by Asha Daniels
The words, the statement was almost shocking. Not only in the tone, but also the fact that this was the longest group of words he’d said to her. She caught the single glance, the way his eyes connected with hers and shivered. My God. She was attracted to this man. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it.”
He nodded and returned to glaring at the road.
She sensed such a heightened level of anger in the man. He exuded sensuality but there were complex layers. “Why are you doing this?”
“This? Protecting you?”
“Your job, I know. Why are you providing security detail to rich kids and assholes?” For the first time, she noticed a slight curl of his lips.
His grip tightened, and the hint of humanity disappeared. “This is what I’ve trained for my entire life.”
“Controlling. You have to be in control of everyone around you.”
A sneer curled on his lip. “Very much so.”
“Exactly what I crave.” Wringing her hands together, she hadn’t realized she’d muttered the words until she noticed his eyes, so intense, so demanding. Swallowing, she felt small, even demure alongside his massive body. The truck rumbled, the vibrations skittering in between her legs, her hips. She folded her arms, a chill sweeping through her, but the dazzling sensations had nothing to do with the temperature.
Cutter groaned, the tone dropping to a dangerously low point. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. “We have company.”
“What?” Her hands gripping the edge of her seat, she twisted to see behind them. There was so much traffic, vehicles traveling at over seventy miles per hour. How the hell could the man see anything?
“Hunker down and brace.”
Brace for what? She did as she was told, her entire body shaking. Suddenly, he zipped around several cars, exceeding the speed limit as he careened forward.
“Bastard. How in the fuck did he know where we were?” Cutter’s grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled and he leaned forward as he zigzagged, jetting around slower vehicles.
Jasmine closed her eyes, fear turning into terror, the realization that they could both lose their lives to some asshole planted firmly in the forefront of her mind. Her breath became scattered, her heart racing to the point she was close to hyperventilating. This was the only person who might be able to save her.
The sound of the truck picking up speed was followed by a jerk back and forth.
“God!” she screeched.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, pushing. “Just stay down. This might get hairy.”
Her blinking rapid, she became nauseous as the various cars and trucks, big rigs and dump trucks floated by. She heard the sound of the truck’s tires screeching as he maneuvered his way through the heavy traffic.
“We’re going off road.” His words were stated clearly, with no inflection and he jerked the truck to the right, the tires bouncing as he took an off ramp.
“Who is following us?”
“A dark SUV.”
The few words registered and as she tried to assimilate what he was saying, her mind reeled, envisioning the various vehicles owned by people she knew. None. She had no fucking idea.
Thump!
The truck hit an area on the road, skittering them to the right. Skidding for only a few seconds, Cutter regained control and raced forward, the engine roaring. He swung around several curves, riding the edges like they were on rails.
She could see his pensive face, anger lines crisscrossing every inch of his face, but there was no other emotion, no fear. Panting, she tried her best to control her breathing as she slid further down, her ass hitting the front mats. Lowering her head, she pressed her face against the seat, praying to some unknown God to keep them alive.
“Whatever happens. Stay inside. Do you understand me?” His command was direct, without bothering to look at her.
“Yes.”
His head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing. “I mean what I say. Period.”
She nodded, her lower lip trembling. What in the hell could happen?
The truck was jerked to a halt and without saying any other words, Cutter jumped out, slamming the door.
Counting to five, Jasmine dared to look up, to try and see what in the hell was going on. Her eyes opened wide and she crawled onto the seat, her mouth slack, her adrenaline rushing into every cell.
The man, her protector, was holding a gun, standing prone as if waiting for the person responsible to rear his ugly face. Leaning forward, she clawed the dashboard. This man. This gorgeous and dangerous creature sent to keep her safe took her breath away.
Dark. Dangerous. Dominating.
And she would do anything to surrender to him. No matter what he asked.
* * *
The wind whipped around him, creating a rushing sound, adding to the rumbling vibrations of the traffic whizzing by only fifty feet from where he stood. Cutter held the gun in both hands, shifting his gaze as he turned in a full circle. When he was unable to detect any vehicular sounds, he moved closer to the drop off, the craggy hillside leading straight to the torrent of vehicles. He knew the area well, having trained in a facility only a few miles away during his stint in the CIA. He knew every hiding place, everywhere to find a few minutes of solace. The alcove was relatively secured, hidden away from the secondary road leading to the middle of nowhere. From what he could tell, the SUV hadn’t followed.
While he remained uncertain that there was any cause for concern, he’d noticed the vehicle almost the moment they’d entered the interstate. Yes, the traffic was heavy this time of the day, but his sixth sense allowed his gut to slither to the very edge. He had yet to read the FBI agent’s notes, the few that were allowed outsourced to services such as what he provided.
But he didn’t need to read the report to decipher the obvious. Whoever was after Jasmine Rush was at minimum an acquaintance, but in his mind, someone she trusted.
And with her life.
They were the most dangerous adversaries, riding on emotion instead of technique. He lowered the gun and was prepared to walk back to the truck when he heard the sound of the passenger door opening. Inhaling, he held his breath as Jasmine walked closer, her footsteps tentative.
“Did you find him?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible.
“I told you to stay inside!”
She jumped and kicked her shoe into the grass. “I’m sorry. I thought everything was okay.”
Damn, she was infuriating. “Him? You’re certain the person who attacked you is a him?”
“I… No.”
“Never be certain of your enemy. That’s when they take the upper hand.” Cutter shoved the gun in his waistband. “We will wait for thirty minutes before we take off again.” Turning sharply, he walked past her, cognizant of her trembling body.
“What if he finds us. I mean, he or she?”
He hesitated, determining what to say. “Then someone will die.” After climbing back in the truck, he studied her, watching the way her hand continued to yank the strands of hair out of her eyes, the way her left leg kicked out against the weeds and grass. She was incredible but very much a handful. She would also need to learn how to obey.
The thought made him look away. Obedience was a requirement in all aspects of his life, but few women could understand. He remained cognizant of everything around him, prepared to yank her to safety within seconds. He hadn’t realized his finger was tapping nervously against the steering wheel until he heard the passenger door open.
After a few seconds, he leaned over, his fingers wrenching her chin.
“Ouch! What are you doing?” she yelped, her eyes opening wide.
“What did I tell you at the house? You are to follow my rules without question.” His voice was low, huskier than normal and he pushed back the anger. She didn’t deserve his wrath.
At least not now.
“Yes. I’m… I’m sorry.” Her voice was small.
“Yes?”
Jasmine’
s lips pursed, a nervous tic appearing in the corner of her mouth. “Yes, sir.”
“If you disobey me again, there will be consequences. Do. You. Understand?”
She glared at him defiantly at first, her eyes flashing, her breath sounds skipped. Then an understanding filtered into her vision, creating a haze over her vibrant purple irises. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Jesus Christ. Letting her go, he slumped against the seat. As they waited out the thirty minutes, they both remained quiet, the tension hovering, clamping around him like a steel vice. His chest was tight, forcing him to breathe in short and even pants. This woman was his aphrodisiac, his krypton, and perhaps could be his very demise.
And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that one day, she would succumb to his every need, able to unravel the mask woven tightly around her body and soul. On that day, on the very day she learned to surrender, she would belong to him.
Chapter 3
Consequences.
“Come here,” the masculine voice demanded. Darkness surrounded him, hovering over his body as if a blanket from Hell.
“Why?” She could only make out a single finger in the swirling shadows, beckoning, requiring her presence. A cold chill swept across her face, slithering into her arms and legs, creating goosebumps and tingles, until she could no longer feel her extremities.
“Because you will be punished!”
The moment he laughed, his voice guttural and laced with evil, echoes pounded throughout the room, bouncing off the stone walls. She slapped her hands over her ears, praying for the cackling to stop. She opened her mouth to scream yet there were no sounds other than a strangled wheeze.
“Punished! You deserve to understand my power.”
Only when she was able to look in the direction of the booming voice and at the whip firmly held in his hands was she able to cry.
“Oh!” Jasmine jerked, panting as she tried to figure out where she was. The dream, the ugly nightmare had seemed so real. Darkness surrounded her with only a glimmer of neon blue.
“You were sleeping.”
Who was talking? Shrinking back, she tried to shift but something was holding her down. A whimper escaped her mouth. She slapped out her hand. “Where am I?”
“Relax. We’re almost there.”
“I can’t relax. There’s some jerkoff out there.” The rumble of the engine was soothing, the dim humming sound lulling her into consciousness. She gave a quick glance out the window and could swear there was snow on the ground. The bodyguard. The attack. Yes, she remembered every ugly detail.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “There is.”
She inhaled and caught a whiff of his cologne. A bodyguard wearing exotic aftershave? “I’m hungry.”
“We should have food. I don’t want to stop again.”
“How long until we get there?”
“Ten minutes.”
Huffing, she shook her head. “And I have a headache.” Damn, if she didn’t think she heard a slight chuckle, which infuriated her. She bit back several nasty retorts. “Don’t judge me.”
“I don’t know you at all, Ms. Rush.”
“Jasmine. Call me Jasmine.”
He exhaled again, his eyes searching the road.
They certainly weren’t going to have a decent conversation. “Then tell me this. Why does he want to kill me?” Jasmine waved her hand. “Yeah, I know. Could be a woman. Whatever.”
“I’m not certain. That’s something you need to ask yourself.”
“I have no idea. I don’t have any enemies,” she retorted, already weary of the entire situation.
“Just by the fact that you’re a celebrity means that you’re a target,” Cutter offered.
“There are thousands of celebrities in this world. Why can’t he go pick on someone else?” She clenched her fist. There was no sense in whining, but the realization had settled in. She was nothing more than a prisoner because she sang in a damn band.
Cutter exhaled slowly. “Stalkers are obsessive. They don’t need a reason to fixate on the one they desire. They simply must have and will go to all lengths to do so. Those who have a psychotic bent move into a heightened level of violence.”
“Like the freak terrorizing me.”
“Possibly.”
“A man of few words,” Jasmine mumbled. When he didn’t react in any manner, she pushed her hands against the seat, sitting upright and slowly turning her head. Even in the darkness, she was able to catch a glimpse of his pensive face. Always on duty. Always concerned. “Where are we going?”
“To a safe house.”
The area surrounding the truck was almost pitch black, only the headlights illuminating what appeared to be a two-lane road. Trees limbs were hanging low, tips scraping against the top of the vehicle. There was snow piled against the curbs, even some crystalized on the pine trees. Her ears were clogged and as she yawned and stretched her neck, she realized they must be in the mountains. “But where? West Virginia? Pennsylvania?”
Cutter looked over. “Virginia.”
“Then why won’t you tell me where?”
“Outside of Charlottesville.”
“God damn it! Why won’t you talk to me? Why don’t you tell me what your great plans are? Is it too much of a bother to explain who you are or what’s going to happen or even what you can expect?”
Glancing in the rearview mirror, he sniffed and made a sharp turn.
“Damn you! I’m going to be stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere with a freaking statue. That’s not acceptable.”
“And your behavior is not acceptable by any means. I realize you’re frightened, feeling vulnerable and that I can understand. The childish behavior. No. We will get along just fine as long as you learn your place.”
“My place?” She was tingling, her pussy clenching. This was ridiculous. “No one talks to me that way.” There was no need to catch his expression or even his body language. The man had certainly noticed her father’s domineering behavior.
After making another turn, he slowed down and hung over the steering wheel.
What was he searching for, the boogeyman? With the headlights on high, the wide beam swung across an opening in the encroaching forest, highlighting a cabin.
“Here? You have to be kidding me? Is there running water?”
Cutter shot her a single guarded look “We’ll have everything we need. Mr. Gammon made certain.”
She had to admit, she was curious as to what kind of safe house had been deemed acceptable. The closer they came, the more details she could see. There was a front porch, complete with a swing and at least there was a fireplace. She’d lived in Virginia long enough to know the weather in the mountains this time of year was frigid as well as unpredictable. She’d brought a single coat. What? Had she anticipated the beach?
He pulled the truck beside the house, nestling the Ram in a bank of trees. Cutting the engine and turning off the lights, he pulled the keys and unfastened his seatbelt. “Stay right here and lock the doors until I return.”
There was nothing for her to say. Pitched into complete blackness, she was shivering more than she had been before.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.” The word ‘sir’ he wasn’t going to hear again. He certainly hadn’t earned her respect. When he jumped out of the truck without saying a word, she growled. How in the hell did he know where he was going? She twisted, trying to watch his approach to the house. The sound of his boots crunching against the crusted snow was eerie. After two or three seconds, she slapped her hand on the doorframe, attempting to find the lock button. When she was successful, she leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes.
This was insane. Who would want to hurt her? Had to be a fan. The emails weren’t specific in the beginning. The words were refreshing, even kind and she’d written him, her or it back. Now, she knew she must have opened a door, allowing the pervert a way in, as if accepting the advances. Well, she’d certainly learned her lesson.
The wind was shrill, whipping against the truck and the noises were akin to a ‘B’ rated movie. She licked her lips and leaned forward.
Whap!
“Shit!”
The tree limb slapped against the hood again then broke off, tumbling down and over the right fender. Swallowing, she turned and shifted, trying desperately to find him. How long had it been? Ten minutes? Jesus Christ. What if the asshole had already found them and killed Cutter? She wasn’t even certain she could call him by his first name. Why was he so cold, so unfeeling? Couldn’t he tell that she was out of sorts, terrified?
Okay, so this was almost like an adventure, but not one she’d been ready to take. Up until the last two years, her life had been protected. No, her life had been an absolute prison. Who the hell did she think she was kidding? A short laugh erupted from her mouth and she plastered her face near the passenger glass, straining to see anything.
Bam! Bam!
“No!” The scream was high pitched, and she threw her body against the passenger door. When a light was flashed just inside then on Cutter’s face, she groaned and hit the unlock button.
Cutter gave her a stern look when he opened the door. “Come on. Let’s get the luggage. Everything is as expected.”
“Should I say good or what?”
“Just come on.” He yanked most of the bags from behind the seat.
Her fingers fumbling, she managed to open the door and ease onto the ground. Why hadn’t the man warned her they’d be walking in snow? She had a single pair of low shoes with her and nothing that would allow her to trudge through horrific weather conditions. She grabbed her suitcase and felt her way around the truck.
“Come on. We need to get inside. Now.”