That is, she would have, had a flannel-covered arm not shot in at the last possible second to save her from cracking her tailbone.
“Like I said before, looks like I gotta watch out for you.”
Elise looked up into Manhandler’s eyes before she could think better of it, and the instant she locked onto those denim blues, his warning was completely forgotten too.
“You’re just a bundle of trouble, aren’t you,” he said, a hint of a playful smirk curling the corners of his lips as he stretched out an arm to turn off the water. That touch of humor, though, reached all the way to his eyes, confirming to Elise that he wasn’t all bad. Not at all. “Up you go.”
As Elise was lifted back onto her feet and Manhandler held on long enough to ensure she was steady, she became painfully aware of her nakedness, and that his hands—and eyes—were touching places a man hadn’t touched in far, far too long.
So long, she’d stopped bothering to go to the gym. Had completely thrown out the will to do even a basic sit-up or squat, and she couldn’t even remember what a salad tasted like, so she was…soft. Like, everywhere. Which made it difficult to decipher whether he was staring at her like that because he was disgusted…or hungry.
“You’re staring,” Elise whispered, feeling an increasing need to cover herself. Only he was standing in the way of her reaching the towel.
“You’re beautiful,” he replied, catching her completely off guard.
Elise didn’t know how to respond to that. She was naked. In front of a stranger. A stranger who was very attractive, but who was also her kidnapper. “Can you hand me the towel please?”
Manhandler blinked as if a fog was lifting from his brain then cleared his throat a couple times. “Sure, yeah. Of course.” He handed her the brand new, plush towel that still had its tags. Obviously something his partner had acquired during his venture into town.
“Thank you.” Elise wrapped it around herself. As she stepped out, he stepped back, giving her space to get past. Then they each stood there, as if at a loss for what to do next. Elise needed to get dressed, but she wasn’t about to do it with him standing watch. “Do you mind?” She indicated the pile of clothes on the floor with a wave of her hand.
“Right. I’ll be just outside the door.”
She nodded, grateful she wouldn’t have to get into another screaming match with him.
Manhandler paused in the open doorway to look back at her. “You have five minutes.”
“Okay.”
He stood there, his fingers drumming against the door as if he had more to say. After much consideration, he finally spoke. “You saw my face.”
She nodded, the weight of those words settling like a rock in her chest. “Yes, I suppose I did.” Which also meant his next words were probably going to be that he’d have to kill her when all of this was said and done, and this time it wasn’t going to be an empty threat.
“Keep that between us,” he said, surprising the hell out of her. Elise’s gaze flew up in shock. The look he gave her was grave. “And make sure to put your blindfold back on when you’re done.”
There was a silent, mutual understanding that passed between them, and then he stepped out into the hall and closed her inside the bathroom. Elise stood in shock for an untold amount of time, unsure if she’d heard him right, but praying she had. What did it mean for her, if he was willing to overlook the fact that she could now identify him to the cops? If he wasn’t going to share that detail with his partner?
Elise couldn’t answer that, but she knew one thing for certain: That one innocent event had put her square in the path of danger, even more so than she had been before.
Aware that she had burned through most of the five minutes he’d allotted her, Elise dried off quickly and got dressed. She had just finished finger combing her hair when there was a double-tap on the door and Manhandler poked his head in.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Elise faced him, clasping her hands in front of her. “Good, because I could eat a horse.”
Looking her over, Manhandler’s brows pinched together. “Did you forget something?”
Elise frowned before remembering one key element of her outfit. With a mental sigh, she picked up the blindfold from the edge of the sink and put it back in place. When it was lights out again, Manhandler stepped inside and clasped her hand with his.
“Remember, not a word about this.”
“I know.”
As if she was going to just spout off about having seen his face? The one thing that was keeping his wild card of a partner from putting a bullet between her eyes on the spot? She might be a bit naïve, but Elise was no dummy. She knew how to keep her mouth shut. Besides, this could work in her favor. If she played her cards right.
The smell of eggs and burnt toast filled the front of the cabin, and Elise’s stomach growled as she was led to sit in a hard-backed chair. On principle, she wasn’t very fond of eggs, but she hadn’t eaten since dinner the day before, and a warm meal beat cold Pop-Tarts every day of the week.
“Enjoy your shower?” Driver asked, his words clipped. Clearly, he hadn’t been on board with her availing herself of their facilities.
“Don’t be a dick,” Manhandler told him as he parked himself down beside her. “Open, buttercup.” He proceeded to feed her her breakfast, and Elise chewed quietly while the men launched into yet another argument.
“You’re treating her like a pet instead of a hostage.”
“It’s called basic human decency. You should try it sometime.”
“Hand feeding her, sharing a bed, then showering together,” Driver listed off. “What next, you going to take off her blindfold and issue proper introductions?”
Elise paused mid-chew, and Manhandler grew so quiet, she swore she could hear his labored breathing.
“You need to watch how you speak to me.”
Driver grunted. “Really? Because I’m beginning to think I need to watch you about as close as you’ve been watching her. Do I need to worry about your loyalties?”
The fork dropped to the table with a clank. “Two days and you’re already paranoid I’m turning against you? Wow, I gotta say, I thought you had better sense than that.”
“Don’t question me. I trust my instincts, and right now they’re saying this shit between you and her is off.”
“You think I got something going on with her?” Manhandler’s chair scraped the floor as he bolted to his feet. Elise shrunk back, wishing she could become invisible. She did not want to be caught in the middle of their feud. There was no telling if things would get violent between them, and she wasn’t prepared to find out.
“Do you?”
“So what if I did? Doesn’t mean I’ve jumped ship. Doesn’t mean I’m not still a wanted man. It changes nothing. At the end of the day, we’re still gonna do what we gotta do.”
“So if she becomes a liability?”
“Then we’ll handle it,” Manhandler said, and his chilling delivery caused Elise to shiver…in a bad way.
Driver seemed to take a moment to ponder his partner’s words. “So you’re just looking for a piece of ass then, and you got your eyes on this lil’ fil?”
“Do you see anything better around here to pass the time?” Manhandler growled.
Elise’s lip curled. Betrayed. That’s how she felt. She should have known he was just using her, but instead she’d gone and given him attributes that he didn’t deserve. He was just another man looking to get laid. And she just happened to be the closest thing with a vagina available.
It made her want to kick him square in the balls. If she thought she could get away with it, she would. In a heartbeat.
Driver chuckled and pulled out a chair of his own. “Beats watching TV. Antenna doesn’t pick up shit through all these damn trees.”
“That’s because people don’t come this far out into the boonies for the reception, dipshit.”
“Hey, this dipshit just cooked you a meal. Try showing
some of that basic human decency you’re always spouting off about.”
They shared a friendly laugh and Elise was forced to listen to more of their idiotic banter, which now grated on her last nerve. Just an object to be used, was she? Well, she’d just sit and stew about that awhile and try to come up with a plan to get the hell out of Dodge ASAP.
Chapter Seven
“You’re mad.”
Elise ignored Manhandler’s surprisingly astute observation, considering he was pond scum. With her shoes still on, she laid down on the bed and curled onto her side. She had been perfectly silent all day, playing the perfect hostage while formulating every possible escape plan she could come up with. So far, the only real opportunity she thought she had would fall to pure chance. Specifically, if she got the chance to run, she was going to have to think later and take it.
The bedsprings squawked like an injured crow, and the mattress sucked her into its center like a vortex, pulling Elise toward her captor’s warm, hard body.
She grabbed the edge of the frame and hauled herself back into position, refusing any and all contact with the creep. Stockholm’s could suck it. She wasn’t falling into that trap. No way, no how.
That didn’t mean she was unaware or unaffected by the male presence lying beside her, though. He wasn’t something she could easily ignore, especially since her body was hyper alert whenever he was nearby, which was all the time. She couldn’t escape his presence any more than she could escape the effect he had on her.
But it didn’t mean she had to give in.
“Is this you giving me the silent treatment, buttercup?”
Elise’s response was to scoot closer to the edge of the bed until her knees overlapped the side and she felt a chill along her back.
“You should know that silence doesn’t work on men. We like a woman who knows her place.”
“You mean on her back?” Elise sniped, incensed. She wasn’t normally a violent person, but she wanted to gouge his eyes out.
“I thought that might have pissed you off.” Manhandler rolled toward her, pressing his chest against her back and leaving her nowhere to go. His fingertips trailed down her arm, and goose bumps rose in their wake. It was as if that bit of physical contact in the bathroom gave him the notion that he had license to touch her now. “You know I only said that to throw him off, right? He was too close to the truth.”
She had suspected that, but at the same time, that’s exactly what he would say if he thought it might get him a free pass into her panties. Elise wasn’t about to fall for that little trick. She wasn’t born yesterday.
“Come on. Don’t be mad. Not after we shared that moment in the bathroom.”
Which confirmed her suspicions. “You mean when you groped me?” Elise shrugged his hand off, but he wasn’t deterred. Instead, he turned his attention to her hair, petting it back off her shoulder.
“Buttercup—”
“Do you really think calling me by a pet name is going to loosen me up? Because I’m not one to be taken advantage of.”
“I’m not trying to take advantage,” he insisted. “I just don’t know your name.”
Elise…hesitated. Pondering the merit of his words, she knew he was probably telling the truth. Or at least part of it. In an effort not to get to know one another, not to blur the lines of captor and captee, he’d resorted to calling her something sweet, whereas she’d gone with something else. “Well, I don’t know yours either, so I’ve assigned you a nickname too.”
His fingers, which had been combing through her hair, paused. “I can only imagine what you settled on,” he mused.
“Manhandler.” She almost laughed, saying it out loud. If only she was permitted to see his face. Damn blindfold.
“That’s…original. Is that what you really think of me?”
“Yes. You have a tendency to manhandle things. Namely, me.”
He took a moment to think that over. “Do you have one for my partner too?”
“Drop dead sexy is what I’ve been going with,” she fibbed, enjoying the weighted silence that proceeded.
“And how did you come up with that? You haven’t even seen him.” The tightness in his voice told Elise all she needed to know: She’d bruised his poor, fragile ego. Aw, poor baby. Served him right.
“No, but I’ve heard him.”
“So you like his voice?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug. He could take it however he wanted.
“So you liked getting smacked around then? Is that foreplay to you or something?” Now he sounded both perturbed and disgusted. The next thing Elise knew, he was up and out of bed. At least it got her what she wanted, which was away from him. “What is wrong with you women? It’s like you can’t help but be stupid.”
“Hey! I have a masters in biology!” Sitting up, Elise ripped off her blindfold and found him pacing the foot of the bed.
“Then you should be fully aware of what an idiot you are. Attracted to the worst kind of man? That’s textbook, buttercup.”
“You call me that again, and I will punch you in the face,” she threatened, pointing a finger at him.
“So that is how you like it, eh?” Manhandler marched up to her, his sheer size and the dark, menacing look in his eyes scaring the wits out of her. “Maybe I should give you a good smack too, then, if that’s what gets you off.”
“Try it. See what happens,” Elise seethed. If he thought for a second that she would let him lay a finger on her and not fight back, he was in for a shock. Elise might be laid-back and she might avoid conflict in favor of keeping the peace and she might let cooler heads prevail on most days, but this was not most days. If she was going down, it was going to be fighting.
“What are you gonna do, buttercup? Claw my eyes out?”
No, because she had a bad habit of biting her nails off, but Elise would take a chunk out of his hide, one way or another. Lips peeling back, she bared her teeth. “I told you not to call me that.”
He never saw it coming. One moment, Elise was on the bed, and the next, she had launched herself at him. He’d barely had time to brace himself before she impacted his chest with her full weight. Stumbling backward, Manhandler fought to keep her from battering his face while simultaneously attempting to find his footing so they both didn’t crash to the floor.
But he was failing, and Elise had lost her mind. Blinded by her fury, she unleashed her anger, fear, and age’s worth of resentment toward the male population on him. The words that came out of her mouth were unintelligible, even to her own ears. But the gist of it was that he was a piece of crap, and she was going to wipe the floor with him.
“Just calm the fuck down,” Manhandler told her as he fought off her attack. But she’d wrapped her legs good and tight around his hips, so she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
“You’re fucking psycho!”
“You’re a dickhead!” She slapped his face, leaving an instant handprint in his five ‘o clock shadow.
“Bitch!”
She slapped him again, and he cursed again. The room swirled around them as they struggled for power and exchanged names that would make even the most foul-mouthed neighborhood gangbanger blush. The room spun once more, and then Elise’s back slammed up against the wall, rattling an old, yellowed-by-time painting.
Manhandler put them nose to nose, those blue eyes penetrating hers with a fire that Elise wasn’t sure how to respond to. She was both spitting mad and turned on.
Stupid hormones.
“Don’t ever hit me again.”
Elise’s breath rushed out of her in sharp gasps, matching his. “Let me go, and I will. I guarantee it.”
He glared. “You want to die?”
“Better than being stuck with you another minute.”
There was no thought process involved. One second they were staring each other down, seething mad and deciding how best to kill one another, and the next they were crushed together, mouths and b
odies fused as they engaged in a new battle.
Tongues dueled and fingers grasped and tore at clothes, hair, and body parts in an effort to touch and feel every inch of each other’s body. Elise’s wrapped herself around him tighter, and he pressed her against the wall so hard she was surprised the plaster didn’t crack. Kissing him was like waging a war between opposing nations, teeth biting lips while fisting each other’s hair to the point of pain.
The dam had broken, unleashing passion, intrigue, and pent-up anger and frustration, all culminating in what Elise knew would be one hell of a hate fuck.
But was it hate? She didn’t think so. If anything, it was pure, unadulterated lust that demanded satiation. Denying her attraction and the clawing need to act on it was, at this point, futile. Knowing it wasn’t a good idea wasn’t going to stop her, because Elise also knew that she had never felt this alive before. And if his partner made good on his threats to put her in a shallow grave, then she was going to milk what time she had left on earth for everything it had.
“If this is how you handle your anger,” Manhandler said as he began kissing and licking a path down her jaw to her neck, “then we’re going to fight more often.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Elise panted while knotting her fingers in his hair. “I’m making an exception, and only because it’s been a while.”
“So I get to fuck you by default?”
“Who said I’m going to let you do anything to me?”
“Oh, buttercup,” Manhandler said as he pulled her shirt up to her neck and released one of her breasts from its cup, “I think we both know I’m going to fuck you.”
Elise dropped her head back against the wall, moaning in bliss as he took her nipple between his lips and sucked hard. There was nothing she could say. He was right. She was going to let him do bad things to her, but only because she wanted it. At a time when her life was in utter chaos, she told herself she was in control of this. She set the pace. She set the rules. She controlled the outcome.
Taken: A Romance Novella Page 4