Bound (Dark Horse #1)

by J. S. Scott

  “Hell, yeah,” he answered in a smooth, sexy baritone. “I can see your tits now. Did you wear that top to torture me?”

  “Behave,” I warned him, smacking his bicep jokingly. I hadn’t realized I’d be cutting hair when I’d dressed in a pair of jeans and a low-cut cotton shirt this morning. There was enough women’s clothing in the closet to prove that Kane’s uncle hadn’t been completely devoid of female company. Luckily, I was close to the same size as crazy Uncle Jack’s girlfriend or lover. “I think we can take a break from sex. I’m starting to feel the effects every time I take a step.”

  I was teasing him about his sex drive, but I was equally eager, and so turned on every time he touched me that I needed him to fuck me. However, I was completely serious about not being able to walk without some damn sore muscles screaming at me—even though it only reminded me of all the things he’d done to me, which in turn only made me want him more. It was a damn vicious circle—not that I was complaining when he kept giving me mind-blowing orgasms.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he answered, sounding irritated.

  “Would you have stopped?” I asked inquisitively. Not that I would have let him get away once I’d gotten worked up, but I was curious as to what his response would be.

  “I would have tried,” he said remorsefully. “I never want to hurt you, Anna.”

  He sounded so contrite that I immediately replied, “I wasn’t exactly unwilling.”

  “You were in the beginning. I’m sorry for being such a prick.”

  His voice was hoarse and sincere, and I knew what he really meant was he was concerned that he’d gotten me involved in what could be a dangerous situation.

  “I don’t regret it,” I confessed.

  Strangely enough, I meant those words. After all was said and done, he’d had reason to take me prisoner, and now that I understood his motivation, I could accept his actions.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted to go back to prison, either,” I told him softly as I removed the sheet from his body that I’d been using as a cape to catch the hair.

  “I like having you here with me,” he admitted as he wrapped a strong arm around my waist and made me drop the rolled up sheet. “But it was pretty fucking selfish of me to take you down with me.”

  I straddled him, ignoring my complaining thigh muscles. I trusted him to hold me steady as I brushed the stray hairs from his shoulders. There was a sheet underneath the chair, too, so I’d shake them out and wash them later.

  As my fingers brushed over his hot, bare skin, I felt the almost immediate desire to be closer. Dressed only in a pair of jeans, the abundance of Kane’s bare skin beckoned me, and I had to stop myself from running my hands all over his muscular chest and shoulders.

  “It was fear,” I replied gently. “I understand how it feels to be willing to do anything to escape. I gave up my whole life just to be safe. It was selfish of me not to go up to the mountains to look for my parents during the summer. I knew better than anyone where they might be. But I couldn’t do it.”

  “You gave the search team as much information as possible,” Kane replied, leaping to defend my actions.

  “But my fear kept me from joining the recovery effort myself,” I answered, wrapping my arms around his neck as I looked directly into his gorgeous, hazel-eyed stare. I ached with longing as I felt his hand stroke up and down my back.

  “You shouldn’t have to go look for your own parents’ bodies,” he insisted. “You had to be pretty fucking traumatized from being buried alive.”

  “You had to be pretty fucking traumatized from people trying to kill you in prison,” I retorted as I raised a brow in question, turning his words back to his own situation.

  His expression grew lighter, and he grinned at me. “Smartass,” he said, giving me a smack on the rear in retaliation.

  “I’m just trying to make you realize that I really do understand. Yeah, I was pissed. And I was pretty scared when I realized who you were. You were a suspect in a brutal murder. And the evidence was pretty strong.”

  “So scared you tried to get away in a near-suicidal escape,” he reminded me, just in case I’d forgotten.

  “I’m not trying to get away now.” And with his scruffy beard now gone, he looked even sexier than before, and it only stoked my need for him all the more. I ran my fingers through his hair, sighing as I realized I had no desire to escape Kane anymore. In fact, I wanted him as close as he could be.

  Being able to share my emotions with him had been therapeutic. I was no longer afraid of being buried or being in confining places. Now my fear was more about him, and Gavin’s ability to find out who really killed the woman who had been with Kane the night of her murder.

  “Now that’s something I don’t understand,” he mused.

  “What?” I asked curiously, absently noting that he had no desire to move now that I was where he wanted me.

  “You not wanting to escape. You know everything about me, and you’re still with me willingly now,” he answered coarsely.

  Yes, I knew a lot of his secrets, but I’d bet my diner that I didn’t know them all. “You’re good in bed. That can make up for a lot of things,” I bantered, wanting to make him smile.

  He was grinning again. “I’m good anyplace, Cupcake,” he retorted arrogantly.

  I rolled my eyes, but secretly had to acknowledge that he was right. “Then show me.”

  “Nope. I don’t think I will. I’m going to let your body recover.” He grew more somber as he added, “Don’t ever not tell me when you’re hurting again.”

  I ignored his bossiness since I knew he was only being that way because he was worried. “I’m just a little sore. It’s no big deal.”

  “Then I have to give you time to heal.”

  “What if I don’t want time?” Thinking about it, I was almost sorry I’d told him. There was nothing I wanted more than to get closer to him. Really close. Being with Kane was worth a little bit of discomfort in exchange for the intense pleasure it would bring.

  “Too bad. As long as you’re in pain, I’m not pulling my dick out of my pants.”

  He didn’t have to do it. “I’d be happy to take over that job.” My lips slipped into a teasing smile as I ran an exploring palm over his chest and nearly groaned from the feel of his heated skin over rock-hard muscle. I could not get enough of this man, and being this close to him ruled my instincts.

  He grasped my roaming hand quickly. “Don’t start, Anna. If you do, I’m not sure I can stop.”

  Kane gently pushed me off his lap, steadying me as I stood. “Then I suppose I should get started on dinner.” Honestly, I’d much rather skip eating and taste him instead. But I knew he wasn’t persuadable at the moment. The fact that he was trying to spare me pain made my heart clench.

  I sighed, knowing I was going to have to get my mind on something else for a while.

  It was getting more and more challenging to be able to cook something decent with the supplies we had. The fresh food was gone, so I was working with our canned goods and the rations left by an elderly prepper who was ready for the apocalypse.

  “Kiss me first,” Kane countered bossily.

  I ignored him and started rolling the sheets together with the hair trapped inside.

  “Kiss me before you go,” he repeated.

  “No,” I retorted stubbornly.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t feel like it.” I was such a liar, and I couldn’t stop being disagreeable. I was craving the intimacy with him.

  It didn’t take long for Kane to push the issue. He cornered me, then pushed me back against the wall for a blistering embrace.

  I squealed as he pinned me against the wall, then proceeded to rob me of all my sanity.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kane

  Having boxed Anna in against the wall, I tilted he
r chin up so she’d have to face me, my need for her consuming my body. Yet something between us shifted…changed. The moment went from playful to suddenly serious—almost as if whether she kissed me or not would somehow seal our fate. “Kiss me, Anna. Please don’t make me ask again…”

  Her blue eyes searched my face as if trying to figure out what exactly had changed between us in that very moment. Because it suddenly felt like this was no longer a game or just a bit of teasing, but rather an admission of…what exactly, I didn’t know.

  And yet, I did know in my heart—even if I didn’t know if I could admit it to myself.

  It was an admission of love…of what we meant to each other.

  My pulse kicked up as I silently pleaded with her to kiss me…to show me that I wasn’t just imagining what was between us, to show me that this was real.

  She slipped her small hands up my chest and around my neck, going up unto her toes to nuzzle me, her voluptuous curves pressing against my body as she teasingly brushed her lips against mine in a tease of a kiss before coming back for another pass and doing a more thorough job of it.

  Her tongue darted against mine, my heart swelling inside my chest as I pulled her into my arms and deepened our kiss with an unrestrained passion, leaving me to grapple with the realization of just how much Anna meant to me.

  And though her kisses slowed to a stop, she didn’t pull away, staying there in my arms, our heads bent together as my heart hammered inside my chest. “Kane…”

  It was clear she felt the shift between us, too. Yet there was nothing more to really say, given our current circumstances. “Come on, Cupcake, feed me before I find something else to feast on.”

  “If you think that sort of comment is going to get you fed, then you may want to rethink your strategy.” Her pink lips kicked up in a sultry smile that had her eyes sparkling with mischief, my cock aching to have her once more—which just wouldn’t do. I needed to get my mind out of the fucking gutter until she wasn’t sore. I didn’t wonder that she was hurting. When we fucked, I was completely unable to do it slow and easy. Not with her. Not with Anna.

  “Such a naughty little tease.” I turned her around and slapped her ass, loving her playful laugh and the sultry look she tossed me over her shoulder. “Actually…maybe I should cook for you. Give you a break from the kitchen. Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m not a modern man.”

  She actually laughed at me—making me determined to prove to her that I was fully capable of providing her with a half decent meal. “I’m happy to cook, you know—and given that there’s not a whole lot left that isn’t canned or dehydrated, it’s going to take a bit of skill.”

  “Ye of little faith, Cupcake.” I kissed the tip of her nose and got to work raiding the cabinets, my mind racing through different flavor combinations I’d tasted in the past at the five-star restaurants I’d dined at. Though I somehow doubted any of those chefs had started with these sorts of ingredients. This was feeling like one of those cooking shows, where the contestants have to whip a gourmet meal with ingredients that were picked at random and thrown into a box with no regard for how they’d come together.

  I grabbed a bag of pasta, figuring it’d be hard to screw that up, then hunted down ingredients that might come together and resemble a sauce. I laid out my ingredients on the nearby counter, and got to work under Anna’s watchful eye as she sat perched at the kitchen island.

  Once I got a pot of water on the stove, I turned to my sauce ingredients, dumping a can of tomatoes into a saucepan, then adding some chopped up beef jerky to the mix, thinking it might eventually resemble a Bolognese when all was said and done. And yet at the first sight of me adding jerky to my sauce, I practically heard Anna gasp in shock, though she did her best to cover it up, her eyes boring a hole into my back.

  I flashed her a sly smile, my eyes narrowing as I shot her a look. “Something you want to say, Chef Cupcake?”

  “Nope. Not a word.” Her voice was laced with humor, clearly doing her best to bite her tongue.

  “That’s what I thought.” I turned back to the stove and dropped the pasta into the boiling water, remembering to add a good dose of salt. “See? I even salted the water.”

  This time, she did laugh as she bowed her head at me. “And I’m suitably impressed.”

  With my confidence bolstered, I went through the spice cabinet, sprinkling and adding what I thought might work, tasting it as I went, and trying to figure out how the hell to get my sauce more palatable. Because I might be talking a good game, but the truth was my sauce sucked and I didn’t have a clue as to how in the hell to fix it—not that I’d tell her that, on the off chance I managed to pull off a miracle before having to serve it to her.

  I played with the spices some more, hoping something would get rid of the sour and bitter taste of canned tomatoes, wondering if it would get better if I let it simmer down—or if I’d end up concentrating on everything that was wrong with it, and making matters worse.

  “You need a hand?” Anna’s offer was far too tempting, and yet I refused to admit defeat.

  “Nah…I’ve got it all under control. Don’t you go worrying that pretty little head of yours.” Abandoning my post, I leaned across the counter and stole a kiss from her sweet ruby lips. “Though if you’d like to grab us a bottle of wine, I think there are still a few decent bottles left.”

  “Consider it done.” She hopped off the stool and headed to the massive pantry, returning before long with a bottle of red, uncorking it and setting it aside to breathe.

  Wishing for some sort of Hail Mary, I grabbed a bit of onion powder and hoped for the best. Yet as I drained the pasta—which I somehow managed not to over or under cook—I knew that there was little more I could do with the sauce. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving.” She grabbed a couple of wine glasses and poured us a glass, setting them down at the dining room table as I served up our meal with a sense of impending doom.

  We sat down across from each other, though I couldn’t bear to look as she started eating, focusing instead on my own meal, and doing my best to ignore all that was wrong with it.

  “It’s…good.” She put another forkful into her mouth, managing a smile that was unlike anything else I’d ever seen.

  “Though you’re awfully sweet, you’re a horrible liar.” We both burst out laughing, the tension of our bad meal gone. “It’s a good thing we have a whole bottle of wine to wash it down with.”

  “Actually, it’s not that bad. It really just needs a few tweaks. May I?” When I nodded, she got up and grabbed our plates, setting them aside as she got to work tweaking my sauce. “Can you hand me the bottle of wine?”

  “Sure.” I passed it over, and she splashed some in before grabbing the sugar bowl and sprinkling it into the sauce.

  “The jerky actually rehydrated quite well, and gave the sauce plenty of depth. But you were working with canned tomatoes that were sour and didn’t have a chance to cook down. The sugar is a quick fix to cut down on the acidity when all else fails.” She tasted the sauce, made some final adjustments, then dumped our dinners into the mix before serving it back up. “There. Hopefully that’s a bit better.”

  We sat back down and, as I took the first bite, I couldn’t believe how much better it tasted. “Fucking hell, woman…you’re a miracle worker.”

  “Honestly, it didn’t need a whole lot. Just a few tweaks.” When she smiled at me this time, it reached her eyes, and I swear, I felt my heart hitch.

  And that meant one thing—I was so fucking doomed, and on one hell of a slippery slope.

  CHAPTER 20

  Anna

  A domesticated Kane was a dangerous thing.

  Not that I thought he could ever be completely tamed. He’d always be a little edgy, but it was just one of the many different facets of his personality that made him so hard to resist.

  As I w
atched him help me clean up the dishes from our interesting dinner, I couldn’t help but think we’d make a great team. Not that I thought that would ever happen, but he was a fascinating companion, not to mention an amazing lover.

  I was still trying to figure out what had happened between us earlier when he’d asked me to kiss him. Something had changed. The tension in the air around us had been almost palpable until I couldn’t stop myself from complying with his demand. What we’d shared had been much more than just a kiss, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out exactly what had happened between us.

  “Did I load the dishwasher okay? We never had one growing up.” Kane asked as he turned to me, and caught me staring at his ass.

  It was a sight I couldn’t resist locking my eyes on.

  He gave me a knowing grin, and I averted my eyes from the way his jeans molded his perfect ass and looked at his face.

  “Problem?” he asked playfully.

  “No problem at all. It’s perfect,” I answered with a sigh.

  “Are we talking about how I loaded the dishes?” he asked with a touch of arrogance.

  He knew damn well where my attention had been focused. “Of course. Excellent job,” I replied, not even glancing at the machine.

  Hell, for all I knew, he’d just dumped everything inside the dishwasher in a heap. I hadn’t been watching how he’d been doing the dishes; I’d been staring at him, and he knew it.

  I helped him finish up, but he was still grinning from ear-to-ear when the ping of an incoming text sounded on his phone. He stepped aside and dug into his pocket to pull out his cell, then frowned at it for a minute before he sent a quick text out.

  “Gavin’s on his way here,” Kane shared in a troubled voice.

  “Do you think he found the murderer?” I asked excitedly, hoping that Kane’s partner had finally been able to clear him of the murder charges.

  It occurred to me that if Gavin had good news, I might never see Kane again, but I forced that thought out of mind almost immediately. Proving Kane’s innocence was our priority right now. And I wanted that for him more than I feared not seeing him again.