red, as prominent as the woman who stood beside them.
After introducing herself, but acting like old friends, Amelia got right to work. Sam, ushered into a hairdresser's chair in a back room, eased into amiable chatter with this stranger in an instant. Though, Sam did sit tentatively, eyes wide, hoping a gypsy wasn't what she was going to be made into. Not that the woman wasn't striking, downright beautiful in fact, but it just wasn't her style. Not that she had one outside of yoga clothes, so she tried to keep an open mind as the woman bustled around, and Jacob, standing guard at the door to the room, appeared just as pensive despite the smirk on his face.
Fatigue settled over her like a wet blanket, killing her caffeine-induced spirit, even though Jacob had un-cuffed her at Amelia's insistence. Soon enough, the woman even shooed him into another room to wait.
"No worries, Sam, I won't make you look like me. To hide out, you need to become a plain Jane, be a woman a man could pass and not notice."
"Not really an issue there," Sam muttered. "Do whatever."
"Oh don't sell yourself short. And, don't piss off Jacob."
"You say it like one has something to do with the other."
"It does, lady. He looks at you like a man in love, not a man paid to protect. And trust me, I've seen enough of the latter to know. Now, before you protest again, lets talk about your new look. How about prim and proper? We will make your golden brown curls just a mousy brown, cut in some layers, shorten, and go straight. Again, basic, but not unflattering to your face. Then we will give you some colored contacts to make your eyes brown. Isn't too far off for your complexion, but then we will give you a spray tan. Your porcelain skin with a healthy glow being such a striking figure, we just want to give you a little color so the bad guys looking for blond curls and light skin overlook you. We will top it all off with a basic pair of slacks and sweater. This you can travel in. You can wear clothes you are more comfortable in and pull up your hair once you are at your hideaway destination. A cabin, Jacob let slip. Just tell me what you want, and I will order it in for you. Got a personal shopper on the payroll."
"Cabin?"
"That's what I heard, though I don't know where it is, or how long of a drive you have ahead of you. The words slipped from his mouth. I was just instructed to give you layers as you'll drive into a colder climate. So, let's get started, and we can discuss how to make Mr. Muscle bound with the dark, silky hair over there look plain, too."
"Dumpier clothes, same brown hair color as mine, but buzz cut, and, he'll still be hot."
"Yeah, we can't change that. We can only take away the obvious, and give him an ugly hat or something. Let's dress him up like a chauffer."
"But, we are driving an old beat up truck."
"Not if I call Ian."
They both laughed then, their eyes meeting in the mirror.
"Seriously, though, I know the truck is being ditched as we speak for some non-descript sedan. So, how long have you guys been denying you are in love with each other?"
"We still are to some extent, though we are past the denying it altogether. I'm not su
re about love, though. Feelings definitely."
It felt good to talk to Amelia like an old friend. She needed one right now, so she took advantage of the girl talk.
"I've only known him a few weeks," Sam continued, feeling the need to confess, or at least be honest. "He's indicated that he wants me. I, however, have not said much really, as I barely own up to it to myself. Though, I have humiliated myself throwing myself at him last night. Well, and this morning." Sam felt heat creep into her cheeks at the admission.
"I've known him a long time, Sam, and I have never, ever, seen him look at a woman like he looks at you. You are one lucky woman, because he is the dearest man, a loyal friend who would give his own life for anyone in his pride."
"Isn't that a pride thing?"
"To some extent, but not necessarily. Jacob is different, though. He genuinely cares with his whole heart, though he protects it from woman. Always has."
"Why, someone dump him?"
"Yes, his mother. And, his father made sure he detested women long ago. The man was a pig, as in there is no wonder the woman left him. Don't know why she didn't take Jacob with her, maybe fear of retaliation of the pride. But regardless, his father only demeans women. And yet, he raised a son who would protect any of them, just not lose his heart to one, until now. Until, as I see it, he met his mate, the one his heart couldn't refuse. "
"Really? To me? He's lost it to me?"
"Of that, I have no doubt. Trust me,"
Sam did. Something about this woman she couldn't explain put her right at ease. So much so that she sat back and enjoyed the makeover, letting go of the worries for now.
Chapter Nine
After Amelia's makeovers and waiting for their new identification cards to be complete, they drove for several hours in what seemed to her as gracious silence, acting like the strangers they now looked to one another. Of course, she could still see him in there. There was only so much a new hair cut and color, a spray tan, and different clothes could do. Catching glimpses of him as they drove, she realized how little all of that mattered when your heart had gotten involved. And, damn it to hell, hers had. Add her to Sylvia Ludus' list of matches. Against all odds, she'd not been a match for the woman's matchmaking skills. Maybe Sylvia was a witch as well as a shifter, she mused.
Thinking of Sylvia made her think of her mother, out there faking mourning the loss of her daughter all the while wondering when, if ever, they would see each other again. While she would miss her family and friends, and her studio, her life, the idea of running off with this man, of maybe letting go, seeing where that took them, not just for something different, but for a total change, might not be the worst thing in the world, as she'd thought a few days ago. Everything else in her life had changed with that one attack, so why not this, too? Why hold back?
Sylvia had said she needed something different, and that a friend of Ian's would be her savior. Jacob had been that for her in more ways than one so far.
She had known people who had life take everything away from them, left them with nothing. Sitting here now, running her hands through her odd-feeling hair cut, looking down at the silk pants and cashmere sweater so strange to her skin, she looked over at Jacob, and realized her luck. She'd lost it all, and in one fell swoop had been given something else, something with the potential to be good. To be amazing. A second chance at something so different could be just what she needed. So why not embrace it? For the first time in her life, just maybe, she could manage her way past the fears.
At this point, the whole of it played like a fairy tale of sorts anyway. A whole new life awaited her, for an indefinite amount of time, so why not play along, let go, see what came of it all. If it all disappeared later, she could make it out to be a great experiment in living an alternate reality because calling these changes in her reality something different didn't begin to define it.
Like the gentleman he was, once they'd arrived at their destination, Sam looking out the window with her mouth open, Jacob came around the car and opened her door. He gave her his arm to help her out of the car and then into the cabin. Leaving her to stand in wonder for a moment just inside the front door, he had gone back out for the trunk full of supplies, telling her to look around as he did so. They did have a trunk full of supplies, too, from clothes and toiletries, to food and a few other things like books and movies to keep them occupied. Ian had spared no expense where his best friend and fake girlfriend were concerned.
As for the cabin, to call the place amazing didn't cut it. Like something out of the movies, or maybe even one of her fantasies, she stood in a romantic wooden getaway out in the middle of nowhere. They'd even have land to explore. Fresh air would be an abundant option, not just a musty old hotel room. A fireplace welcomed her, with wood stacked up alongside of it. A deep, plush couch sat in the room, hunter green to match all of the dark wood. Thick country curtains covered the windows, keeping her and Jacob from view, of bears she guessed. She walked over, past the huge, rustic kitchen with copper appliances and warm wood cabinets as far as the eye could see, to open the first of many closed doors. A bedroom with a handmade quilt on the bed greeted her, burgundy and cream with floral patterns and lace stitched into intricate designs, it had to be one of the most beautiful she had ever seen.
She'd been so lost in her thoughts and perusal of the cabin in its rustic finery, she jumped when she heard Jacob come up behind her.
"I'm so sorry I scared you. I hope you know that you are safe, Samantha. And, thanks again for not running once Amelia insisted I keep the cuffs off of you."
"I'm not stupid. I know the smart thing for a girl in danger is to stay with her savior."
"I'm sorry I can't tell you how long we are going to be here. I will try to make your stay here as pleasant as possible. Whatever you want, I will try to give it to you if I can," he said, his face serious, his eyes swimming with emotion as he stood before her, head bowed, clenching his fist as if to hold back from grabbing her.
"I want you," she got out in a strangled whisper, though she'd pushed back her shoulders and stood up tall.
In the moments that followed, her world as she'd known it crumbled in her mind, fell away until nothing but a shaking shell of a woman remained, one hopeful of the future. Lifting her hand to his cheek, she let it flutter there like a leaf in a storm. Her words, the vulnerability she'd exposed herself to, blurred the situation before her eyes. Thoughts whirled through her head, a tornado that deafened, caused tiny pinpricks of pain that overrode the throb of her heartbeat in her ears. She blinked, slightly alleviating the sting of tears that threatened.
The ache of her body for him showed in the tenseness of each limb; under his hand that came to rest on her thigh and beneath the other hand he moved to a death grip on her pants. Both gathered her attention, granting her a break from the rush that played havoc with her breathing, her ability to steady herself. A diversion for a brief few seconds from trying to infer just what kind of trouble she might be in. Breathing heavily, now, she gave into what she saw as the frailty of her womanhood, the lust born of love for a man.
When a woman spent her life on the rough side of love, fear soothed as her friend, the companion that kept one smart and alive. She’d known what to do with men who could harm her. It hadn’t been personal then to be emotionless, run by hormones only. This time, this man, he stood there pretty damn personal, and she allowed the fear to freeze her one second more. Then, enough was enough. She'd move in. She'd let go. She'd have him, let him have her.
Jacob pulled her into a crushing embrace, his face nestled in the crook of her neck as he sniffed her hair like he'd done when they were hidden in the wall and last night in bed. She heard the growl rise up in his chest, and her heart skipped a beat as all of her womanly parts pulsed.
He brought his hands to cup her face, moving her back enough to look her in the eyes, asking without words for the permission he sought. She gave him one soft and subtle blink before his lips descended toward hers.
Heat blossomed quickly, catching her breath, stealing her thoughts as he kissed her senseless, made her easy prey when he crushed her against him. Her breasts became full and heavy. Her nipples grew hard as they pressed against his chest. The mere feel of his mounting erection against her stomach had her tugging at his clothes, attempting to strip him while he led them to the bed, their footsteps synchronized in some lover’s waltz.
With an abrupt turn, he pushed her backward toward the wall, her head hitting the hard surface as her back slid along the wood. She could have cared less. In fact, she welcomed more of it, more roughness, more anything that got them closer together and naked.
They continued on, stripping off each other’s new clothing, ending up with just her lacy underwear on by the time he swung her with him as he twisted around, the back of her thighs hitting against the mattress. Amelia had insisted on the black, see through things to make her feel sexy under the guise of plain Jane uppity-pants. It had worked.
Wetness pooled between her thighs, gaining her full focus on being touched there, by him, save for the need to touch him as well. When he began to kiss her with more force, the swell of her lips increased. His mouth tasted so sweet as her hands made their way to grasp his bulging arms. She let her fingers trail over the veins there, tracing over them, brushing against the dips and mounds of his biceps.
“I want you, and only you, Samantha,” he growled as he ripped away her panties, the thin lace barely resisting his strength. The pull of them over her flesh created a glorious burn that made her stomach clench.