And Now You're Mine

by Annie Harland Creek

  He caught her hand inches from his face and held it as she shook. “Coitus? Fancy words don’t make it any less of an insult. Don’t play the gentleman now, Chris. It doesn’t suit you.”

  What had he said to upset her? Had he not stated the obvious?

  “What would you have me say?”

  “You swear you always tell the truth. Why did you bring me here? Was it to shame me? Well, I’ve got news for you, asshole. I may be a lot of things but I’m not a slut. I scam the husbands, but I don’t fuck them. My body is not for sale.”

  Her words hit him as hard as a slap. He’d made a mistake. A mistake that caused her emotional pain. Had he lived alone too long, or had he always lacked empathy? Despite her angry expression, tears brimmed her lower lashes and she rose to leave.

  “Wait.” He snagged her hand. “Please, wait.”

  She hesitated, glanced around at the sea of faces watching her, and slunk back into her seat.

  “What now? Are you going to demand that striptease here in the restaurant?”

  “If you did that, I would be forced to kill every other man here.” She’d asked for the truth, but would she understand? She belonged to him now. “Now, shall we order dessert?”

  Her left eyebrow raised, and she leaned forward on her elbow. “You’re not upset?”

  “Why should I be upset?”

  “I’ve just told you that we won’t be getting groiny later. Aren’t you going to throw a fit or something?”

  Closing the dessert menu, he shooed away the approaching waiter with a flick of his wrist. “I suggest we renegotiate our agreement.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest and he growled his disapproval until she dropped them by her sides.

  “You promised me fifty thousand.”

  “And you shall have it.”

  “I only promised to take off my clothes, nothing more.”

  He motioned to her with a wiggle of his finger and she leaned closer, inches from his face.

  “When the time comes for us to make love, I will take your lead.”

  “I don’t understand.” She eased back in her seat, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What do you mean, ‘take my lead’?”

  “I will not make any advances on you unless you instruct me to do so. When we return to the cottage, you will allow me to enjoy you with my eyes and my mind, but if you want my mouth to pleasure you, and my hands to fondle your body, you must ask. Those are my terms.”

  A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, tracing the shape of her jaw before dripping down between her breasts. Her sharp intake of breath aroused him, almost as much as the peaks forming at the front of her dress. He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “What if I don’t ask?” she gasped. “Promise me you won’t hurt me, that you won’t punish me.”

  Turning his head to the side, he motioned for the waiter. “You might enjoy my punishment.” He turned slightly to wink. “And you will ask.”

  ****

  The face in the restroom mirror looked terrified. She blotted the sweat from her forehead and powdered her nose before applying a fresh coat of lip gloss and a spritz of perfume. No point in putting this off. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and felt the pressure of hands on her back moments before she fell forward. As she lay on the ground, stunned and confused, a woman’s scream pierced the silence. Fire!

  Staff charged through the swinging doors that divided the restaurant from the kitchen. Instinctively, she curled into a ball to protect her face and stomach from the stampede of feet fleeing close to her head. Above the noise, she heard him call to her, but she dared not lift her head. Something brushed her arm, then tugged at her wrist. A hand grabbed for her. Christoff?

  The purse at her wrist suddenly jerked. She held tight to the cord, the skin on the inside of her fingers burning as the assailant tugged the purse from her hands. Acrid smoke began to fill the room, blinding her as she struggled to her knees and began to crawl towards the exit. She tried to call out, but smoke filled her lungs, choking away her breath. What was that? She turned in the direction of the strange sound. A child, barely older that three or four hid under a tablecloth. Flames licked at the edges of the material. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the table flying backward and crawled to the little girl.

  “It’s okay, honey. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “Mummy.” The girl cried, her cheeks already smudged with ash.

  Evangeline squinted. The patrons had become little more than silhouettes in the darkened restaurant. Everything at the front of the building had been plunged into darkness. Where was the exit? The fire spread tendrils up the walls and crept across the ceiling. Soon the roof would collapse on top of them. Do something. She looked behind her for another way out. Damn. A wall of flame blocked her way. She reached out, her hand brushed a table. Something sloshed and the clink of crystal gave her an idea. She felt around until she touched the glass jug, lifted it to her mouth to be sure, then poured the water over the child’s head.

  “I’m sorry kid,” she told the weeping girl, “but Aunty Evangeline needs to keep you nice and damp. It’s going to get pretty hot. Close your eyes and hold tight.” She squeezed the child close to her chest and braced herself for the heat as she prepared to run through the flames.

  Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’ll never make it.”

  He scooped her up, child and all, and she snuggled against his chest keeping the little girl completely covered by their bodies as, in a blur of speed, he carried them outside to the street. As he lowered her to the ground, she held tight to him, sandwiching the child between them. Afraid to let go of either. Unsteady on her feet.

  “Violet!”

  The child raised her head and thrust out her arms. “Mummy.”

  Between sobs, the mother thanked them. “I was pushed out of the building when the fire started. I tried to get back in, but the firemen wouldn’t let me.” She kissed her child’s forehead. “Thank you. Thank you both. She’s all I’ve got. I don’t know how I could have lived if anything had happened to her.”

  Christoff addressed the woman, but kept his gaze fixed on Evangeline. “I completely understand.”

  His statement surprised her, confused her. Surely, he didn’t mean her? So far, his attention appeared to be sexually motivated. Dare she hope for more? He leaned his chin on the top of her head, his arms crushing her to his chest and she melted into his embrace.

  “Are either of you hurt?”

  She raised her head. The woman and child had gone. A fireman stood in their place.

  She shook her head. “I’m a little battered and bruised, but otherwise okay. Christoff?”

  “I am uninjured.” His eyebrows knit as he turned his attention back to her, grabbing her hands to examine them. “Your fingers are bleeding and your wrist is swollen. Perhaps you should seek medical attention.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t from the fire.” She stared down at the ring of bruising at her wrist and reality set in. “Christoff! My bag! Someone stole my bag.”

  “You’d better report that to the police,” the fireman said as he turned to leave. “Unfortunately, criminals take advantage of the chaos.”

  Once they were alone, she told Christoff, “This happened before all hell broke loose. I was pushed to the ground. Whoever did it, ripped the bag from my wrist.” She held her chest.

  “Can’t. Breathe.”

  He scooped her up and rushed her to his car, placing her in the passenger seat.

  “Calm yourself. Money can be replaced.”

  She closed her eyes, reminding herself to breathe. Fifty thousand dollars down the drain. So close to getting everything she’d ever wanted in life and some bastard had stolen her golden ticket. How would Christoff react to the news?

  “Evangeline?”

  She opened her eyes and braced herself for his reaction as she reminded him, “It was your idea to bring the medallion with me.”

  His hands s
hot out and held her by the shoulders. “The medallion was in your purse?”

  “Where else did you expect me to carry it?” She cupped her breasts for effect. “This neckline plunges down to my waist, and the panties you made me wear are barely more than a triangle with strings attached.”

  He released her shoulders and stared into the night. “You are right. I allowed my attraction to you to get in the way of my obligations. I and I alone am to blame for this.” He turned his head, his eyes cold and emotionless as he broke her heart. “I’ll drive you back to your mobile home and see to it that all preparations are made to get you back on the road. I will locate the medallion myself. Our business is finished.”

  ****

  The journey home finished too soon. He wished that he could extend the trip, maybe even turn the car around and leave town, taking her with him. How could he have been so foolish? The medallion had been close enough to touch… Now, he’d let both the locket and the woman slip through his fingers.

  “I’ll make the necessary calls tonight and have your engine replaced in the morning.” He opened the passenger door and offered his hand. She declined, stepping from the vehicle unassisted.

  “So, that’s the end of it?” she asked. Her cheeks flushed with color as she breathed through her nose. “I don’t have what you want anymore, so I’m expendable?”

  Didn’t she understand? He was releasing her from her promise, she should be happy. “I thought you’d be anxious to leave.”

  “You promised me fifty thousand dollars. It’s not my fault the medallion was stolen. I lived up to my part of the bargain.”

  Ah. The money. Somehow, during the course of the evening, he’d allowed himself the luxury of believing they’d connected on some level. Fool. What he’d mistaken as affection in her eyes was greed. A gold digger working out how much money she could steal from him. She was a thief, he, a monster. They probably deserved each other.

  “Well, do you agree?”

  “What? Did you say something?”

  “Concentrate.” She balled up her fist and tapped on his forehead with her knuckles.

  He didn’t like it.

  “I offered to give you something else for the money. Something I think might be even more valuable.”

  His body betrayed him, warming to the notion she may be offering herself to him. She’d proven herself to be shameless and, damn it, he still wanted her. Wanted her enough to pay the fifty thousand if that was her price. He closed the distance between them.

  “Fifty thousand dollars is a large amount of money. Are you worth it?”

  “Will you get your mind out of the gutter.” She held him back with her outstretched arms. “I’m not offering to sell my body.”

  “More’s the pity.” He turned away, ashamed that he’d admitted his desire, given her the upper hand.

  “I opened the medallion.” She blurted out.

  He spun around to face her. “You what? When?”

  “This morning.” She dropped her chin, her eyes darting from her feet to the ground. “I thought … it looked like there might be something inside. I wanted to—”

  “You wanted to rob me.”

  “No, I—”

  “Liar.” Was there no end to her deceit? “You made a deal, the money for the locket. That included anything inside it.”

  Color flushed her cheeks and tears brimmed her bottom lashes. “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I understand all too well.” Fake tears would not sway him from his decision. “The original terms of the agreement remain. I will have whatever it is you took from the locket.” He reached for her, snagging her wrist. “I am a man of patience, but you have pushed me to my limit.” Her mouth gaped open, her eyes widening as he dragged her towards the cottage. “No more games.”

  “Where are you taking me?” she whimpered as they stormed past the living room towards his bedroom. “You made me a promise that you wouldn’t force me to do anything.”

  He ignored the rapid beating of her pulse. However, the heady perfume of her arousal proved harder to overlook. This pleased him. Despite her protests, she wanted this.

  “I wish to keep tonight’s entertainment private.” Slamming the bedroom door behind them, he sat on the edge of his bed. “The other rooms are fitted with security cameras. You promised me seductive dance, not my employers. I may be a vampire, however, I’m still a gentleman.”

  “Pfft.” She leaned back against the door and crossed her arms. “You are no gentleman.”

  “And you are no lady.” He mirrored her body language, crossing his arms across his chest and frowning. “Begin.”

  ****

  “I need to use the bathroom.” Why did his hungry expression send her blood pumping to all her erogenous zones? Can’t breathe.

  He pointed to an ensuite and she wasted no time rushing in, closing the door behind her. Leaning over the sink, she turned on the cold water and splashed her face and neck until some of the heat dissipated. When she looked up, the mirror reflected what she already suspected. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Her face, neck and breasts a deeper shade of tan. With a tissue she took from the box on the vanity, she patted beneath her breasts and under her arms. Why was she so nervous? She’d stripped for men many times before. Why was tonight so different? Because, this one will not be satisfied with a glimpse of lace and a suggestive dance, her reflection reminded her. This man would make sure he’d get his money’s worth. His pound of flesh. As much as it pained her to admit it, she wanted to give it to him, and more. Much more.

  “I’m waiting.”

  She swallowed down the anxiety, threw her shoulders back and opened the door. The mood of the room had changed, softened. Fragrant candles replaced the glare from the bright overhead lights. Soft music played from the iPod speaker on a bedside cabinet with an open bottle of sparkling white wine beside it. As she approached, he offered her a glass which she accepted without complaint, downing the entire contents in one gulp after noticing that the bedlinen had been turned back. She held out the glass for a refill and drank that as fast as the first.

  “Begin.” He leaned back on the bed, his shirt gaping just enough for her to notice the definition of his abs.

  She felt the sting as her top teeth bit into her bottom lip. Why did he have to look so hot?

  His frown warned her that he wouldn’t ask again. She began to sway to the music, hoping to find confidence in the beat of the slow ballad. It began to work. She closed her eyes, gyrating her hips in time to the music, losing herself in the moment as her hands molded the contours of her body.

  “Open your eyes.”

  She did as instructed, meeting his gaze with the same intensity. In that moment, she felt his compulsion, his control, his hands.

  “How are you doing that?” she gasped as the pressure of invisible fingers traced her spine.

  “Relax.”

  Her body obeyed his words immediately. Warmth spread over her skin beneath the touch of his mind control. Try as she might to hate that he’d tricked her, she couldn’t help but enjoy the sensation of ghostly hands fondling her flesh. Damn him.

  “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”

  “With my hands.”

  Memories of their earlier conversation flooded back. He’d promised to enjoy her with his eyes and mind. How was she to know what he could do with them? “This isn’t fair. You’re controlling me.”

  “Tit for tat, my dear. How does it feel to have someone manipulate you like a marionette? Now, take down your hair.”

  Her hands reached up to slide the clip holding her hair in the up-style, spilling dark curls down below her shoulders.

  “Good,” he groaned, as she leaned down and swung her hair in a circular pattern, flipping it back in a jerk as her body kept time with the music.

  Bending at the knees, she traced the outline of her right leg with her hands, from the top of her thigh, over her calf and down to her ankle. When she reached her sandal, she slipped it
off and did the same on the left leg. As she straightened, her hands reached behind her neck and loosened the bow holding the dress in place. His breath hitched, or was it hers, as she brought the straps forward, lowering the dress until her breasts were half exposed.

  He squirmed on the edge of the bed, leaning forward as she turned her back and let the dress fall to her waist.

  “If you tease me,” he warned as her nipples felt the tug of incorporeal fingers, “you will force me to inflict unimaginable pleasure.”

  “Unimaginable pleasure?” she repeated absently, as unseen hands lifted the weight of her breasts and squeezed. Dare she test him? After all, she did have a vivid imagination. Instead, she grasped the waistband of her dress, bent at the middle gifting him full view of her ample behind as she tugged the dress down over the lace thong, to her ankles and stepped out. Turning slowly, her hands covering her breasts, she kicked the dress at his head, using her telekinetic powers to ensure it wrapped around his face.

  Without a word, he removed the dress from his face, shaking his head as a grin spread across his face.

  “I did warn you.”

  ****

  So that’s how she wants to play? A wicked thought sprung to mind, and his cock approved with a shudder. I’m going to enjoy this.

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped open as he sent a wave of heat down her soft belly to the pleasure nub between her legs. He’d seen her tease the pawn shop owner by pretending she was about to pleasure herself. This time, she’d perform the act. He’d make sure of it. Applying light pressure with his mind, he convinced her to remove her hands from her breasts and drop the left by her side. He had other plans for the right hand. She stared down in shock as her own hand slid inside the front of the flimsy excuse for panties and began to stroke the swollen clit, using the slickness of her own arousal to pleasure herself. As her legs began to wobble, he caught her and lowered her onto the bed while she moaned through each blissful wave.

  Had he not been a man of his word, he would have torn the last scrap of fabric from her body and buried his face between her legs, but he’d given her his promise. No touching unless she asked. His plan had backfired. While she had been sated, he had Vesuvius in his trousers and it was threatening to blow.