TheFugitivesSexyBrother

by Annabeth Leong

  Emily glared at him, but she knew she couldn’t afford to let him distract her for too long. Not if she was going to have three orgasms in the space of twenty minutes. She pinched her clit, much more directly than would have been comfortable if she weren’t so wet. She squeezed her labia around it and used them to rub it. She smeared her palm through her soaking folds and ground the heel of her hand against her clit.

  At that point, she discovered another problem. She was as aroused as hell, but both her legs really wanted to straighten as she climbed toward orgasm. She wanted to bring her left hand up to her breast but the handcuffs would have turned that into an extraordinarily unnatural position. Emily growled her frustration and noticed that Javier was laughing at her while driving.

  “The more you do that, the faster I want to get you home,” he said. “I think you would look so cute hopping toward your apartment door with your thighs all sloppy.”

  His taunt actually helped her. The image of stumbling to the apartment door naked flushed through her and brought orgasm with it. Emily groaned with pleasure now, the force of the sensation making her tug at her restraints, emphasizing Javier’s control over her.

  “That was beautiful,” Javier said. “A couple of truck drivers liked it too. I think they had a pretty good view from above.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust you when you say things like that.”

  “I can say things like that because I trust you to put a stop to this if you’re not having fun.” He flicked on the car’s turn signal. “You’d better hurry, Emily. You’ve got two orgasms to go, and I’m about to get off the highway.”

  “Bastard!”

  “You already said that.”

  Emily closed her eyes and searched frantically for her sexiest fantasies. Something about Javier tying her up for days, a vibrator resting on her clit but falling away every time she bucked toward it, only to be replaced every time she stilled herself again. Him sucking her nipples until she begged to be filled, but then giving her his cock only to kiss. Her body pulsing and aching for him until she thought she would come in midair. When he finally knelt between her legs, he would push into her so slowly she would feel every millimeter of his skin as her body accepted him and pulled him in deep.

  The fantasy took hold in the fertile ground of the residual pleasure that still throbbed through her clit. A languid, bottomless orgasm pulsed under her fingers and spread until it reached the farthest points of every finger and toe.

  “That one was fast,” Javier said.

  Emily could only gasp in reply. Aftershocks curled her hips up rhythmically. She forgot the handcuffs and tried to adjust her leg, only to be sharply reminded of her situation.

  “I think you’ve actually got a chance at this. But you’ll have to hurry, because we’re two streets away.”

  Emily jerked up, glancing wildly out of the car window. Javier was right. They’d almost reached her apartment. She rubbed her clit hard and fast again, trying to gain a last orgasm by riding her aftershocks up to a higher level of pleasure. She held her breath and struggled for it, knowing she was running out of time and not entirely sure whether she wanted to succeed or fail. Her wrist ached. Sweat poured off her forehead. Her hard nipples brushed against the inside of her bra as she moved. She brushed the right one with the inside of her arm.

  The last orgasm was close. She needed just a little more sensation, but her right hand couldn’t move any faster. She groaned unashamedly, reaching for it. If she could just pinch her left nipple, she could come, but even with her flexibility she couldn’t lift her left hand into place.

  Then Javier’s fingers closed around the nipple, as if he were a mind reader. He squeezed and twisted to perfection, and Emily cried out her appreciation, the third climax tearing through her with raw edges and shimmering glory.

  “Thank you,” she gasped as soon as she could manage it. Then she realized the car had stopped. She sat up and glanced around. They sat in the parking lot outside her building. Javier watched her with a big grin. She blinked and wiped her face against her right sleeve. “Did that count? Did I win?”

  Javier’s smile widened even further. He winked. “Which is more fun for you? Winning or losing?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Matthew lifted the outside screen out of the window frame and set it down on the ground beside him. Before going to work on the window, he paused to wipe his nose. Someone really wanted this house to look cute, enough to plant all kinds of things in the yard that he was allergic to. Thanks to the time of year, he was more than ankle-deep in dead leaves. He sighed and slid a tool into the window so he could undo the latch.

  Technically, this was illegal as hell. He could break and enter if it was a target’s house, and if he was sure the quarry was inside. Friends and family of the target were a different story. Fortunately for him, most of them didn’t know that. Besides, by the time he worked over Carolina Mendes enough to get Fernando Bonavita’s location out of her, she’d be too afraid of him to pursue legal action.

  The window catch released. Matthew jimmied it open and sized up the space he’d created. It wouldn’t be comfortable to squeeze through, but he thought he could do it.

  He breathed out slowly, collapsing his chest and lungs as much as possible as he did. He reached through with his arms first, groping for something to use for leverage. Luck was on his side. He found a narrow table. He gripped the sides of it and settled his torso in the window frame.

  He had to tug himself through inch by inch, and one protruding nail found its way under his T-shirt and left a long gash on his upper arm. Still, after a brief struggle, he popped the last of himself into the house, turning the motion into a smooth roll across the tile floor.

  Inside, the place smelled of flowers and dish detergent. The woman who lived here had decorated for fall, hanging deep orange curtains and putting out a tablecloth embroidered with harvest leaves. A vase sat in the center of the table. He didn’t recognize the flowers. The depth of their color surprised him. He hadn’t realized flowers came that way. He sniffed. She probably had closets full of linens, a set for each season. She probably bought candles with scents like pumpkin pie and ocean breeze.

  Matthew tried to imagine a woman like that with scum like Fernando Bonavita. He’d pictured someone trashy, and a place littered with dirty halter tops that smelled of cheap perfume. He hadn’t expected to find a home straight out of a fantasy.

  A car engine sounded in the driveway. Matthew ducked under the kitchen table, hiding under the long skirt of the tablecloth. A key turned in the door. Footsteps came down the hall. Matthew barely breathed, overcome with curiosity about the woman who had captured Fernando Bonavita’s heart.

  A pair of baggy scrubs came into view, mostly covering a pair of sensible rubber-soled shoes. A disappointment. Matthew didn’t let it stop him. He waited until she came within easy reach of the table. When he knew he could get to her with one motion, he leaped, overturning the table and taking her down to the tiled floor. He made sure to cradle the back of her head, since a concussion wouldn’t serve his purposes. Other than that, he allowed her to feel the full pain of the impact, and his weight crashing onto her to squeeze that much more air from her lungs. The vase shattered on the floor behind them.

  She struggled but obviously wasn’t trained as a fighter. He held her down easily, pinning both her hands with one of his. Matthew leaned back and studied her face. Lovely, but he didn’t see the appeal for a man whose money and connections could win him almost any woman he wanted. Her cheeks were too round compared to, say, Emily.

  One thing he respected—she didn’t scream. She only waited, watching him. He wondered what she saw. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Matthew said, “as long as you cooperate.”

  She hauled off and spat in his face. More spunk than her appearance suggested, but he should have expected that. He used his free hand to trap her hair, preventing her from moving her head. “You’re not going to be able to get away from me,”
he said.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was more purr than growl. She was nothing to be afraid of.

  “Fernando Bonavita.”

  “You’re crazy.” But she paled.

  Matthew smiled, letting her take a little more weight. “I have it on good authority that you know him. You sure you don’t?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Matthew gave her a light slap. “Do you think he’d come after you? Or were you just a one-night stand?” He didn’t let her turn her face away. “Someone seemed to think you were very important to him. Do you know how to get in touch with him?”

  Still nothing. Brave woman. Matthew would have to step up the intimidation. He retrieved restraints from the pouch at his waist and fastened them around her wrists with deft fingers. Then he dragged her to the kitchen by the hair, heedless of the glass that crunched beneath his boots. He opened the cabinets one by one. “You’ve got a lot of nice china in here,” he said. “I’d hate to have to break it all.”

  She watched him impassively, but he saw the way she flinched when he lifted the first plate. He let it fall so she would know he was serious. “I don’t know what kind of person I’d be if I gave a man up over a set of china,” she said sharply.

  “So you do know him. Thanks for telling me that.”

  A childish trick, but her face fell when he pointed out her supposed betrayal. She watched him break the rest of her china without another word, but as he removed the last few dishes, he saw tears start in her eyes.

  “You liked those, didn’t you? You obviously care a lot about your house. You wouldn’t want to watch me break every single item in here, would you? But I will if you make me do it.”

  She set her jaw and stared at him. She made no effort to wipe away the water that trickled down her face. Guilt flashed through him. She stood defiant and magnificent, her stoic resistance finally revealing the qualities that must have entranced his quarry. He didn’t allow the emotion to soften him. He needed this too much. Without the money from this job, he could lose the Lotus. Considering the calls he’d been getting from Sergio over the past several days, though, he had a lot more to worry about than his beloved car. Like his toenails and the integrity of his kneecaps.

  “You know Fernando Bonavita,” Matthew said. “You’ve already admitted that. Why make it harder on yourself? Just tell me how to get in touch with him and your house stays pretty, and so do you.” He had the smile to match this last threat, broad and bloodthirsty.

  “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not telling you anything.” She spoke with quiet certainty, not bravado.

  Matthew let the triumph show on his face. “You’re bad at this game, sweetheart. You’ve just told me you do know how to reach Fernando Bonavita. Now it’s simply a matter of finding where you’ve put the information.” He paused, examining her dismayed but determined expression. “Let’s hope for your sake that it’s not in that stubborn head of yours.”

  He pulled her through the house by the restraints until he found a computer tucked into the corner of a tidy master bedroom. A thin monitor perched birdlike atop a neat desk with slim drawers and another vase of flowers. Matthew paused before it. He spoke his thoughts aloud so her face would give him hints of whether he’d found the right track. “I could make you turn that on so we can look through files, but you’re not that kind of girl, are you? I’m thinking you probably wrote down whatever you know about how to reach him. So drawers it is.”

  Carolina seemed worried. A good sign. Matthew examined the room for a good place to hitch her. Long posts adorned the corners of the bed, almost taller than he was. He lifted Carolina and threaded her restraints over one of them. He left her sitting on the bed. If she tried to work herself free, he’d definitely hear the sound of her climbing up.

  The first drawer contained photographs in sheet protectors, many of people he didn’t recognize, and some of Carolina, but also a number of Fernando Bonavita. Matthew pulled them eagerly from the desk. The criminal, shirtless, hanging doors onto cupboards in the kitchen, smiling over his shoulder at the person taking the photo. Or sitting down before a fabulous repast of roast turkey and side dishes, his hands folded as if in prayer. A close-up of his face, gazing at the camera with a sort of naked vulnerability that Matthew found unsettling.

  He tossed the images in Carolina’s direction. “He’ll come looking for you, all right. You didn’t tell me he played handyman here. I should break down those cabinet doors just to piss him off.”

  Carolina lifted her chin, but he noticed the way her eyes caressed the photographs. Whatever they had was serious.

  The second drawer contained an address book made of orange leather stamped with a flower on the cover. Matthew grinned and opened it. On the first page, he found a holiday gift list. Fernando’s name appeared at the bottom, followed by a question mark. He displayed the find to her. “Trouble in paradise?”

  He didn’t wait for a response. Matthew flipped to the appropriate section of the alphabet. He recognized the contact information there—Bonavita’s house, cell phone and landline. All useless by now. He frowned, concerned that the question mark on her gift list indicated that she didn’t know how to find him either.

  Matthew decided to bluff. He snapped the book shut with finality and turned back to Carolina. “He abandoned you, didn’t he? Probably ran off with another woman. Another lover in another port. I guess you really don’t know where he is. Sorry about the china.”

  Carolina relaxed her face and body. Too much. He had missed something in the desk, something that had her very concerned.

  Matthew grinned, purposefully showing his teeth. “I’ll just take a closer look at this drawer where I found the address book, to be sure…” This woman would play poker quite poorly. Panic shrouded her face like a veil. The drawer held the key.

  Now that he knew where to focus, Matthew took his time, sitting cross-legged and going through items one by one. He found nothing as obvious as an address book, but he could be patient. Carolina wasn’t going anywhere.

  He removed knickknacks, notes and colorful pens, stacking them on the floor beside him. When the drawer sat empty, he turned toward Carolina and spoke aloud again. “Not in here, but I saw how nervous I made you when I started looking at this. You seem like a nice lady. No one would suspect you of anything. But if you’re as close to Fernando as it looks like you are, you have to know you’re dating a criminal.” The woman’s neck flushed, her brown skin warming and gaining rose tones. Matthew nodded. “Maybe you came up with something you thought would be clever. Like taping the information to an odd place.” She hung her head. She might have been crying again.

  Matthew’s heart pounded in his chest. His ticket out of trouble seemed certain. Turning back to the drawer, he slid it off his tracks and flipped it over. On the underside he found a sheet of notebook paper, with instructions printed on it in purple block letters. He gave a little sound of celebration, and for the first time Carolina’s sobs became audible.

  “Wow, this is complicated,” Matthew said aloud, staring at the step-by-step breakdown of how to access an encrypted dropbox. Normally, he’d take this sort of thing to Neva, but after their last encounter he suspected he’d plowed that field for all it was worth. “This is some real spy stuff you’ve got here, woman. We’re going to have to take our time and figure it out together.”

  Matthew didn’t like computers. He preferred doing his work the old-fashioned way, with strength, intimidation and the ability to read a person. Everyone placed too much stock in devices these days. He’d suspected many times that this had to do with Guy’s recent snubs. His boss had forgotten the power of muscle and tradition and entrusted too much to a couple of chicks with email accounts.

  In this case, however, if this woman could understand these instructions, so could he. Matthew took a deep breath and concentrated. The notes tangled and confounded him and Carolina certainly wasn’t any help. An hour and a half later, after a few false starts and
nearly getting locked out of the system, he accessed Fernando Bonavita’s hidden trove.

  Messages filled the screen, some addressed to Carolina and some to Javier Bonavita. He noted that neither of them had replied. Matthew opened one at random and whistled. He read aloud.

  “Carolina, my love, I’ve got no right to expect you to respond to me or even see this, but I can’t restrain myself from the need to tell you how I feel. I’ve gone over and over the time I spent with you, and the opportunities I had to tell you the truth. I have no excuse. I lured you in under false pretenses, and if I live to be a hundred, I will never have time enough to make that up to you. Even if you are finished with me, I want you to know how deeply I apologize. I hope you log in at least once and see that much. On the other hand, if you are not finished with me…” Matthew stopped reading, scanning down the rest of the page. Fernando had segued into an explicit sexual fantasy involving a set of nipple clamps, a plastic comb, a strip of velvet and a pair of silk ties. Matthew’s cock stirred despite himself.

  He glanced back to Carolina, sizing her up afresh. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into the things he’s describing. There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she said.

  “He loves you though. He is head over heels, ready to marry you if you would let him. I also wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to hold out when a man felt that way about you.”

  “He lied to me,” Carolina returned, then immediately looked as though she regretted it.

  “Well, he’s sorry.” Matthew smirked. “New plan. I’m going to help you work out this relationship. You’ll come with me, and together we’ll write a nice email telling him all about where you are and what he can do if he ever wants the chance to see you again.”

  “What are you saying?” Delicious fear trembled on her lips. He’d changed her mind completely about her by that point. She was exquisite. He could see why Bonavita would do anything for her.