Billi Jean

by Running Scared

  “Yeah, retired now.”

  “Ah…” She let that stand, not quite sure she believed him. A major was a big deal.

  His brow rose as if he sensed her disbelief, and his lips quirked up before he caught himself. Then he did it. He actually smiled. It was amazingly effective. She held her breath and felt every drop of blood zing through her. He was dazzling with that slow grin. It was sexy and, yes, she admitted, made him look a great deal younger. More manageable? Maybe not that—good Lord, he would never be that—but more approachable. More human, less warrior. Did he have dimples? God, she was in trouble.

  She smiled up at him. She couldn’t not have. He seemed to be trying so hard. At what, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know…but still.

  The man wasn’t a smiling kind of guy. Or a talker. But he was a persistent man. And she was beginning to feel like an entirely different kind of prey. He wasn’t out to kill. No, he was out for something altogether different and perhaps more dangerous. He definitely wanted to shake up her world. But telling her what to buy? With her own, or Uncle Sam’s, money? No, no, Mr Big Bad Wolf.

  “And this title, retired Major Ryland, gives you authority over my MasterCard?”

  His lips quirked again at that, then he nodded, straight-faced. “Damn straight, if you’re thinking of buying something that could cut your leg off.”

  “What if it only cut up all the wood in my backyard? Then would it be out of your jurisdiction? And oh, by the way, I don’t see any ocean around here, Major Ryland. Aren’t Navy men supposed to be near it?”

  “Still no, still in my jurisdiction, and I can visit the ocean. I’m retired,” he said, his grey eyes twinkling with a bit of humour. He was enjoying this. And man, oh man, was he good. And, God help her, was she in trouble. He had that ‘dark, but you can make me light’ thing going on. That was it. That was what drew her, the ‘bad boy needing to be saved’ thing.

  “Now, let’s talk about what else you have in that cart. Why do you need a new lock? Didn’t you just get the house? Doesn’t it have a security system?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, big guy. My house and my cart are not your concern. Really, I am perfectly capable of spending my money, making my own decisions, driving and oh…all that other stuff adults do. Brush my teeth before bed, drink beer…all that adult stuff.”

  “Adult stuff?” He shifted closer, reminding her how very much bigger he was. She had to look up or get lost in how his pectorals filled his lightweight shirt. Really, were those allowed? They looked like slabs of muscle.

  “What did you do in the military, Major Ryland?” she asked sweetly, to try to calm her racing heart. He smelt good, too. Darn it. Leather, horses and some male scent only he had, she was certain.

  A slow smile slid across his face. Odd…it seemed like he was remembering how to smile and now couldn’t stop.

  “Special ops. SEALs, Sunshine. Like me better now?”

  God, that explained so much, she thought—the attraction, the attitude, all of it. She tried to keep her reactions to herself and sniffed at him, “Not hardly. But it fits.”

  His brow lifted a tiny bit. Then his eyes dipped to her breasts before he met her eyes again. Had her nipples tightened? Oh, God, that was way too exciting. This was exciting. And had to be wrong.

  “I’m sure it will,” he murmured, moving into her personal space.

  He was throwing off heat like a furnace and she was tempted to back up, but Geez, the man was intimidating enough without knowing it.

  Then his words hit home. Oh, the devil. The man had a sense of humour. He was handsome, obviously smart, deadly with weapons and funny. Her stomach did a little dip on the rollercoaster called Russ Ryland. He was bad enough at a distance, but up close? He was more sexually attractive than anyone she’d ever met. She tried not to shiver, but heck, he was the only man she had ever been sexually attracted to who wasn’t on some television show. He looked like he could chew her up, for a long, long time, then spit her out and move on without a backwards glance. This was a small town. She was alone. And she didn’t do casual sex with tall, handsome SEAL strangers. Did she? And heck, he didn’t look like he did anything casually.

  “Well, well, Major, you can smile and make nice. Very funny, but, if you don’t mind, I was shopping.” She edged around him, deciding that playing it safe was best, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  He bent down and bracketed her between the aisle and him, until all she could see were his grey eyes and the strong angles of his face. He had a shadow-beard, that sexy, rough stubble men got from not shaving. His lips were soft-looking, the bottom a bit fuller than the top one. She swallowed and met his eyes. His had darkened to something that reminded her of storm clouds.

  “Sunshine, I won’t bite. No need to be frightened. I’m harmless.”

  She gave him the look that deserved. Yeah, right. “Why are you calling me Sunshine?”

  “Because your smile reminds me of it.”

  Smooth, real smooth. And this was getting strange, like some movie where she’d missed the first half and was now scrambling to keep up. Had she missed something? Had they known each other in another lifetime?

  She tried to think what to say while he glanced around quickly, as if he was assessing the area. Then, before she could open her mouth, he dipped down and kissed her, hard, fast and skilfully. Heat rushed over her like a brush fire. He cupped her neck and eliminated the inch of space between them until their chests melded together. She held back a sigh at the strong feel of his body along hers. His lips caressed and smoothed over hers before she felt his tongue glide erotically along the seam of her lips. When she gasped and opened he dived in, his flavour minty with a taste of coffee and something else, something she guessed was all Russell. Whatever it was, she was hooked. Just as she raised her arm to touch him, he slowed the kiss and pulled back. His gaze burned into hers when she blinked her eyes open, and she felt weak and fluttery as he brushed a big thumb over her lips, where she could still taste peppermint.

  “What—?”

  He covered her lips with his thumb again, stilling her words.

  “I had to have one taste,” he murmured in a low, husky voice. “Listen, this is how it’s going to be. You’re not going to buy that chainsaw or axe. And Sunshine? You can’t run forever. I’ll see you soon.”

  With that arrogant announcement he sauntered out of the aisle, leaving her breathless and off balance.

  Chainsaw? What chainsaw?

  He tossed her a grin that looked more like sunshine than anything she’d seen in months, and dipped his head before he left her line of sight.

  He’d see her soon? Heck, she might not survive seeing him soon. She glanced around, but no one had seen the sneaky SEAL. Even so, she felt heat flush her face. She’d let him kiss her.

  Oh man, oh man, she probably would let him do anything, wouldn’t she? Suddenly, the little town of nothing in the middle of nowhere held a lot more possibilities than she’d considered.

  Chapter Four

  Some things took time. Eric Northcutt knew that. He’d lived by that motto for more years than he could count. He’d gained nothing in life by rushing. He’d always taken his time, and look what he had now. Everything.

  Except the one thing he wanted. The perfect family.

  He watched Mara lie where he’d tied her, face down on the bed. She was naked, gagged, hooded, and spread-eagled. This was the third time in less than a month that she’d disappeared. The first time had been merely minutes. The second time the same. The story she’d spun about needing to call her family, he had believed until today. Today, she’d been gone for several hours.

  Didn’t she realise she was his? She belonged to him. Eric considered killing her. The chances of finding someone to replace her were slim, though. Besides, he’d trained her, and in his own way he loved her. That cold, penetrating bleakness followed by panic he’d experienced when he’d checked her day planner and then the Mercedes’ GPS and discovere
d her off the charts had settled in him like death. What if he lost her? The panic induced by those five words had driven him insane until he’d found her. There would be no more freedom for Mara, he decided then and there. None. No more lies. No more trust. No more freedom. He couldn’t live without her. He wouldn’t live without her. She was his.

  But she would need a lesson. She knew better than to do this shit when he had a job lined up. The Russians wanted him to find out if a little snitch was as dead as the newspapers claimed, or still walking this planet, more than ready to rat them out. The reward would be enough for him to retire. Enough for them to start the life he’d dreamed of. They could have the perfect life. He deserved it. She owed it to him. After all he’d done for her, she owed him everything he wanted.

  But first, a reminder of whom she belonged to, from the top of her blonde head to the tips of her little pink toes, was in order.

  Eric rubbed his fingers over the half-moon scar that ran along his palm as he walked up to the side of their king-size bed. He wore the scars of his life. Mara wore none. She was pure, untainted by anyone’s touch—other than his. Easing his knee onto the mattress, he made sure she felt him hovering over her.

  She didn’t speak, but then she couldn’t. He watched her breathing quicken, the shallow, steady rise and fall increasing to a faster, more frantic rate. Only then did he reach over and tighten the knot on her wrist. He gave the rope a good tug and watched as the abrasive nylon tore her delicate, porcelain skin.

  He reached down, gripped his erection, and gave himself one long, slow stroke as he watched her skin flush pink. He’d taken his clothes off when she’d been still facing him. He’d wanted her to know exactly how much he’d enjoy punishing her. She’d known. She still knew. This close to her, he could hear her short, soft breaths against their silk sheets.

  Her small, slim back trembled. The curve of her heart-shaped ass was already dark pink from where he’d landed a few smacks. She’d be bright red and hot when he was finished with her. He’d make sure she never stepped foot outside without him again.

  “So, my little pearl. We have come to this again. What must I do?” He tugged the rope, adjusting the way her slim arms angled off the bed, creating a slight bow to her back. The ropes weren’t soft. He’d got the rough, coarse weave this time. They’d cut into her tender wrists and ankles and leave marks she’d have to cover, but he didn’t care. Not now. Not after she’d betrayed him.

  Again.

  Why would she leave him for even a minute? He’d given her everything. Everything. As he looked around the dazzling bedroom, his anger tripled. He’d given her this luxury, this extravagant home—clothes, jewels, cars—and she’d tried to leave him.

  He couldn’t understand her. She had her freedom, to an extent. He’d never release her completely; he’d not chance losing her. She belonged to him. He’d bought her at an auction over five years ago. One look at her pale, unblemished face and large aqua eyes, and he’d known she was what he needed. He’d paid fifty thousand dollars for her and done a job for the Armenians as payment.

  She adored him. Looked up to him, depended on him, and, in turn, Eric needed her, needed her soft looks and eager acceptance of his demands. He owned her. She was his. He took care of her, all of her, and this was how she repaid him?

  “Do you not find happiness with me? Do I not cherish you? Give you all you need? Spoil you, even. Allow you freedom?”

  Again, he didn’t need her response but she moved in protest on the bed, tightening her fists and shifting. The ropes would cut her deeply. Concerned, he knelt next to her and gripped her left biceps in warning. He didn’t want her scarred.

  The hood he’d put on her face covered her from her nose up. The gag wasn’t a gag at all, merely package tape. This was Mara, his little pearl—he wouldn’t prep her like his marks. He merely didn’t want to hear her excuses. Her parents, her sisters, her family. She had no need of anyone but him. He was her family. He was her all and everything. No one else for him. No one else allowed for her.

  “Don’t move. I don’t want you harming yourself.” He would do the harming. He would have to. “You force me to punish you, force me. How else can you learn? I pamper you, care for you, and how do you repay me? You betray me.”

  Tracing the side of her breasts where they lifted from the bed with each of her breaths, he experienced a rush of pleasure. Such a surprise, her heavy, full breasts. She’d been so small when he’d brought her home when she was merely fifteen, so flat and thin, but now…now she was a Goddess. Truly, Aphrodite could not have compared.

  “I may not trust you again, Mara, not after this. I may not ever trust you again, but I won’t let you go.”

  No, she was his. He’d earned her. Ten years in the Navy on that filthy boat, sacrificing a sock to his jacking off, and then years of having to hunt down girls because there was no way he was letting some whore touch him. Then, after years of suffering, worrying over the people that might not understand his need to have fresh, safe and pure women, he’d found Mara—scared, frightened, and pure as snow. Two weeks he’d spent on her, soothing, calming the frightened child, making her at ease with him before he’d claimed her.

  She was his. Now and forever. He removed the tape and hood but stayed crouched over her, overpowering her with his body.

  She didn’t speak, but a soft sob escaped. Tears trailed down her cheeks and more drenched her eyes in pools of aquamarine.

  “Now, tell me now, darling. Tell me why you would hurt me this way.”

  Her lip trembled prettily. “I never…never wanted to hurt…to hurt you. I love you.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he let his heavy erection settle on her hip, rubbing it crudely over her in warning. She’d not said this before. Always, before, she’d made excuses, a sick mother, needing to talk to her sister, all excuses.

  “I wasn’t leaving. I wasn’t. I promise. I never would leave. Please, a call. I promise. I never lie, never lie to you.” Her soft Russian accent made him soften his anger. She only let her British accent go when she was upset. He hated that she was upset. Crying.

  “Who? Who were you calling?”

  “My sister.”

  No hesitation. He took the hood off completely and stared down at her, still angry but slowly able to think more clearly. He needed to come again. If he came again, he would think more clearly. His dick was throbbing and needing more.

  “Suck me off.” It wasn’t a request, and she knew it.

  Sniffing, she nodded slightly, still cautious with him.

  Good. This was good. She would bring him clarity. He needed clarity. He had a target to find and take out.

  Cupping her face, he took her mouth, showing her who was in charge before breaking the kiss. “Say it again.”

  Pink lips quivering under him, she did. “I love you, Eric. Please, I never want to be parted from you.”

  He nodded, not having heard this before either. She was his. She was his and knew it. Could she still need him? “You’re mine. I don’t want you calling them again.”

  She sniffed but nodded. A tear leaked out.

  “Say it, Mara, convince me. I don’t believe you love me.”

  Something like shock filled her beautiful eyes, then more tears. Her face screwed up tight and she sobbed. “No, no, I love you. You’re my everything…everything good…everything good in my life, Eric.”

  He softened. Every ounce of anger dimmed. She wasn’t faking. She never had been. He knew she loved him—he was her everything. She grew more upset, worrying him enough that he gentled her with a soft whisper and untied her arms.

  Immediately she clung to him, sobbing and so upset she was going to make herself sick. Her arms tightened desperately around his neck. He could feel her tears along his shoulder. Warmth momentarily filled his chest. She loved him. She was his. Her family would remain a problem.

  “No more calls, Mara.” He rubbed her hair and shifted her on his lap, untying her legs with one hand. “No more
of this.”

  “No more… No more, I promise.” Tear-drenched green eyes met his when he tipped her face to meet her eyes.

  She was his. “Stop crying now. You and I have to take care of things.” He shifted her so she felt every inch of his cock.

  She blinked and shuddered in a breath. “You still want me?”

  Want her? Cupping her face, he kissed the salty tears, feeling his heart swell. “I want you. Now, show me how much you want me.”

  Mara nodded, and the slow, shy smile he’d dreamed of on too many nights made an appearance. He should still punish her, he knew, but she was his. He’d take care of this family, and then she would be all his.

  “Beg for it.”

  “Please let me…suck you off.”

  His erection pulsed, painful and ready for her sucking mouth.

  Yes, he’d forgive her. Maybe find this sister and kill her. And this mother and father that dared to draw her from him.

  First this, then the woman the Russians wanted guarantees was dead. Then, he’d take care of his life with Mara so that no one else could ever interfere.

  Chapter Five

  Russ could admit he was becoming a bit obsessed with Susan Fielding. She was like a sore tooth a tongue rubs against, even when one knows one shouldn’t. It didn’t help that he drove past her place to get to town. Or maybe it did. At least he had a chance to spot her.

  He could barely remember the taste of her soft lips. She’d been so warm in his arms. But she was a difficult woman to corral.

  For someone new to town, she sure was busy. So far he’d seen her out to lunch with Irene twice, at the hardware store three times, and at the little market half a dozen times. Each time, as soon as he’d managed to haul his truck into the parking lot, she’d pulled hers out. He felt like they were playing cat and mouse.

  He wanted a lot more than to play with her. He wanted to catch her and…well, do things he’d never considered before. He dreamed of her every night. Not simply rolling around in her bed until they were both exhausted, but marking her as his so everyone, from the young punk at the hardware store to any Tom, Dick or fucking Harry, knew she was taken. By him. But that was in his dreams.