by Ranae Rose
‘You still up for it?’ he asked, grinning as he opened Tiffany’s door for her.
She nodded eagerly and repressed an uncharacteristic giggle, remembering how during the first hour of her kidnapping her awkward phrasing that had planted the seed of what was about to unfold. He took one of her hands in his and a rush of excitement washed over her as she encountered the delightfully rough textures of the calluses that covered his palms and fingertips, remembering the places they’d touched her and how wonderful it’d felt. Her clit throbbed, ready to receive the same treatment again.
She slid quickly into the backseat and lay down across it, eyeing the bulge that strained the front of his jeans as her buttonless shirt fluttered at her sides, failing completely to cover her.
James braced himself with one hand on the car roof and leaned in to seize the end of one of her pant legs in the other. He jerked and the waistband began sliding down over her hips, unable to offer much resistance without the button he’d popped from above the fly in the Tennessee woods. Within a moment, her only garment was her useless shirt. Suddenly, wearing it seemed even more daring than absolute nudity – perhaps because of the way James’ blue eyes kept darting back and forth between the fraying buttonholes and her breasts as he yanked down his own fly.
The early morning afforded enough light for her to see the tantalizing outline of his erection as it rose from his jeans, more than ready for action. She squirmed in anticipation from where she laid waiting across the seat. He was still standing in the doorway, his cock in his hand and his back to the dark Mississippi forest that lined the highway. He made to lower himself into the seat – or at least, as much of himself as he could – but Tiffany moved more quickly, seized by a sudden mouth-watering impulse.
She rose to a kneeling position and gripped the parted waistband of his jeans, pulling it down to expose his balls. She held them in one hand, relishing their warm weight against her palm as she parted her lips and took his cock into her mouth. He moaned and flexed his hips, thrusting it past her lips, farther and farther until it met the back of her throat. She relinquished her hold on his jeans and wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft instead. Her fingers were warmed by friction as her hand rose and fell, touching first the soft nest of hair that grew around the base of his cock, and then her own lips.
He groaned again, trembling slightly as he braced himself against the car for support.
She continued, tasting the salty evidence of their last encounter on his skin, until he stopped her by withdrawing suddenly. He prevented her from following by holding one of her shoulders in a vice-like grip. ‘If you don’t stop I won’t be able to do what I promised,’ he said, eyeing the seat that stretched behind her.
He exerted a gentle but commanding pressure on her shoulder and she reclined across the seat eagerly, opening her legs in welcoming invitation. James’ golden-brown head ducked beneath the doorway, the errant lock of hair she loved falling into his eyes. He lowered his body over hers, settling his elbows on the seat on either side of her body. It was a tight fit, and she couldn’t have moved beneath him if she’d wanted to. She loved it.
He took his cock in his hand and rubbed the thick head up and down her slit, smiling as he teased her. She trembled against him as he coated himself with her wetness. ‘Please,’ she said when she couldn’t stand not having him in her any longer. ‘No more teasing.’
‘Alright.’ Her core clenched at the sound of his voice, and during the brief moment before he entered her she noticed that he smelled of sweat and Coke and musky manliness. Then all her other senses were extinguished as her sense of touch exploded, wild with delight.
Their last joining had left her body tender, but she hardly cared. She was more than glad for the sequel to their last encounter, graphic snippets of which had been continually rising to the surface of her mind during the drive since. A bump that divided the seat pressed into the small of her back, forcing her to arch it, and his hips, wide with muscle, pressed her legs tight against the seats that sandwiched her body. Despite the cramped quarters, he moved with a sort of primal grace, gliding in and out of her body.
She clawed at his back, the jagged edges of her broken nails snagging his soft white T-shirt. Her core was already clenching around his cock, on the verge of coming. ‘James,’ she gasped, and another voice echoed hers.
James’ head snapped upward with amazing speed, and he scrambled to push his rebellious forelock out of his eyes even as his head hit the car’s ceiling with a heavy thump. Tiffany whimpered in bewildered ecstasy as he jerked within her, and then he was gone.
His boots abused the gravel noisily as he stood with his pants hanging down past his hips, his cock still fully erect and exposed. ‘Damn it!’ he growled, sounding more unsettled than Tiffany had ever heard him as he jerked up his underwear and jeans, whirling at the same time to face an approaching figure that was barely visible in the semi-darkness.
It was a man, and as he came closer the smirk that was plastered over his caramel face became visible. His dark eyes glittered beneath a short crop of coal-black hair. There was an exotic air about his strong nose, and he spoke with an accent that hinted at a south of the border origin, though he said ‘You’re early’ in perfect English. His eyes skimmed over James and darted knowingly to Tiffany, who still lay in a posture of readiness across the back seat. She snapped her legs shut and scrambled upright, pulling her shirt over her breasts as smoldering heat flushed her face.
‘So are you,’ James snapped, glaring at the intruder, who continued to cast long glances in Tiffany’s direction.
‘No way was I going to take a chance on missing you,’ he said, eyeing James through suddenly narrowed eyes, ‘and being left behind.’
‘Don’t be an idiot. You know I need you.’
The man with the accent tipped his head in acknowledgement of the truth, but didn’t uncross his arms.
‘So,’ James said, ‘any snags in the plan?’ There was a hard edge to his voice.
‘No. I did my part. It’s there – I saw it with my own eyes this morning.’ He cast a sideways glance at the thick forest that began only a few yards away.
James’ gaze followed. ‘Let’s not waste time. Go get it.’
The darker man’s eyes flickered with defiance. ‘You go. I’ll wait here.’
‘Damn it!’ James exclaimed. ‘Would I have even stopped if I was going to leave you when I got here?’
The other man’s face softened for a second, but he quickly resumed a stubborn expression. ‘I’m sick of those damned swampy woods. I’ve been in and out of there a dozen times. It’s your turn.’
James’ fists tightened at his sides, his knuckles going white above strained muscle and tautened sinew. ‘Fine,’ he spat, ‘but I’m taking my keys with me.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Tiffany, and she shot him a desperate glance.
James moved to block her from the other man’s view with his body, standing in place of the open door while picking up her pants from the floor mat and tossing them to her. She wiggled into them hastily, her eyes questioning as they remained locked with his blue ones.
‘You stay here,’ he told her. ‘It’s miserable in there.’ She eyed the window warily, catching a glimpse of the dark man whom James obviously knew. ‘He won’t be able to go anywhere without the car keys,’ James reassured her, following the direction of her gaze. ‘Just wait here for me.’ With that he turned on his heel and started off toward the edge of the forest, leaving Tiffany alone with the stranger.
‘Rolando!’ James barked as he strode past the man. ‘Don’t even think about hurting her.’
And then he was gone, disappeared into the thick trees and the darkness that their canopy afforded despite the fact that the sun was peeking from above their boughs, a fiery gem against the grey morning.
Tiffany waited nervously in the back seat with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees and her back to the road. Her heart beat too fast against her ribs. What the hell
as going on? She couldn’t wait for James to get back. She had more than a few questions for him. Desperate for distraction from her increasingly troubled thoughts, she eyed the mysterious Rolando, who was languishing a couple yards away. He stood leaning against a tree as, his features growing steadily more distinct as the day broke. She studied him as much out of wariness as curiosity, noting a few faint acne scars that dotted his otherwise perfectly smooth caramel cheeks and a small, curving scar that stood out white and bare below his right ear. When he turned to face her, her heart leapt into her throat.
‘So you’re the hostage,’ he said, raking her from head to bare toes with his eyes. Tiffany fought the urge to shrink away from his gaze, knowing that the closed door to her back would prevent it. His eyes settled on the front of her shirt, where her nipples were on prominent display through the light blue fabric. ‘Looks like you’ve kept the drive interesting for James.’ He grinned, revealing slightly crooked teeth.
He climbed into the back seat with her and the door handle dug into her spine as she compressed herself against it. His scent filled the car – a mixture of sweat and the earthy odor of the swampy woods. What was in there that James had gone to retrieve? And how the hell did Rolando know she was James’ hostage? No matter, she decided as Rolando leaned close – she had much bigger worries at the moment.
‘You seem like a fun girl,’ Rolando breathed.
Tiffany recoiled, holding her breath against the stench of his. Maybe he’d been camping out in the ‘damned swampy woods’. He certainly didn’t smell as if he’d bathed or brushed his teeth recently.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she said with as much sternness as she could muster as he placed a hand on her hip.
‘Aw, we’ve got plenty of time – it’ll take him at least twenty minutes to come back with the money,’ Rolando said, his face splitting into a devious grin.
Money.
So that was it. But why would James have money stashed in the Mississippi backwoods? And who was this Rolando creep? Apparently, James’ criminal plans and history reached farther than he had revealed. A pang of betrayal pierced Tiffany’s heart. Partner? Had she really believed James when he’d called her that back in the woods? Yes, she had. A fresh wave of heat flooded her cheeks as she contemplated her idiocy.
‘Don’t be that way baby,’ Rolando crooned when Tiffany hit his groping hand away from her breasts. ‘Not after I saw what you were doing with James.’
Tiffany wrinkled her nose in distaste. Was this all James had really intended for her, a fling as a whore for a pair of criminals? A stinging pressure welled against the back of her eyeballs, and her face flushed anew with embarrassment. He’d seemed so sincere when he’d kissed her among the pine trees and stroked her face as he’d told her of his past. But he hadn’t told her all of it. What he’d revealed was apparently only the tip of the iceberg, if it was even true at all. She felt like a fool. This was what she got for being impulsive and impractical. Agreeing to go with James was the only time she’d ever let herself be either of those things, and it’d blown up spectacularly in her face.
Rolando’s hand snaked up the front of her blouse as she berated herself, and he squeezed one her breasts, calling her rudely back to the present.
A dual surge of fear and indignant rage flooded through Tiffany, and she drew back her fist to strike Rolando as hard as she could across the bridge of his nose, releasing the anger and frustration she felt in one blow.
He rapidly withdrew his hand and pressed it to his nose, grimacing. Half a moment later his hands shot out unexpectedly, grasping her wrists and pinning them against the seat. ‘What’d you do that for?’ he demanded. ‘Did James hurt you?’ His voice softened a little, but the effect was ruined by the eager grin that curved his mouth. ‘Well, I won’t. I promise to be gentle with you and give you a good time…’
She jerked her right knee upward, driving it hard into his crotch.
He groaned in agony and pressed his hands between his legs, letting his head fall into Tiffany’s lap. She began wiggling in an attempt to get out from under him, but froze as a sudden flash of movement caught her eye.
A car was speeding down the lonely highway – a police cruiser. She stared in disbelief while the car slowed, as if the officer inside had sensed her gaze. When Rolando finally worked up the will to raise his head from her lap, he saw it and groaned again.
The police cruiser pulled up behind the Saturn in the gravel turnaround and an officer emerged within moments. He walked straight-backed toward the Saturn, his eyes invisible behind the dark aviator-style sunglasses that police officers everywhere seemed fond of. Tiffany could feel his gaze on her through the Saturn’s back window anyway.
The officer had to bend at the waist to peer into the back seat at Rolando and Tiffany. Rolando still wore a half-grimace, and his face had gone pale beneath a light sheen of sweat. He was the picture of guilt, and Tiffany was horribly aware of the fact. ‘You all right, miss?’ the cop asked, peering past Rolando at Tiffany. Of average height and build, he spoke with a southern drawl that marked him as a Mississippi native.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘What about you?’ the officer asked, eyeing Rolando with a frown. ‘What the hell’s your problem?’
Rolando licked his lips. ‘Nothing’s wrong officer,’ he mumbled, looking down at his knees.
‘The hell it isn’t.’
Rolando grimaced. ‘Alright. I feel sick. Ate some bad fast food or something. That’s why I pulled over. That’s all.’
The officer eyed him, his skepticism obvious. ‘License and registration,’ he demanded.
Rolando looked as if he wanted to curse. Instead, he reached behind himself, apparently to fumble in his pocket for his wallet. Tiffany knew better – she could see the handle of a gun peeking from above his waistband as he lifted the hem of his shirt. The cop spoke again just as his fingers brushed it.
‘Hey!’ the officer said, leaning closer and pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead suddenly. His eyes were brown, and they went wide with surprise – and perhaps recognition – as he met Tiffany’s eyes. The officer drew his gun before Rolando could and aimed it at Rolando’s chest. ‘Don’t move,’ he said. ‘Put your hands in the air above your head. Slowly.’
Rolando’s hand hovered over the gun handle as he sweated.
‘Now,’ the officer said, ‘or I shoot.’ There was no hint of an idle threat in his voice.
Rolando raised his hands slowly into the air, gunless.
‘Miss,’ the officer said, ‘just stay still. I’m going to get you out of there.’
Tiffany’s suspicions were confirmed – he recognized her. News of her capture and her photo had apparently spread all the way to the backwoods of Mississippi.
She eyed the gun that protruded from Rolando’s clothing and cursed herself as an idea seized her. It was an impractical idea. It was a stupid idea. It was all she could think about. Her hand itched to take action. But why? James had hidden big things from her after declaring her his partner. He’d practically lied to her. Why shouldn’t she let this end and go safely back to her old life, unharmed save for the blows to her confidence and heart?
Because she couldn’t forget the look she’d seen in James’ incredible blue eyes when he’d stroked her face in the woods, that was why. She swallowed, blinked and grabbed the gun. ‘Don’t shoot!’ she cried as she raised it, aiming it past Rolando’s shoulder at the policeman. ‘Don’t shoot,’ she repeated. ‘Just put your gun down.’ Her hands were trembling, but she could probably hit him at this range anyway. She broke into a cold sweat at the thought.
The officer’s eyebrows climbed high above the rims of his sunglass lenses. ‘I’m here to help you,’ he said, maintaining his practiced hold on his weapon. ‘I won’t let him hurt you.’
‘I’ll shoot if you make me,’ Tiffany said. ‘Just drop your gun.’
The officer lowered his weapon slowly. ‘Calm down,’ he said in a
steady voice, ‘I’m here to help.’
‘I don’t want to be helped!’ Tiffany cried, and it was true. She couldn’t let James be arrested. She had to get the cop to back down.
The officer said nothing for several moments. ‘Were you in on it from the beginning?’ he finally asked.
‘No,’ Tiffany said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.
‘I want in,’ the officer said.
This time, Tiffany did sound surprised. ‘What?’
‘You heard me. I want in. I want a cut of the cash.’
‘No,’ Tiffany said. Her arms were trembling. The gun was too heavy for her to hold up for much longer.
‘You don’t have much of a choice,’ the officer replied, ‘unless you want to go to jail.’
‘I told you I’ll shoot if I have to,’ she reminded him, trying to ignore the queasiness that assaulted her at the mere thought of firing the gun.
‘Go ahead,’ the officer said coldly. ‘You’ll never make it out of Mississippi if you do. Cops would be crawling everywhere within an hour. They’d catch you at one of the roadblocks, unless you want to take your chance on foot in the swamp? The gators and snakes sure would appreciate a sweet treat like you.’ He smiled cruelly, and the hair on the back of Tiffany’s neck stood up.
‘We made it out of New York,’ she said stubbornly, ‘and all the way here.’
‘He’s right, Tiffany.’
Tiffany startled, nearly losing her grip on the gun when she heard James’ deep voice. The officer whirled to see James standing at the forest’s edge, a heavy-looking duffel bag slung over his right shoulder and a gun in his left hand, already trained on the officer. ‘Drop that gun,’ he commanded, ‘and we’ll talk.’
Obviously realizing he couldn’t possibly shoot both James and Tiffany before one or both of them fired at him, the officer complied and his gun clattered to the ground, raising a cloud of dust from the gravel. Tiffany shoved Rolando aside, scrambling over him and out of the car. Her shirt gaped before she remembered it, but the police officer was still staring at James and didn’t see.