Dangerous Liaisons: Stealing Secrets

by Honey Jans

  Melanie gasped, seeing the old South American farm kitchen upside down, as he carried her into the house. Moonlight filtering through the grimy windows showed her the scene. Old cabinets lined the wall. A big kitchen sink sat under a window, an old fridge and range, a table and chairs filled the room. And then she noticed a closet with a paddle lock on it. A calendar hung on the wall dated December 1998.

  "Let me go,” she demanded, struggling in his grasp. Suddenly Ace swung her off his shoulder and she let out a frightened yelp as he plopped her firmly onto a hard wooden chair. He just as quickly slapped a silver handcuff on her wrist. Well, he had promised to tie her up, but not this way. He handled the restraints effortlessly, like he was used to using them, like he locked women up every day. The idea made her pussy spasm, but she dismissed it with the disdain it deserved. She noticed him glaring at her from below bloodstained brows and shivered. “Release me ... immediately!"

  "Shut up, Sugar, you're giving me a headache.” He wrapped the cuff around the table leg, dragging her bodily forward, and then jerked her other wrist up to cuff it. Panting, she closed her eyes preparing for the inevitable. Long quiet seconds passed without a word, without his hands touching her. She opened her eyes and shot a curious look his way. He leaned against the counter, his arms casually crossed, watching her as if she was an exhibit in a gallery.

  He smiled. “That ought to hold you till I figure out what I'm going to do with you."

  She froze, watching the smile light his handsome face; yes, he looked hot even beaten up. Figure out what I'm going to do with you. He'd said it with a cool smile. She could picture all manner of sexy things as his smoldering gaze lingered on her cleavage.

  Instead of pouncing, he went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands and sluice the blood off his face. Then he peeled off his tuxedo jacket, and shrugged out of his shirt and tie. She watched him as if he was her own private Chippendale's show. When his muscular chest and washboard abs came into view, her mouth watered, but when he turned his back on her, she cried out, seeing the bleeding wounds peppered across his back.

  "What?” he said, spinning around, gun in hand.

  "Your back, it's bleeding."

  His eyes widened as he looked at her. “Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

  "Nothing, my ass. You need stitched and a tetanus shot."

  "I've had worse. Believe me."

  She did. Why she should even care after the way he'd treated her, she didn't know, but she couldn't deny that she did. He turned off the water. Would he pounce now? He turned and went into the other room, saying, “Don't go anywhere, will you?"

  Watching him leave, she couldn't believe her luck. She could escape. All she had to do was lift up the table leg and she'd be free. Grabbing the table leg with both sweaty palms, she tugged. Her hands slipped, her head cracking painfully against the table. Pain shot through her forehead, and she let out a muffled cry. The table didn't budge.

  Leaning over to peer at the floor, she saw why. He'd actually nailed the table leg to the floor. Why that sly bastard. No wonder he'd been so confident, turning his back on her. Well, she'd outsmart him somehow.

  She heard a shower turn on in another room. He was going to take a shower while she fidgeted, feeling grimy on this hard wooden chair, it wasn't fair. She groaned as minutes passed and laid her head on the table as exhaustion won out, and she drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of plop, plop, plop from the sink.

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  Chapter 6

  Ace gave up trying to sleep and threw back the covers. Damn, he could smell her scent from the other room, knew she was sitting there on the wooden kitchen chair, pissed and uncomfortable. Before he could censor himself, he rolled out of bed and stalked out to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, seeing her lying with her head resting on the table and his heart twisted again. He fought back the tender feeling. It was just good business to keep a prisoner comfortable, that was why he was doing this, he told himself. With that thought in mind, he walked up and touched her shoulder. She awoke instantly and looked up at him, her big lavender eyes widening when she saw he was naked.

  He burned when her fascinated gaze swept over him to focus on his cock. As she stared, the damned thing pulsed, growing as she watched in seeming fascination. She smiled, and he felt himself flush. Good God, he never blushed. What the hell was she doing to him?

  "I didn't know that um ... cocks could be so large.” Quickly she added, “Not that I've seen many."

  He cleared his throat. “Come on,” he said, unlocking her cuffs.

  She whimpered, rubbing at her wrists, and he frowned when he saw the slightly reddened marks. It bothered him she'd felt discomfort. Scowling, but feeling badly, he pulled her into his arms and she melted against him. “Don't make me regret this, Brat,” he said, giving her panty-covered bottom a smack. His cock twitched when she softened against him as he gave her three more. Damn it, he wasn't looking for a Sub and if he were, it wouldn't be her. He let her go as if she burned him, because she did, and saw the wounded look in her eyes as his rejection. Join the club, Sugar; he thought grimly, being as conflicted as she no doubt was.

  "Come on,” he said, marching her to the bedroom. “Get them off,” he said gesturing at her underwear, “And I won't have to use the cuffs.” He dangled the handcuffs before her. He watched her eyes widen at the demand and tried not to look at her body. This wasn't about sex; it was about security. So much for romancing her. That might have worked ... another time, another circumstance ... anyway his demands would no doubt douse any sexual feelings she had for him.

  She frowned back at him. “Fine, but if you think I'm going to spread my legs for you because you heated my bottom, you've got another thing coming, Buster. I'll rack you first."

  His grinned at her feisty reaction even though she'd rejected him. With two ex-fiancées, he was used to it. He just wasn't good with women. “I already told you, I don't screw unwilling women and I'm sure as hell not stupid enough to mix business with pleasure.” He didn't have designs on her virtue anyway, he just didn't want her to run away, but when she gave him a disappointed look, it surprised him. “Stop stalling."

  With a grumble, she tried to undo her bent front bra hook. Struggling with the stretched out hook she glared at him. “This is your fault you know, Caveman."

  He couldn't help smiling; remembering when he'd grabbed her to make a point. “Let me,” he said reaching out and unhooking her bra with one hand. She trembled, flushing when his fingers brushed against her hot creamy skin and he felt a jolt inside him telegraph right to his stupid cock. Knowing he was close to danger, he dropped his hands and cleared his throat. “Now the panties."

  He didn't want to react but, damn, she was like a match to kindling, making him catch fire as he watched her. She shimmied out of her panties making her breasts swing and his mouth water. “Bed,” he bit out and watched a blush travel from her pretty face to her ass. When she climbed into bed, he had all he could do not to touch her.

  "So what's your brilliant game plan now?” she asked.

  "Sleep,” he said cocking an amused glance at her.

  "Some plan,” she grumbled.

  "Works for me,” he said with a chuckle, climbing into bed. The little gasp she made as she shifted over to the far side of the bed made him smile. “Slide over, Sugar."

  It was fun pushing her boundaries and it seemed she had a lot of them. She got off on the spanking earlier, he could tell, but now she was acting like an untouched virgin. Which persona was real? Did it matter? He couldn't have her. She turned her head away from him when he studied her, making him even more curious.

  "I promise I won't run away,” she grumbled. “So you don't have to sleep with me."

  He frowned as she tried to toss him out of bed. “I promise you won't run either, and in case it's escaped your notice, this is the only bed."

  "But a gentleman would..."

  "Who said I'm a gentleman?” he said, capturing h
er chin with his hand, making her look at him. “I'm a kidnapper, remember?"

  "I haven't forgotten. About my ransom..."

  "We'll talk about it tomorrow,” he said, letting her go, sighing when she inched over to press against the wall as if he was poison. “What, no good night kiss?” he teased sarcastically.

  She glared at him over her shoulder. “Screw you."

  He saw a banked fire in her eyes that left him breathless, and even though he knew there was no percentage in it, he liked knowing he could excite her. It was going to be a long night.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, Melanie sighed, her head resting on her dream lover's muscular chest. She restlessly threw one of her legs over his hot body, claiming him as her very own. When his strong arms wrapped around her, she smiled against his warm skin, feeling secure. His masculine scent turned her on, hell everything about him turned her on. Cuddling closer, she ran her hand down his rippled abs, kneading his resilient skin, tickling his flat male nipples until they puckered. He groaned and she rubbed against him, her hand drifting down to cup his cock. It was exquisite, like velvet over steel, and it was hard for her.

  "Wake up, Melanie,” came the insistent tone from another world.

  But she didn't want to wake up. She didn't want the dream to end. Instead, she rolled on top of him in la-la land, hearing his masculine grumble and feeling him go still under her. They were only inches from consummation and she needed him so badly. His manhood throbbed, full and hard and she couldn't resist rubbing her weeping sex against him, earning another deeper grumble from him.

  "Damn it, Melanie, wake up."

  That wasn't going to happen; she refused to awaken, not until she got what she wanted. With a roll of her hips, she took him inside her and gasped at the sweet invasion. Lord, he was big. Her pussy milked at his steely manhood, and only then did she open her eyes.

  Melanie gazed down at her captor's silver eyes, stunned by her wild behavior as her body tightened around his cock. His eyes narrowed in reaction, and he swore like he was in pain. She whimpered as pleasure rocked through her, her pussy tightening around him.

  He let out a slow breath, and then slowly regained his smile. “I'm glad to see you're not suffering any aftereffects from being shot at."

  At the mention of aftereffects, the horror she'd gone through flashed through her mind like an appalling movie. Tears came to her eyes. After such a wonderful erotic dream about Ace, her reality—the contrast—chilled her. Her breath caught on an outraged sob. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the ghastly images of being pursued by killers. Thank heaven; Ace had been there to rescue her. She owed him her life. She opened her eyes, feeling warm gratitude toward him, sure it reflected in her eyes.

  "Shit,” Ace murmured, pulling her close and rolling them over so he was on top of her.

  She lay under his rock hard body, gazing up at him, her emotions turbulent and her body still ablaze for him. How could she want him when he was the cause of all her troubles? But want him she did, with a vengeance. When he tried to pull away, she wrapped her legs around his waist and watched heat flare in his silver eyes. Did he look confused? Didn't he realize his appeal?

  "You don't know what you're asking for, Sugar."

  She ignored his warning and rolled her hips under his, making them both gasp. “Yes, I do."

  "I'm not Prince Charming,” he growled.

  "Say's who?” she shot back, her sex milking at his cock.

  "Hell,” Ace grumbled, surging inside her.

  "Oh yes,” she cried, her hips snapping up to meet him.

  Ratcheting up on his arms to deepen the impact, he pounded into her again and again, her fevered cries driving him on. He possessed her, his cock thrusting inside her creamy cunt. She moaned out of her head, needing this sexual healing. At least he couldn't lie to her about this.

  "Come now,” he demanded. She tightened around him like a vise as he spilled high inside her, against her cervix.

  Melanie cried softly, coming on command, her sex clutching him while waves of pleasure washed through her, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, her toes curling. She shuddered. Afterwards, he rolled off her, his breathing hard, and pulled her into his arms, his hands tightening around her. His tender reaction told her he cared, just a little bit, touching her heart.

  She sagged limply against Ace's chest, totally drained, listening to his thundering heart as her pulse slowed. She felt thoroughly fucked, even cherished. She was his prisoner for goodness sake, but somehow she wasn't scared anymore. And, in a way, she liked being his captive. Was she nuts? At the moment she didn't care. “That was..."

  "Intense,” he suggested, chuckling a little, amused. He seemed softer somehow.

  "Yeah, intense covers it. Weird too. You're making me crazy, you know."

  "Good, it's mutual."

  She smiled against his chest, feeling a wave of giddiness that confused her. She remembered the explosion and sighed. Whoever had tried to steal her from him would be back. Too bad the hunk she'd just ravished didn't want to talk about it. She might be blissfully boneless right now but she knew it couldn't last.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  The proposition and the fact he'd read her thoughts shocked her. Mr. Strong and Silent Type was actually offering to talk. The problem was, she probably couldn't believe a word he said. “Not right now,” she said, nestling her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, wanting to put off reality.

  "We're safe now."

  "That's good to know,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  "Go to sleep Melanie, I'll watch over you.” He smoothed a soothing hand down her back.

  "Stop treating me like a horse,” she grumbled as he stroked her, remembering his mention of the rodeo. She fought to stay awake and hear his rueful chuckle.

  "Sorry, force of habit."

  She'd figured that out already by his accent. “I guess we do need to talk, Ace, if that is your real name."

  "Morning's time enough for that,” he soothed. “I'll fix this mess and then I'll set you free."

  She couldn't help wondering how much he'd try to ransom her for. Jeb wouldn't pay, she knew, but maybe his boss would. Then there was Uncle-but she didn't want to bring him into it. Her thoughts made her sigh and she lay against Ace, sexually satisfied and discontent all at the same time. He'd set her free, did she mean that little to him after what they'd just done? A million questions whirled around in her head that she couldn't bring herself to ask. Instead, she decided to focus on the present. She'd enjoy him tonight because tomorrow she'd break away. “Just like that, huh?"

  "Sure, standard operating procedure."

  "Then you've kidnapped other women,” she said, resenting the fact that this was old hat for him.

  He chuckled, “Actually, you're my first."

  She knew she was sounding jealous and tried to take it back. “Never mind, it doesn't really matter. Like you said, you'll solve it and we'll go our separate ways."

  "I will tell you this; there's no other lover in my life right now."

  "Oh,” she said, feeling mollified and not quite knowing how to respond. It felt better to know she was his one and only, at least temporarily. But why had he confided in her?

  "How about you, Sugar? Is there anyone waiting back at Langley for you?"

  "No,” she said, thinking of her non-existent love life. And before you ask, I've never been tied up and spanked before either."

  Hi chuckled, giving her bottom a smack. “That wasn't a proper spanking, Sugar, but keep pressing and you just might get one."

  She moaned arching against him, afraid he was right. She craved the brand of sex he was offering. One taste wouldn't be enough. She had to run.

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  Chapter 7

  She was on a desert island. A balmy ocean breeze wafted across her warm face, while a waterfall trickled down to the beach. A palm frond tickled her cheek, and she smiled. Melanie's nose
wriggled when it kept on tickling, bringing her back to reality with a jolt. It slowly dawned on her that palm fronds weren't crawling on her. Little feet were walking across her face. Little feet!

  Biting back a scream, she jerked her head off her captor's chest in time to see a mouse scurrying across the room. Shaking, she scowled down at her snoring captor, seeing he hadn't even woken up in response to her scream. Some protector he'd turned out to be ... although he had been wounded. Had Ace lost too much blood? She rolled her eyes at the dopey thought. She didn't have time to play nurse and he'd seemed plenty strong last night when he'd taken her. It was probably the two other times he'd turned to her that had worn him out, she decided.

  She quietly sat up in bed, feeling her own sexual aftermath. Her sex was still a little tender, her nipples still felt swollen, and her skin a little abraded from his manly stubble. She took inventory of his magnificent naked body in the morning light, impressed. Ace reminded her of a sleeping tiger, all coiled power and beauty, although he probably wouldn't thank her for calling him pretty. He'd turned out to be a hell of a lover, but she knew it was time to run. Jeb wouldn't come looking for her in this godforsaken place; she had to rescue herself.

  She peered out the grimy window to see the sun was just rising. As an early riser, she knew she'd be at her peak now. She had to go. Slipping out of bed as quietly as she could, she slid on her panties and picked up her bra, sighing when she saw the shocking mess he'd made of it. She didn't want to struggle with it now, so she tiptoed across the room and put on his shirt. It was long enough to hang half way down her legs and pass for a dress. She grabbed his keys off the dresser, and his cash, and headed out, stopping in the doorway to give him one last fond look. She'd never forget her sexy kidnapper.

  Then with a sigh, she left the room and hurried across the yard to the barn, her pulse racing. This had to work. She had to get away. She climbed inside the jeep, stuck the key into the ignition, and turned the key. The car sputtered, but wouldn't start. She cursed, slamming her hand against the dash. “Start, damn it."