“I can almost hear the wheels turning in that head of yours,” Manhandler commented around a mouthful of boob. “Stop thinking and start feeling, buttercup.”
“There you go telling me what to do again.”
He chuckled. Then licked a circle around her nipple before lifting his head to meet her sex-glazed stare. “Better get used to it, buttercup. Not only am I going to tell you what to do, but I’m going to manhandle the shit out of you until you beg for mercy. But you know what?”
“What?” She panted, eager for his answer.
He lowered his mouth until his lips feathered across hers. “I won’t give you any.”
Elise’s heart galloped, and her fingers, still buried in his hair, clenched.
“You naughty girl. You like that, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” was all she could manage. She not only liked it; she loved it. The idea of him giving her no quarter was thrilling. She longed to be taken, and knowing he would be merciless just ratcheted up her desire even more.
Her shirt came up and over her head before she could blink. Her bra was removed a second later and discarded as well. Elise, topless, watched as if from a distance as her captor cupped and massaged, licked and nipped at each of her breasts, feasting on her tender flesh.
As his hands meandered down her across her hips and around to cup her backside, Elise fell victim to the sensations, uncaring of the consequences. Just then, she wanted only to feel.
“Last chance to back out,” he said as he carved a path back up her neck with his tongue. His fingers grasped the waistband of Elise’s jeans at the small of her back and began to pull. Cool air kissed her heated flesh as he peeled her garments off, exposing her.
“I’m not backing out,” she informed him. In fact, Elise was determine to see this through. When would she find another opportunity to experience this? To experience this overpowering feeling of excitement? She would only live once, and as it happened, it may be her last chance to do anything so adventurous or risky.
“Good, because I wouldn’t let you anyway.”
Ominous words, Elise mused. In any other situation, she would take it as a threat, and an unwelcome one at that. But she was invested, and his words only served to fuel the fire burning within her.
Pinned against the wall, her pants pulling tight against her thighs, Elise clung to her deliciously sexy captor as he tugged at his own pants. Releasing himself, she felt his hard cock spring free and tap against her cleft. She was already dripping wet, but the feel of his flesh against hers made it so much worse.
A pinch of glorious pain brought on by an increasingly aching need to feel him inside her caused Elise to moan loudly, and being the gentleman that he was, Manhandler endeavored to relieve her right away.
Crushing his mouth to hers, he guided himself inside her, inch by glorious inch, stretching and filling Elise until she cried out. He swallowed her moans, one after another, forcing more out with each thrust of his hips. Elise’s fingers pulled at his hair, her nails scratched at his scalp, and her teeth bit down on his lips. She feasted on him, like an animal, a woman possessed.
She’d never felt more out of control in her life.
“That’s it, buttercup. Fuck me,” Manhandler commanded, and it was then she realized she was moving in time with him, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. His fingers on her ass dug in, peeling her cheeks apart and angling her hips so she could take him even further, and that made all the difference in the world.
Elise felt the orgasm explode without warning, expanding out from every cell like a supernova, swallowing up her very consciousness until she was reduced to a mass of sensation without collective thought.
“Oh, God!” she screamed, uncaring who heard her. There was no room for shyness or reservation in a moment like that. She was a slave to her primal mind, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Oh fuck, yeah! Your pussy is gripping me so tight,” Manhandler grunted as he began pounding into her with earnest. He was a man on a mission, driving her back into the plaster, the sheer power of his thrusts threatening to break her.
Elise would have bruises, of that she had no doubt. But she was loving every second of his brutal attack. It was raw, unfettered, and everything she craved. She’d take everything he gave her and relish in the memories afterward. Even if he was a dick. Even if he was her captor.
Because she’d rather spend her last moments on this planet living rather than feeling nothing at all.
Chapter Eight
“What’s your name?” Elise asked, her voice heavy with the need for sleep. For once, she didn’t care about the potential filth of the bed linens or the age of the mattress in which they laid on. She was warm and content resting against her captor’s chest, which had long since returned to its normal breathing pattern.
She was doing her damnedest not to get attached, but she couldn’t deny that she was already counting the beats of his heart and enjoying the sound of it far more than she should.
“As opposed to Manhandler, you mean?” he asked jokingly.
“Yes,” she said with an easy smile.
His fingers trailed lightly down her arm, raising goose bumps. “Marcus. But don’t call me that unless we’re alone.”
Because his partner would flip out? Elise wasn’t about to test that theory. “Okay.”
“What’s yours?”
“As opposed to buttercup?” she asked with a teasing lilt.
“Just for future reference, of course.”
“Elise. My name is Elise.”
“Elise…” Marcus said, trying it out, and Elise experienced a shiver of renewed awareness at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His finger curled beneath her chin, tilting her face up toward his. Those denim blues bore into her, reaching something unnamable deep inside of her. “I like you, Elise. Far more than is advisable.”
Her heart sprinted. “I feel the same about you.” Hope sprung up inside of her. Had she reached that human part of him? Had she managed to secure her release rather than sign her death warrant?
“That doesn’t mean I won’t do what I have to do, though.”
That false sense of hope rushed out of her like air from a balloon. Elise blinked back tears, refusing to show weakness in front of him. Instead, she pulled away, turned over, and drew the blankets up to cover her nakedness. She didn’t want to be any more vulnerable than she already was.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Marcus said, making no attempt to comfort her. “I just want you to understand that it was sex. That’s all it was. It can’t be anything more than that.”
“It’s fine,” Elise lied. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she spat, irritated with his correct assessment of her. She didn’t want to be transparent, especially to him. He didn’t deserve to see that part of her, the part that he’d managed to touch without her permission.
Or maybe she had given him permission without realizing it. Maybe that’s why she was upset now, because she’d allowed him access to a place that she’d wanted to keep locked away. A kidnapping and hostage situation was not, after all, conducive to a love match.
This just proved that Elise was not a one-night stand kind of woman.
No matter. She’d just have to relock that door and, this time, she was going to throw the key far, far away.
Stupid girl.
“I can go if you want,” Marcus offered. “If you need some time alone.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Elise grumbled.
Marcus sighed. The bed dipped and then jiggled before springing back into place. Elise listened as he dressed. “I’ll go see about dinner. Get some rest. Maybe a little sleep will help you shake that attitude.”
�
��Again, go fuck yourself.” Of course she had an attitude, and it was entirely his fault. She might not consider him dangerous, but Marcus was a dick.
Why did she have to find that so damn sexy?
“I’ll be back in an hour. Make sure to put that blindfold back on.”
Elise bristled at his commanding tone. Gone was the warmth, and in its place was the cold, hard edge of the man who’d kidnapped her. She hated that blindfold. Hated being in the dark, unable to gauge her surroundings, unable to plot her freedom.
But it was better than the wrath that his partner would no doubt rain down on her if he found out she knew what either of the men looked like. He struck her as the kind of person who didn’t like loose ends.
***
Elise wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep, but she knew what woke her up—shouting. She could hear both men arguing, loudly, with one another from somewhere in the cabin. Unfortunately, the thick combination of plaster and log-style walls dampened their voices, making their words unintelligible.
Aware that she needed to be extremely careful, Elise quietly rose from the bed, easing her weight off slowly to avoid making the old metal springs squeak, and, clutching the sheet to her chest, tiptoed across the room to the door. Pressing her ear to the wooden panel, she strained to make out their words, to separate their voices, which fought to overtake one another.
“…screwing the bitch!”
“…nothing…with anything… It won’t interfere… won’t cause any problems!”
“….see your face!”
“…don’t know what you’re talking about! She’s…going to…anything!”
“…dead!”
Elise flinched and stepped away from the door. She may not have been able to hear everything, but she’d heard enough. They were arguing about her, and, she feared, about whether or not to kill her.
She needed to get the hell out of here. Now. She wasn’t about to wait around and find out what they planned to do with her.
Dressing herself, Elise searched every drawer and in the closet for anything she could use as a weapon, but the place was stripped clean, leaving her with no line of defense. She’d just have to take the chance and run at the first opening she got.
With no way of knowing how long she’d been asleep or how close to that hour Marcus promised to be back in, she slumped down onto the bed, prepared to wait. The springs protested her weight once again, and Elise got an idea.
Dropping to her knees, Elise flung the blankets back and peered beneath the piece of ancient history. Sure enough, giant metal springs sat exposed, rusty with age and no doubt brittle.
Grabbing one that looked to be hanging on by a thread, Elise sent up a prayer and pulled.
The metal snapped off in her hand with surprising ease. Shocked but relieved, Elise inspected the coiled hunk of metal. It wasn’t perfect by any means. It was old and bulky, would probably give her lockjaw, and there was no way she could hide it on her person.
But it was better than nothing.
She was just climbing to her feet when Elise realized that the fighting had ceased and the sound of heavy footsteps were headed her way. Frantically, Elise looked around for a place to hide her makeshift weapon. The closet was too far away, and the nightstand lacked drawers, so she tossed it back under the bed, out of sight.
She faced the door, preparing for an altercation, when she spotted the black strap of fabric on the table. Remembering Marcus’s warning, she lunged, scooping it up and quickly yanking it down over her head to cover her eyes just seconds before the door swung open.
“Get your ass out here, bitch,” Driver snarled, clearly taking his anger out on her.
Elise didn’t budge an inch, unsure of where to go without running into anything. He must have realized this. With an impatient huff, Drive marched over and snatched her arm in a brutal grip then all but dragged her from the room.
Elise had to jog to keep up, tripping over her own feet the whole way. When they reached their destination, Driver practically threw her down on the couch. She landed on her side with a thud, the furniture sliding back a few inches.
“Hey, easy!” Marcus chastised, but his partner was having none of it.
“Since you’ve gone soft, I’ll be watching over her from now on.”
“The hell you will. You’re out of control, man,” Marcus told him. “She might be our insurance, but that doesn’t give you license to abuse her.”
“Newsflash: That’s how you keep shit in line. You don’t coddle the hostage. If they don’t fear you, they take advantage. Next thing you know, you’re in the back of a police car in cuffs while she sells your ass down the river. You can stand there and be stupid all you want, but I’m not taking any risks. The bitch stays with me.”
“Not a chance in hell!” Marcus shouted, causing Elise to jump. “You want me to be harder on her, fine. I’ll tie her up again.” Elise squeaked her protest, but they both yelled “Shut up!” so she shut right up. “If she’s tied up and blindfolded, she won’t be going anywhere and she won’t be able to say anything about anything.”
“Except that you’ve already let her see you,” Driver said, his tone low and filled with malice.
Marcus was silent for a beat too long, confirming for his partner that he’d hit the nail on the head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Because I could have sworn that while you were nailing her ass to the wall, I walked in and saw the two of you making eyes at each other. It was a real spiritual moment,” he mocked.
“You were spying on me?”
“Considering the way the walls were shaking, I thought you might need a hand controlling the bitch. Seems you had everything under control. Except the part where you let her see your fucking face, you fucking idiot!”
There was a struggle then, following by the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and all Elise could do was sit there, stiff and filled with fear, while the men crashed around the room. Things were broken, curses were thrown, and threats were issued, and at the end of it all, somehow both men came out of it alive.
“You’re a real bastard,” Driver said then spit.
“So you’ve said before, fucker.”
They laughed good-naturedly, then grunted as they picked themselves up and dusted themselves off.
“Dinner is ready,” Driver announced with a pained groan as he strode away.
“I’ll fix a couple of plates. You hungry, buttercup?”
Elise nodded, too afraid to speak in case it set off another round of fisticuffs. While Marcus prepared to serve their dinner, she sat in stunned and confused silence, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. From friends to enemies and back again. The two of them had a strange and baffling dynamic that she just couldn’t wrap her head around.
And men called women crazy?
Chapter Nine
Despite her quiet protests and whispered pleas, Marcus left Elise behind to do a run. Apparently, it was his turn to go into town for supplies. She’d begged him to tell his partner to do it, but after his fight with Driver, he’d changed.
Marcus wasn’t as warm or inviting as he’d been with her before. He was distant now, his responses clipped. Even his touch was mechanical, as if he no longer viewed her as a person.
Except she knew that wasn’t true, especially after what he’d said to Driver. But even if he did see her as a person with feelings and someone deserving of respect, he was no longer treating her with kindness or affection. He was simply going through the motions. Every hour, he made sure to give her a bathroom break. When it was time to eat, he fed her. When it was time to sleep, he helped her to the bed and kept guard throughout the night. The blindfold hadn’t come off once.
And he’d stayed true to his word. Elise was bound again, a thick braid of rope holding her hands behind her back. At least it wasn’t cutting off circulation this time, but it certainly put a wrench in her plans for escape.
At least Driver hadn’t har
assed her in the last hour or so. He just left her alone to rot in the bedroom, which, all things considered, she preferred over spending any time whatsoever around him.
I wish I didn’t have to wear this stupid blindfold, she thought to herself. Before all this, she never knew eyelids could sweat. Ugh.
At least the bedroom door had been left open. As such, she was able to listen to the voices on the television filtering down the hall.
Driver was watching the news again, obsessed with finding out if they’d been identified yet and if the police were hot on their trail. The way she figured it, they’d been holed up for days. If the police had any leads on their whereabouts, they’d have rescued her by now.
Where was a good detective when a girl needed one?
Elise shifted restlessly, tugging at her bindings in hopes of loosening them for her imagined escape. She may not know the exact layout of the cabin, but she had a fairly good idea of where the front door was. One chance, that’s all she needed, and she would make her attempt.
At this point, she figured she was out of options—they’d been slim anyway. It didn’t look as if the police were coming anytime soon either, so she was on her own.
Escape or rot—those were her options.
Elise liked her freedom, so she was going to take it. All she needed was an opening.
The sound of boots clomping down the hall brought her attention back to the here and now, and Elise sat upright, her shoulders filling with tension as she waited.
“Behaving yourself for once, I see,” Driver commented, pausing in the doorway. If she could see his face, Elise imagined he was looking pretty smug just then. She got the impression that he wore that expression often.
“I wasn’t aware of having done anything but behave since you abducted me,” she replied.
Driver’s tone turned clipped. “You’re a mouthy bitch for someone who’s this close to death. Especially after that little stunt you pulled earlier.”
“I’ve been tied up for a while. Maybe you could be a bit clearer with your baseless accusations?”
He gave a derisive snort. “Fucking my partner. Thought that would get you preferential treatment, did you? Maybe a ticket out of here, hmm?”
Taken: A Romance Novella Page 5