Dancing with Fire

by Susan Kearney

  “Your skin’s glowing in the lantern light,” he murmured. “Do you have any idea how hot you look?”

  She leaned forward and performed a subtle shoulder shimmy that made her breasts quiver. “So. You’d like to see more?”

  “Damn straight.” His gaze dropped to her flesh, exactly as she’d intended.

  Sashaying over to him, she hooked her fingers into his jeans. “Tonight I’m in charge.”

  He cocked a haughty eyebrow, but his lips turned up at the edges. “Is that so?”

  She skimmed her hands over his stomach and lifted his shirt over his head. “We’re not going to be able to take this all the way off.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Your shirt will get wet in the shower.”

  “I’m hoping more than my shirt gets wet.”

  She angled her head and considered his chest. His broad shoulders and powerful pecs fired her blood to a heated simmer. Sawyer didn’t have the lean muscles of a dancer or the thick ones of a weightlifter. He resembled an Olympic swimmer, his proportions pleasing to the eye, masculine and calling to her on a multitude of levels, both visual and tactile.

  She couldn’t wait to skim her hands over his bared flesh. Her mouth watered at the thought of having him when she wanted, how she wanted.

  The tiny bathroom didn’t leave her a lot of maneuvering room. But that made removing his jeans more interesting. The lack of space gave her the excuse to let her hair brush against his chest and her fingers tease his hips as she unsnapped his pants.

  But although he was clearly ready, she thought it would be fun to set the pace. Sawyer always seemed so cool and patient, in control. And she suddenly yearned to push him. Play with him. See how far he’d let her go.

  Leaning into him, she kissed him lightly, teasingly, careful not to injure her already bruised lip. Meanwhile, she slid her hands down warm, hard abs into his jeans. She cupped him where he was soft, stroked him where he was hard. And all the while she kept her mouth fused to his, accepting the pain, using the pain to drive away her fear of this place and center her in this moment. Her free hand rested on his throat where his pulse thrummed to its own pace—fast and hard.

  And Sawyer . . . let her do what she wished.

  Damn, the man had control. The straining flesh beneath her hand and his elevated pulse told her how badly he wanted her to do more. And yet he hadn’t made demands, letting her take the lead without one complaint.

  A man had to be bold, secure in himself to give up so much, and she found that his confidence fed her own. Sawyer was all male, raring to go, and yet, for her he held back, content to wait on her wishes.

  Intoxicated by his sexiness, she grew bolder. For all she knew, this might be her last night. His last night. She ached to make it special.

  “Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

  “You. I want you.” His words came out throaty, needy, and a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.

  “You can have me tonight. All night.”

  He cocked his head, leaning it against the door frame. “Suppose I want more than tonight?”

  She chuckled, but didn’t answer the question. “You’re a greedy man.”

  “You have no idea”

  37

  KAYLIN HOOKED her hands into Sawyer’s jeans, shoved them from his hips, and he kicked them off. Glad to finally be rid of his clothing, except for the shirt caught by his wrists in the handcuffs, he was more than ready for his shower. More than ready for Kaylin.

  Letting her take total control while every cell in his body screamed at him to thrust into her heat might have been more difficult if Kaylin hadn’t evaded his question. She had no idea how much he wanted her. In his mind Kaylin was already his woman. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Telling her would only make her pull back. His feelings too strong to reveal, he kept his plans for their future to himself. She wasn’t ready to hear more yet. But he knew deep in his heart that one or two nights with Kaylin would never be enough. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not when he could barely think past her soft lips and her silky caresses.

  They were in serious trouble. But he wouldn’t waste one moment of this precious time. If this was all they had, he would make the most of it. But he fully intended for them to have many, many nights like this one.

  He might not have free use of his hands, but Sawyer could be inventive. He skimmed his lips over her shoulder blade, down to her bra. Licking a path over her flesh, he refused to ask her to take off her top. He simply out-waited her.

  He put from his mind the raging fire in his groin. Instead, he focused on her sweet scent, tasted her exotic flavor. And finally, when he didn’t think he could wait any longer, she unhooked her bra and belt, kicked off her pants, and tugged him into the shower.

  He chuckled. “Don’t you think you should turn on the water?”

  “I’ll get to that.” She kneeled, her lips closing over him. “Eventually,” she mumbled, her mouth full.

  “Kaylin, sweetie, your lip is swollen,” he protested, but she paid no attention.

  He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to touch her with his hands until he began to shake. She felt too good. He strained to hold back. But her tongue and lips and hands all worked together, teasing him, taunting him, tempting him to let go.

  His muscles strained with the effort to hold on. His breath came in harsh, hurried pants.

  And just when he thought he couldn’t hold back one more second, she turned on the shower spigot. Cool water sprayed all over him, and surprised, he yelped. But the distraction helped him to wait.

  Thankfully, she didn’t bother with the hot water. Instead, she grabbed a bar of soap and lathered her skin. “I’m going to wash you with my body,” she murmured, a half laugh in her throat.

  She slid up against him, around him, behind him. Between the water, the soap and her slippery skin, he’d never felt anything so wonderful and painful at the same time.

  “You’re making me insane.”

  “Good.”

  She had him so fired up, so slippery, so excited, he could no longer hold still. Even with her hands and mouth no longer in direct contact with his sex, he found his hips gyrating into the air.

  She laughed with him, teased him, danced around him, flicking a hand against his buttocks, a palm along his ribs, all the while slithering her soapy body against him. “You feel like heaven,” he murmured.

  She didn’t stop, spinning, whirling, humming. And then when he didn’t think he could take another second of this wonderful madness, she placed her hands around his neck, lifted her legs to his waist, and slowly lowered herself onto his erection.

  He leaned his shoulders against the wall and spread his legs to brace them. “Oh . . . my . . . God. You feel great.”

  He knew she was strong, but he wanted to help support her, an impossibility with the handcuffs. “Can you hang on?”

  “I’m a dancer.” She squeezed his waist with her legs, then lifted and lowered herself on him while water cascaded over them, Between her slippery flesh, her gyrating hips and water, water, everywhere, he closed his eyes and let himself go with her rhythm.

  When he tilted his hips a certain way, she let out soft ahs. They moved faster. Harder. She took him deeper, and his head began to spin. She convulsed, contracting, and he shot over the edge with her in a massive explosion that stole his breath and rocked him back on his heels.

  He had no idea how he stayed on his feet. Luckily, the shower’s tiny size kept him propped upright. Because making love to Kaylin was like nothing he’d ever experienced. First bliss, then bursts of pleasure, then the ebb of tension that led to satiation.

  “You are amazing,” he told her. “I haven’t had fantasies this good.” He dropped to his knees, backed her against the showe
r wall, and nuzzled between her thighs. He didn’t stop until her hands on his shoulders gripped him tight as she cried out.

  By the time they left the shower, their skin puckered from staying so long in the water, he barely had the energy to stand. She dried him with a towel, then herself, and turned out the lantern light. Together they staggered to the single bed.

  “I wish I could hold you,” he muttered. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, sleeping next to her and being unable to gather her against his body bothered him.

  She turned onto her side and scooted over, then wrapped her arms around him. “How’s this?”

  “Good. Very, very good.”

  When she drew the blanket over them and snuggled against him in the darkness, he smiled. He suspected many women in her position would be complaining and crying. Kaylin’s courage amazed him. That she could be so giving and loving when they had no idea what tomorrow would bring made him all the more determined to protect her.

  Today he hadn’t done such a good job. Asad would pay for smacking her. Remembering the man’s brutality kept Sawyer awake. Tomorrow he had to do better.

  38

  WHEN THE FRONT doorbell rang, Becca obviously didn’t want to leave Lia to get the door. Billy didn’t volunteer. He didn’t want to leave Lia, either. Shadee said he’d answer, and Becca smoothed Lia’s hair. She’d told Billy it had taken three shampoos to clean it, and she’d spent another half hour putting antibacterial ointment on Lia’s assorted cuts and bruises. She’d wanted to take her to the hospital, but Lia had quietly said that she was fine, and Billy had breathed a sigh of relief when Becca had agreed she could stay home.

  Billy shifted from foot to foot. Poor Lia. She’d had a rough time. He watched Becca tuck her in, and Lia’s even breathing suggested she’d fallen asleep.

  Shadee called from downstairs. “Becca?”

  Billy moved toward the bed. “Becca, I can stay with Lia if you want. Shadee needs you downstairs.”

  “Thanks, Billy. I’m sure if Lia wakes up she’ll be happier if you’re here.”

  Billy lifted Randy onto the bed, and the dog cuddled up next to Lia. He sat in a chair by the bed. “Go. I’ll call you if she wakes up.”

  “All right. Thanks.” Becca nodded, then peered hard at him. “Is something up with you, Billy?”

  “Don’t think so.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “You’ve changed in the last twenty-four hours—almost as if you’ve matured overnight. But Lia’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “All right.”

  The moment Becca walked out of earshot, he sat next to Lia on the bed. “She’s gone. You can open your eyes now.”

  “How did you know?” Lia asked.

  “When you sleep, you aren’t that peaceful.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Next you’ll be claiming that I snore.” Lia raised herself on her elbow and looked at him. “Becca was right. Something’s up with you.”

  “You don’t need to hear about my problems.”

  Lia shook her head. “Actually, it would be a pleasant distraction from thinking about what happened.”

  “All right. But you can’t tell anyone.”

  “So what else is new?”

  Billy told her about his weekend. About almost getting caught by the cops. About finally paying off his debt.

  “And now what?” Lia asked. “You going to keep dealing?”

  Billy shook his head. “It feels good to be in the clear.”

  “Your job at the convenience store isn’t going to pay for your habit.”

  Billy frowned. “That sounded like something Kaylin would say.”

  Lia grinned. “Kaylin’s no pushover. She has a good heart, but if she catches you smoking weed, she’ll worry about your influence over me.” Lia peeked at him. “I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

  Billy took her hand. “I’m going to quit.”

  “You think you can?”

  “Your father once told me that I would attempt more—if I knew I wouldn’t fail. So I’m going to pretend I won’t fail. I’m going to try—”

  “That’s all you can do sometimes. I tried and tried to get free. But I couldn’t. Then I decided to be brave. I couldn’t do that either, but I made up my mind that if I lived, nothing else was going to ever scare me again.”

  “Cool.”

  BECCA HEADED downstairs and stopped on the landing at the sight of the visitor waiting in the foyer. She looked like an older version of their mother, a much, much older version of Kaylin. But Becca had her regal nose.

  “Becca,” her grandmother said tentatively, as if awaiting a reaction, an invitation.

  Becca recalled their grandmother had told Kaylin that she’d had a PI watching them. She knew their names, their faces, what they did for a living. That must mean she cared—didn’t it? Regardless of the past, the trouble between mother and daughter, the lost time and poor choices, this woman wouldn’t be here right now if she didn’t care.

  Her grandmother stared up at her. “Is Lia all right?”

  Becca nodded slowly, and with the look of relief in the older woman’s eyes, the worry she’d been holding back gushed like an unclogged waterspout after a hard rain. “But Kaylin’s disappeared. Shadee saw men take her into the back room at a restaurant downtown. We haven’t heard from her or Sawyer since then.”

  “Have you informed the police? The FBI?” her grandmother asked with a worried frown that creased her smooth forehead.

  Becca shook her head. “Not directly. Kaylin feared contact with the authorities might make the situation worse. So Shadee has been the go-between.”

  “Kaylin isn’t here.” Her grandmother climbed the steps like a twenty-year-old. “However, we can still follow her wishes and ask Shadee to continue as the go-between. I’m also willing to hire a private security firm to search for Kaylin. The decision’s yours.”

  “Mine?” Becca gulped. Shocked her grandmother had made the offer, she didn’t know what to say. Ever since Lia had disappeared, she’d been happy to let Kaylin make the decisions and bear the responsibility. Now, Kaylin was gone. And her grandmother had offered resources that might save her. But Becca knew those resources could also backfire and cause the people who’d taken Kaylin to kill her.

  Becca wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over her head, and pretend this whole nightmare had never happened. But she couldn’t. As if he realized how torn she felt by having to make such a huge decision, Shadee placed a hand on her shoulder. “You aren’t alone, Becca. Tell us what you want.”

  His support meant the world to her, and her feelings for him had deepened. A few days ago, she’d feared his family wouldn’t accept her, but she no longer worried about it. Shadee would invite her to meet his family when the time was right. She trusted his judgment.

  But not only was she certain he was the man for her, she realized she liked the woman she’d become when she was with him. Shadee gave her a sense of self-worth and contentment. Being with him brought out her best qualities. She was thinking about returning to school, maybe for computer programming. If she spent enough time with Shadee, perhaps Becca would someday be as successful and independent as Kaylin. Funny how loving a guy could make her feel more independent—but Shadee had made that happen.

  Now if only she could use her newfound strength to do the right thing for Kaylin.

  39

  KAYLIN OPENED her eyes to find Sawyer dressed in blue coveralls, his hands free. He gestured to a pile of clothes and a box of cereal and milk. “A guard dropped by and left us—”

  “Is that coffee I smell?”

  With a serious look in his eyes and a small grin, he kissed her, then placed the hot drink in her hands. She sipped, letting the flavor roll over her tongue, waiting for the caffeine kick. “What�
�s going on?”

  “No one told me anything.” He paced from one side of the room to the other. “But the guards freed my hands and gave us food. I suspect they’re treating us well to gain our trust. The moment we refuse to cooperate,” Sawyer snapped his fingers in the direction of the food, “all this could be gone. Eat while you can.”

  His tone might have been light, but the news remained grim. She slipped back into her bra and donned coveralls that reminded her of a mechanic’s uniform. Grateful she wouldn’t have to prance around in her dance costume, she rinsed her mouth at the sink, then poured herself a bowl of cereal.

  Dozens of questions spiraled through her mind, but instead of asking about things Sawyer couldn’t answer, she finished her coffee and ate the cereal. Surprisingly, the food helped settle her stomach. Last night had been unreal. Sex had been a great stress reliever, but she’d gone through an entire gamut of emotions. Frenzied desire, losing herself in the moment, and afterwards, a tenderness that had enabled her to sleep. But today reality had returned.

  She’d just finished the last bite of cereal when the sound of men’s voices and footsteps approached. Kaylin strapped on her dance sandals, her heart tripping in her throat. She’d wanted to know what happened next . . . but now this room represented safety. Leaving meant reality—uncertain reality.

  Not that she or Sawyer had a choice. Three armed men opened the door and led them outside. Kaylin looked around, encouraged when they weren’t blindfolded again. Until she realized blindfolds weren’t necessary. She and Sawyer couldn’t escape.

  Palm trees indicated they were still in a tropical area. A series of buildings suggested a military-type compound. She counted eight men on patrol, others fixing two Jeeps and reroofing one of the outbuildings. Many were dark-haired, dark-eyed, and dark-skinned. Middle Eastern. But others had light brown hair and green or blue eyes, and she suspected these people were mercenaries who represented many nationalities. Those who spoke kept their tones low, but she picked up several languages: French, Arabic, and maybe even Greek or Russian.