Stockholm Syndromance: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 4)

by Ada Scott

  She bit her bottom lip with a nervousness that I noted didn’t reach her eyes, perhaps wondering if I meant what I said about no harm coming to her. It wasn’t exactly like I had earned her trust.

  I was on the job, I was a fucking professional, but I would have defied any man to not pause for a second to take in her physical perfection. Her hair had somehow settled down since her rude awakening, and she looked up at me with those big blue eyes that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the Goddess of Seduction.

  So I looked down. Just for a second but, fuck it, I looked. I imagined exploring that bare skin, seeing her writhe as she tried to cope with how hard I was driving my cock into her. There was nothing sexier on this planet than a girl who looked as innocent as Eliana being turned into a dirty little slut by a hard cock.

  Of course, the reality was never as good as the fantasy. Girls who looked like Eliana couldn’t handle the kind of sex that flashed through my mind in that brief second, and the girls who could didn’t look like Eliana. Hell of a catch-22.

  Then my single second of personal distraction was done. I gave her the food, ignoring her attempts at conversation. After a toilet break across the hallway, I cuffed her to the bed again and hit the sack myself, steadfastly refusing to turn around and see if her top had ridden up even further.

  Eventually, she ran out of ice-breakers and I managed to ignore the constant roar of bikers’ crotch rockets to descend into a light sleep. I needed to get as much as I could, because the longer I could drive for, the quicker I’d be able to deliver Eliana to Jace and complete the contract.

  It was difficult to tell exactly what time of day it was when I heard the door handle slowly turn and the low creak of the hinges, but I didn’t order a fucking wake-up call anyway. Under my pillow, I flicked the safety off my gun and opened my eyes, just a crack, listening intently.

  The door opened and none other than Keith himself was standing there. He looked back and forth to each side of the room a couple times and then hitched his belt. From what I could see through my narrow field of vision, he seemed to be alone, no weapon drawn.

  Keeping my face relaxed as if still asleep, I raised a metaphorical eyebrow. His behavior was explained the instant he took a few steps towards Eliana’s bed.

  I leapt up and had him pressed against the wall with my gun pushing his chin up before he could crawl on with her. Eliana startled and pulled herself into a sitting position, huddled in the corner away from this second fiasco for her in as many awakenings.

  “Hey there, partner, take it easy,” Keith said, with his hands up.

  I nudged his chin with the muzzle of my gun. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about. Just put that gun down and maybe go for a walk.”

  “The fuck I will. You want to march your ass out of here?” I paused. “Or do you think it’s a good idea to fuck with me?”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, son. I’m just here to take some tribute from this tasty little pussy before you get your ransom or whatever the fuck you’re doing. You owe me, and you’re being fuckin’ disrespectful in my house.”

  I felt his muscles bunching up in preparation for a sudden strike, in case his high-level negotiation skills didn’t come through for him, and gave him another nudge on the chin with my gun. Even without his beer gut he outweighed me by a good forty pounds. He had to believe, right down to his fuckin’ soul, that I was in charge.

  “My employer has paid you generously. You know who I work for. As far as I am concerned, this is my house. As far as you are concerned, she is mine. Now, you fuck off before I redecorate my house with your fucked up brains.”

  Keith’s resolve wavered for a second, but then he pulled himself together. “You dumb shit. You pull that trigger and more bikers than you know what to do with will come in here and tear you apart. Now you fuck off. Deal is off, I’m keeping her, and I’m keeping the cash. You better not still be here once I’m finished getting my dick wet in this rapemeat.”

  Those muscles were still ready to explode if he thought I had a lapse in concentration. I held his gaze, making sure he knew I was intently focused on him while my blood threatened to boil.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Even with Keith taking up all my attention, I could see Eliana’s face contort in confusion. I felt Keith relax by a few degrees at the same time before I continued.

  “Shooting you wouldn’t be the best idea.”

  I pulled the gun away and pistol-whipped him in the temple, followed up by a hard left-hook to his jaw as he grunted in surprise and pain. King Shit of Fuck Mountain crumpled to his knees as I backed off to let him fall.

  He uttered some wordless concept of pain, not having time to adjust to his recent injuries yet, and when I saw him taking in a deep breath that would no doubt be let out in a scream for help, I swung my leg as hard as I could and punted his face with everything I had.

  Keith’s head snapped back so far I had to wonder if his neck might have broken, then he face-planted on the concrete floor and went completely still. I didn’t want to leave in the cold light of day, but the hospitality around here had clearly run out and wouldn’t be coming back, no matter how much I explained to Keith’s second in charge that The Smoke Devils were led by a worthless sack of shit.

  I holstered my gun and peeked out the window, squinting against the late-afternoon sun that streamed in between the bars. The rattle of handcuffs brought my attention back to Eliana, who looked up from Keith to me with wide-eyed wonder.

  “Time to go,” I said.

  When I leaned down to release her from the metal bar at the top of her bed, she licked her lips, and if I didn’t know any better I would have said she was hoping for a kiss. It figured. A woman with her physical assets might try to seduce her way out of a hostage situation.

  “Wait. Leave them on,” she said.

  “We’ve got to go or we’re dead.” I reached for the cuffs again.

  “Take me,” she whispered. “Right now.”

  “You’re fuckin’ crazy. The only place I’m taking you is to my employer.”

  I detached one cuff and reattached it once she was clear of the metal bar, pulling her to her feet. Eliana was pouting as if I’d told her she couldn’t have a pony for her birthday.

  Those lips…

  Fuck that. This was no time to let a chick get under my skin. There were some unspoken rules that didn’t go into any of the contracts. The full list was up for debate, but I was sure one of them was “Don’t face-fuck the package.”

  Eliana

  My life had been dull grey with a forecast of fade-to-black for so long, that I could hardly believe the way it had burst into brilliant kaleidoscope hyper-color since my door came crashing down this morning. Instead of being behind those walls, unseen, unwanted, I was out here, and all around me was danger, the unexpected and pure exhilaration.

  The-guy-doing-his-job wasn’t much of a talker, but his every action seemed designed to make me wetter than water. I was transfixed by him whenever he was in sight.

  For a second, when he came back with my breakfast, I thought I could see my own desires mirrored in his eyes, the same shade of blue as mine, but then the windows to his soul pulled the curtains again. I thought I was going to melt.

  To have him sleeping so close, yet beyond the reach afforded me by my restraints, was torture. Yet I must have drifted off after my millionth attempt failed to get him to turn around, to get his eyes on me again.

  The next thing I knew, the sounds of a brief struggle first attempted to merge with my dream, and then snapped me out of it. I startled awake to see the Smoke Devils President with a gun under his chin, and none other than my knight-in-a-three-thousand-dollar-suit responsible for it.

  When he said I was his, with such… conviction, my legs actually parted a little of their own accord. You’ve gotta be a special kind of badass to stand alone in a biker gang’s headquarters and threaten the P
resident, and to hear the way he spoke was enthralling.

  He was not only my abductor, he was my protector. He had laid a claim to me, and I couldn’t even imagine anybody else I wanted to possess me anymore.

  When he kicked the living shit out of Keith, all I wanted was for him to use me, so I could use him. He could take this virginity and keep it forever, tear it from my body with thrusts employing every bit of the power with which he’d kicked away Keith’s consciousness. He could make me hurt, but he wouldn’t stop until he’d forced an orgasm out of me like a nuclear explosion.

  So I told him to leave the handcuffs on, I didn’t want to go anywhere. Here was as good a place as any. I wasn’t even wearing any panties to get in the way. He could have me right here, I needed him right now before it was too late, before we died.

  But he didn’t.

  He dragged me to my feet and pulled me out the door. We weren’t halfway down it when confronted by the biker who had first met us this morning.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Keith can’t have finished yet.”

  “He changed his mind,” my kidnapper said, aiming to walk right past.

  “Whoa there,” said the biker, stepping into our path and putting his hand on a gun at his hip. “Where is he?”

  “Let us through. Keith is fine.”

  As if on cue, a gurgly groan sounded from our room. The biker looked at us with slowly-dawning realization.

  “Don’t do it,” said my captor.

  A mush-mouthed scream of “Stop them!” from our room snapped the biker into action and he drew his gun. So fast that I couldn’t even understand how it was possible, I felt the chain between my cuffs released. Then a gunshot sent a spray of dust and drywall flying out of the wall to the right of our heads as my kidnapper pushed the gun to the side.

  When their weight shifted back to our left, the biker didn’t have the gun anymore, and the last expression he ever wore on his face was confusion, before the second gunshot ensured a closed-casket funeral for him. Almost immediately, another biker appeared at the far end of the hallway, and then another.

  “Fuck. Move! Move!”

  He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face the other way, before grabbing me by the hair to direct me away from the ever-increasing mass of approaching bikers. The sting of pain in my scalp only fueled my need for him, but he clearly had his mind on other things.

  We burst into another room as another gunshot pounded into the wall at the end of the hallway behind us. It was about the same size as our bedroom, except there were no beds. Dusty shelves littered with cardboard boxes lined each side, and light poured in at the far end through a window without bars on it.

  He shoved me in the direction of the window, closed the door and then shoved me again to get me past the shelves before pulling them down in front of the door. A second later, the door jammed against the fallen shelves as the bikers attempted to enter the room.

  My captor fired a shot through the door that seemed to give them pause, before swinging the window wide open and practically throwing me through it. I lost my balance on the ground outside; the grit was hot and rough under my bare feet, but he landed next to me and was there to catch me before I fell.

  “Walk fast, don’t run,” he said, steering me in the direction of his car, which had a tarp thrown over it at some point after I’d been taken into the guest suite.

  The biker gang was slowly stopping whatever they were doing. Some activities had been so noisy that individuals clearly hadn’t heard the gunfire, but the vague awareness that something strange was going on was visibly spreading.

  Possibly the only two people officially aware of whatever deal my captor’s employer had arranged were dead or fucked up in the building behind us. The two of us stuck out like sore thumbs and certainly looked like good candidates for the cause of the disturbance, whatever it might have been, maybe even more so if we were running.

  We walked past two bikers who were unsure whether to try to stop us or not before a larger group loosely formed between us and the car. Death Machine cursed like a sailor under his breath and changed our direction, putting some other random building between us and the larger group.

  Bikers were slowly starting to drift in our direction, moving more confidently as the ones and twos merged into larger clusters. Shouts started coming from the direction of the building we’d left.

  We came around a corner, and right in front of us was a bike with a custom paint job parked behind a guy with his back to us. He had headphones in his ears, bobbing his head to the beat of his own music and sifting through an array of parts and tools on the workbench in front of him. Completely oblivious to the events unfolding around him, he didn’t see us approaching.

  My captor grabbed the chain of my handcuffs. He pulled my arms over him so I was giving him some kind of awkward walking-hug for the last few steps before we reached the bike.

  “Get on,” he said quietly, not taking his eyes off the closest Smoke Devil.

  I hopped on behind him, and held on tight as he turned a key, then rose up to kick the mechanical monster to life. I gasped at all that rumbling power thrumming between my legs and held on even tighter. The noise of the bike was loud enough to catch the biker’s attention and he whirled around in surprise.

  “What the fuck-” He advanced on us, but was cut off when my kidnapper pointed a gun right at his head.

  “Back off.”

  With raised hands, he walked backwards, sideways along his workbench, to put distance between himself and us. The instant he was far enough away, the rev count of the bike rose and the rear wheel pelted him with a thick spray of dust and grit as we got moving.

  If they were unsure of themselves before, witnessing the theft of a bike tempered their resolve. I heard one gunshot, then another, as we raced towards the front gate.

  We came around a corner and, with one hand on the handlebar, he shot at a group of bikers rushing to close the front gate. Two of them went down as others returned fire.

  There were too many, and the gate closed before us. I heard the well-dressed man curse some more as he turned the front wheel and leaned to the left, putting us into a skid that made me scream with exhilaration.

  Our forward momentum carried us close to the nearest biker. My kidnapper kicked out at him, catching him right in the stomach, sending him flying backwards and ending our skid.

  The rev count went up again, as did the plume of dust and grit behind us, as we started out in a new direction. Another gunshot rang out from somewhere and I felt a searing pain on my upper arm.

  “Ow!”

  I looked down and saw my pajamas ripped, with blood seeping out of a cut where the bullet had grazed me. The injury burned, the bike hummed between my legs, and all the while I could feel the athletic body of my captor flexing and throwing his weight around to master this huge machine that was our only hope.

  All around us was noise. Shouting, unknown metallic clanking, the occasional gunshot and bullet whizzing by. I threw my head back and laughed like a lunatic.

  My captor fired at every biker in our way, and I let my hands wander down below his belt. The bike wobbled and he looked back at me with an unreadable expression for a split-second before returning his attention to the bikers, but there was nothing he could do to stop me.

  Under that material, under my fingertips, I found the thick shaft of his cock and grasped it as well as I could under the circumstances. I closed my eyes with a shuddering sigh, the cacophony all around me fading out for a moment.

  This was the first time I’d ever felt between a man’s legs in real life. It was worth savoring, no matter what the circumstances. It was worth savoring especially because of the circumstances.

  I stroked it as the bullets in the confiscated gun ran out, but he still didn’t stop me. He threw the gun away in frustration as I felt the tip of his cock with my fingers while my palm pressed against the shaft.

  Without a doubt, it was growing, harden
ing literally while I felt it. I leaned forward and gasped as my clit pressed against the seat, with nothing by my silky pajama bottoms between my most sensitive spot and the world’s most powerful vibrator.

  My captor was heading us straight for his car, as if he meant to go directly through the large group of bikers in front of it like bowling pins, while fumbling in the pocket of his suit jacket. I heard the jingle of keys over the roar of the bike, and then I was almost blinded by a huge fireball that erupted from the car’s trunk.

  The nearby bikers were knocked clear off their feet, and I felt the hot shockwave blast my hair back as we rode towards the fire. However badly it affected everything else was nothing compared to what it did to the wall behind the car.

  Utterly destroyed and engulfed in flames, he pushed the bike hard, accelerating through the chaos so fast that I might have flown off the back if I wasn’t cuffed to him.

  “Holy shiiiiii-”

  We rode straight through the fire and suddenly we were out on the open road, with the sun heading towards the horizon behind us. I looked back and saw the smoke billowing up into the sky, chasing a larger black cloud from the initial explosion. There was no sign that we were being chased, yet.

  Turning forward, I reached for his cock again, feeling the pulse of his growing excitement almost as clearly as the rumble of the bike against my sex. Bikers were so not my type, but I could see why some girls liked to ride with them.

  I nuzzled his ear and let out a soft moan as his manhood hardened even further, even though he gave no other indication that he was aware of what I was doing. I could clearly feel the ridge of his cock now, as it slowly snaked its way down his left pant leg. I scooted forward to press my body against him as hard as possible.

  My breasts squashed against his back, my nipples sliding against the slippery material as the powerful engine hummed pure pleasure into my body. I ran one hand along his full length, frustrated that his pants got between me and his heavy balls, and used the other to caress the ridge.