RidingtheWaves

by Jennifer LaRose

  I’m not dead? A faint sawing sound vibrated through her ears. Seconds later, her right arm was gently placed at her side. It felt so wonderful she groaned.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Brent warned. “She’s in enough pain.”

  “I’m trying not to, but any movement is going to hurt a little. Her shoulders have to be pretty stiff by now,” Brody replied, slipping the knife through the opposite rope.

  Relief overwhelmed her to tears. They trickled from the corners and slid along her temples into her hair.

  “You’re hurting her,” Brent shouted. The cutting noise immediately stopped. “Give me that God damn knife.”

  “Sweetheart, will you please wake up before the big guy pulverizes me? You know how I feel about that.”

  Oh Brody, can’t you see I’m trying? She gave her lids a heck of a fight, but when they refused to open, she tried raising her hand to help. It briefly lifted then dropped back on the bed.

  The sawing noise restarted then the tension of the restraint faded away. Carefully Brent gathered her hand in his large palm and guided her arm comfortably to her waist. “I’m sorry. So sorry, baby.”

  Don’t be sorry. You didn’t hurt me.

  A moment later, both ankle bindings snapped and her legs were slowly brought together. A blanket or something large draped over her body. Ah, being free and warm felt like a miracle.

  “Brody, take this and go free the other three women.”

  Three women?

  Summoning all of her strength, Annalee squeezed his fingers.

  “Can you hear me, Annalee?”

  Again she squeezed.

  “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  She strained and tugged and pried, trying to lift her lids, then finally they slinked open. Brent squatted on one side of the bed and Brody was limping toward the stairs. Limping?

  “You don’t know how scared…” Brent lifted her fingers to his lips as tears filled his eyes. “My God.”

  Seeing his teary gaze prompted her to cry again. As the tears dribbled along her temples, he leaned forward and kissed each droplet away.

  His gaze expressed so much emotion, it sobered her somewhat.

  Slowly he glanced over his shoulder. She followed his gaze to Rashand and the other guy, both lying unconscious on the floor.

  “Motherfuckers,” Brent growled. He stood and strode across the room, each step long and evenly paced. He glared at both men then looked back at Annalee. While his gaze lingered on her battered wrists and the blood seeping through the sheet, his features hardened and jaw twitched. After taking one last look into her eyes, he turned and stomped on each one’s head.

  Heavy footsteps stampeded down the stairs and stopped abruptly just inside the room. Sterns and two police officers glanced at the unconscious bodies at their feet. “I see you have things under control down here, Delaney,” Sterns said. “How’s she doing?”

  “She needs a doctor.”

  “We’ve got multiple ambulances en route.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Annalee sat up on Brent’s lap, patting a yawn, and stretched her shoulders. “Have you heard from Brody yet?”

  “He called while you were asleep. They had an unexpected delay, but he’s home.”

  “How’s his ankle?”

  “He didn’t say.” He’d kept it wrapped in an ace bandage, but he should’ve gotten it x-rayed the night it’d happened. It might’ve been fractured, but he refused to visit a doctor unless the pain worsened. “He said some doll on the plane let him use her lap as a prop.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  Brent arched his brows. “Yes, he would.”

  She giggled and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He grazed his thumb over the small bruise on her cheek. “The doctor told you not to get the stitches wet.”

  “For at least three days. Today’s the third.”

  Yeah, he did say three. “I’ll grab a towel from the dryer and be there in a minute to help.”

  “I don’t need assistance,” she said while she inched off his lap, paused to wince then slowly straightened, “but if you’d like to join me, the door will be open. Bring two towels.”

  He watched her grab her cell phone off the coffee table and amble down the hallway. She’d rolled her sweatpants up to her knees to keep them from brushing against the bandages around her ankles.

  For the past three days he’d sat on the couch holding her. And when not, he’d waited on Brody hand and foot.

  It’d be a cold day in hell before he’d let her out of his sight. Rashand hadn’t been arrested yet. The fucker and his sidekick were still in the hospital in drug-induced comas, waiting for the swelling in their brains to shrink. An eye for an eye. Brent should’ve kicked them harder and smashed in their skulls.

  When he’d busted into that house and saw Annalee unconscious and bleeding in the basement, he wanted their blood. If Brody hadn’t pulled him off Rashand, the weasel would be grub food right now, not breathing oxygen from a machine. Unfortunately the doctor said they’d survive. So private security was hired to guard their rooms until they were healthy enough to be placed under arrest.

  Christ, Annalee still couldn’t stand upright without slightly hunching forward for a moment first because of the punch she’d taken to her belly. What kind of man did that to a woman? A man wouldn’t, but a pussy-assed control freak who needed to display power on someone smaller than himself would. Well, the bastard needed to send Brody a thank you for saving my ass card. Brent couldn’t stop laying blows to the weasel’s body. And he’d expelled every breath of fear he’d inhaled that day on the son of a bitch’s face with his fist. Brent left him with an unrecognizable mug, shattered jaw and a few teeth. He’d mangled two of his own knuckles, but still, it didn’t seem enough.

  No beating was too severe for a man who hurt his woman.

  As he walked into the laundry room, Morton dashed past his feet and took a flying leap into the litter box. Brent chuckled and shook his head. He’d better get used to the shy-turned-psycho kitty if he planned on spending the rest of his life with Annalee. There wasn’t any other place he wanted to be. He’d give things another week to settle down and then he’d talk to Whiltby about resigning one position for another. If he wasn’t needed in accounting, he’d stack shelves in the warehouse or pack supplies. Whiltby was an understanding man. He’d already been made aware of Annalee’s condition, and since it originally evolved from piracy involving his cargo, he’d do whatever necessary to make things right.

  Brent’s days of protecting ships were over. As much as he loved riding the waves, he loved Annalee more, and he’d rather cut out his own guts than subject her to that type of danger ever again. Losing her over his own stupidity was one thing, but losing her to something indirectly related to him and avoidable was unacceptable.

  He removed two towels from the dryer, draped them over his shoulder and headed down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he heard Annalee talking. Just as he entered the room, she laid her phone on the counter. The shower was running but she sat on the toilet lid, using it as a chair. “Is everything okay, baby?”

  She looked at him with tears in her eyes and a phony smile. “I called my mom. Hearing her voice always makes me feel better.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  She shook her head. “She sounds really good. In a way I think she’s relieved my grandma passed. She’s always said she couldn’t bear to watch her dwindle away.” She rubbed her hands along her thighs. “She wants to meet the man who saved her little girl though.”

  He grinned. And he wouldn’t mind meeting the parents who raised such a wonderful woman, who overpowered his heart, stole his love and brought his six-foot-six body barreling to its knees. “You’ve got some time off. Tell me when you’d like to go.”

  “That depends on your schedule. There’s a shipment to Thailand leaving the day after tomorrow. Will you be escorting it across the sea?”r />
  He laid the towels over the shower doors, squatted in between her knees and took hold of both of her hands. “No,” he said, studying her eyes. Damn, they were passionate and so full of life. “I won’t be rescuing or escorting ships anymore, Annalee. I’m staying off the waters.”

  Her face lit up. “You are?”

  He smiled. “You said you want to have my babies and a husband who comes home every night. Well, I’ll be here every single night for the rest of my life if you’ll have me.”

  “You’re willing to give that up for me?”

  “No, I’m not willing to give it up for you. I am giving it up for you.”

  “I don’t want you to do that. What if you regret it later on?”

  “There will never be any regrets. I can’t explain how I felt when you were abducted by Rashand. There are no words.” None. Absolutely none, to describe the fear he’d experienced. “You’ve saved me three times, Annalee.” He glared at the wrapped gauze on her wrists. Gently he brought her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “The instant I saw you bleeding and strapped to that bed, my life changed.”

  “Brent, I—”

  “Shhh.” He leaned forward and kissed her briefly before placing his forehead against hers.

  “But what are you going to do?”

  “Talk to Whiltby about a local job.”

  “In accounting?” An ear-to-ear smile brightened her face. “You’re not cutting your hair. And you’ll stay away from Willow. I just may have to kill her if she makes a move on you.”

  “Anything you want, Annalee.” She didn’t have to worry about him taking a second look at any other woman. “Just think about whether or not you want to spend the rest of your life with me, since you’ve avoided the subject a minute ago.”

  She removed her hands from his and laid her soft palms on his cheeks. “You know I do.”

  “Then say it.”

  “Then ask.”

  Smiling, he shook his head against hers. “Baby,” he said, and sat back on his haunches. “I love you. I adore you.” He lifted her fingers to his heart. “I want to give you lots of babies, and I want to hold you in my arms until my dying breath. Will you share your life with me by becoming my wife?”

  “Brent, are you seriously proposing to me on a toilet seat?”

  He smirked and glanced between her thighs at the furry burgundy lid. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Wow, he’d botched that up. The toilet wasn’t a very romantic place. Hell, who said location was important, when it was the words that counted? The least he could do was put her in a situation she’d enjoy while asking her to become his missus.

  Smirking, he stood, helped her to her feet and cautiously backed her into the wall. Carefully, to avoid contact to her wrists, he took her hands in his and gently placed them above her head. “Now, as I was saying…” he lowered his face and nipped her earlobe. “Annalee,” he breathed into her hair, “if I promise to tie you to the bed,” he padded his lips to her cheek, “enact your fantasies,” he moved his lips to her mouth briefly, “and re-steal your virginity every chance I get,” he rubbed noses, “will you marry me?”

  “Mmm,” she purred, “I’m not sure.”

  He lowered an arm, slid it beneath her sweatshirt and very delicately cupped her breast. “If I promise to turn you on,” he lightly fondled the soft mound, “until you don’t know,” he squeezed her nipple, “whether you’re dead or alive,” he slightly twisted the hardened bud, “will you say yes?”

  “I’m,” she let out a sigh, “still thinking.”

  Brushing fingertips down her belly, he slid them beneath her waistband, into her pants, and rested his thumb on her clitoris. Her hips jutted forward slightly. “And if I promise,” he rotated his thumb, “to fuck your pussy,” he slipped a finger deep inside her vagina, “while fucking your ass with a vibrator,” he added a second finger, “will you—”

  “Yes,” she squealed, spreading her legs. “Yes.”

  He lowered his face and kissed her passionately. While slipping his tongue between her teeth, he removed his hand from the center of her thighs and placed it around her back. With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  She propped her head against the wall, closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “If you leave me like this, I’m going to reconsider.”

  “And if you reconsider,” he lifted her chin, which forced her lids open. He grinned when he had her full attention. “I’m going to leave you in that state permanently.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He arched his brows. “No?” He dropped his hands at his sides and turned to leave, but she quickly grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him back. “I didn’t think so,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Not so fast, big guy.” She crossed her arms, leaned back into the wall and smiled one cocky-assed smile. “I’ve got a dildo in my bedroom and a pulsating showerhead. I can live without you.”

  She had him there. With that vision alone, his balls caught on fire. “Show me.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “You’ve already seen them.”

  “Yes I have.” He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer, reducing the gap between them to ten inches. “Now show me what you do with them.”

  “I’ve…you,” she stuttered, “have seen that too.”

  “The dildo.” He planted his hands on the wall above her head and lowered his head. “Get in the shower, Annalee.”

  “I think…you know, my stitches…if I…the doctor said—”

  Oh how he loved watching her squirm. Despite her jittery reluctance, he saw a fire dancing in her eyes. Once he’d gotten her over this hurdle, she’d be more than willing to appease him and herself. “It’s been three days, you’ve said it yourself. Shower. Now.”

  “I’m really tired all of a sudden.” She faked a yawn and stretched her arms out at her sides. “I think I’ll take a quick nap.”

  His insides exploded in laughter, but he wouldn’t dare expose it to her. She’d brought this on, and if there’s one thing she should’ve learned by now, she couldn’t hand him a visual without being expected to enact it. “Easy or hard? You choose.”

  “Oh you’re impossible sometimes.” She stomped her foot, which he’d never seen her do before.

  It brought on more silent laughter. He folded his lips to prevent an outburst and arched a brow. “Really, Annalee?”

  “Just shut up and take off my clothes.”

  “Uh, no. You’re going to do that too.”

  She almost stomped her foot again but stopped short. “You’re just a big bully.” She rolled her shirt upward, off her arms, and tossed it on the floor. “One day you’re going to run into a guy twice your size,” she said, stretching the waistband over the bandages on her hip. Carefully she removed her pants and panties. “And I hope he bends you over his lap and fucks you up the ass with a zucchini.”

  His guts were busting apart. He was getting very close to losing it. “Is that something else you want to try, Annalee?”

  “Yes. My lap, your ass.” While she climbed into the shower, he smacked her butt, which earned him an over-the-shoulder glare. “Don’t push it, Delaney.”

  He haphazardly undressed. It was best to give her time to work on building her nerve. When he finally climbed in behind her, she turned in his direction. The water raced along her body. Bubbles followed when she rubbed a bar of soap all over her skin.

  The gauze around her ankles sagged from the water, revealing the abrasions, so he squatted and removed the tape and unwound both strips. A majority of the wounds looked like deep burns. Scabs had formed over the sections that were actually torn. To cause that much damage… He could only imagine how hard she struggled to free herself from the ropes. Every time a vision crept into his mind, he’d blocked it. What she’d told him was enough. To create additional details spurred a burning rage in his guts.

  Every bit of amusement drained from his body. He wadded the bandages and set
them on the edge of the tub. Placing his hands on the outside of her thighs, he brought his lips to her hip and placed kisses around the protected stitches.

  What was the asshole’s purpose in carving his mark into a woman’s flesh? Did it make him proud, and feel more like a man? The fucking weasel. He’d marred all four women who were found in the house that night. Each one had been securely returned to their homes and would later be called as witnesses during the trial. The bastard didn’t stand a chance. And Brent wanted to be present in the courtroom to watch him go down.

  He gave the wound another gentle kiss before he padded his lips to her lower abdomen.

  Annalee slid her fingers into his hair and smiled. “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing away your pain.”

  She took hold of his hand. “Well, I have one right here that’s really bad,” she said, and placed his fingers between her thighs.

  “Oh yeah? Let’s see what we can do about that.” The water beat his erection as he stood up and pulled her close. He kissed her hard while he reached for the showerhead and detached it from the hook. After he turned the control knob from spray to pulse, he lowered it to his side and rested his mouth above her ear. “Sit down, Annalee, and spread your legs.”

  She rested her forehead against his chest, grabbed hold of his biceps and let him guide her to the backside of the tub, where she lowered herself to the edge. Her legs trembled as she opened her feet.

  “Farther,” he goaded.

  “Brent?” she said, but she wouldn’t look him in the eyes when she widened the gap between her thighs.

  “Shhh.” He placed her hand on the showerhead handle below his. The other she left clinging to his arm. To ease the initial sting of working the hose herself, he squatted, cupped his opposite hand on top of hers and aimed the stream in between her thighs.

  Her head banged the wall and her eyes closed when the water hit her clit. She gyrated her hips back and forth as best she could in her current position. Then she took full control of the sprayer and placed it where she needed it most. “Oh shit,” she wailed. “I can’t,” she dug her nails into his arm, “take it.”