With my cock still in her, I carry her over to the bed and gently lay her down on it.
“Look at me. I want you to know who’s making you come. I want you screaming out my name like you don’t care who hears you.” I grind my hips down into her, purposely swiveling them to make contact with her swollen clit. Her eyes are locked onto mine like I have the answer to some problem she’s never been able to solve. She’ll know soon enough that I’m the biggest problem she’s ever had. I push away the guilt that threatens to ruin the moment.
I savor the look in her eyes because I know tomorrow she’ll hate me. I purpose to file this moment in my memory because I know I’ll have to draw on it in the future.
“Come for me baby. That’s it.”
Her body bucks beneath me with such force that I have to pin her down with the weight of mine. When she screams out my name while coming, it’s music to my ears—a symphony of lust and passion I’ve never experienced before. I know I’ll want to hear it again in the future. Once will never be enough—not with this woman. Whether she realizes it yet or not… she’ll be drawing on this memory in the future too. Even if it’s against her will, her mind will take her back to this night, over and over. I’ve accomplished one good thing tonight: I’ve begun the process of getting into her head.
Chapter Five
Ashleigh
The smell of woods and birds singing assaults my senses like some foreign force of nature I’ve never experienced in the city of Louisville. Just a dream my mind assures me as I roll over to go back to sleep.
I pull the covers away from my neck where they’ve gathered like they’re wrapped around it imposing on my space. I feel like I’m in a groggy state of somewhere between reality and a dream. I’m not ready to face the day, and my thoughts are too jumbled to decipher last night’s events.
“What a wealth of information you are. Tsk, tsk, you’ve really gotten yourself into quite a conundrum.”
The thick Cajun accent causes my memory to begin piecing together yesterday’s events. My eyes snap open in attention when I hear his voice and the rustle of paperwork. I jerk up, sitting against a headboard that isn’t mine. The feel of cold steel running between my nude breasts and down my abdomen forces me to focus.
In a frenzy, I jerk at the huge chain and feel my way up to my neck to find a wide steel band. I clench my fingers around it in an effort to see if it can be removed. I can feel the circular piece of steel where the chain is hooked. A tiny bit of hope surges through me, but it’s quickly gone when I feel that the clasp is welded to the circular piece and can’t be unhooked. When frantically jerking at it does no good, I run my hands around the steel band and feel a lock on the back of it. I look over in Bo’s direction and he’s taunting me by waving the key back and forth between two fingers as if it’s a metronome. He raises a sardonic brow challenging me. What’s going on here hits me like the proverbial brick wall—I’m being held hostage.
“You son of a bitch! You sick fuck. Where am I?”
“All in good time. I think I should be the one asking the questions.” His emphasis on the word I does anything but put my mind at ease. What does he think I know? It’s evident he wants the files I stole from my boss’ office, by the way he has them spread out on the desk in front of him, like he’s been studying them.
The cold look on his face, mixed with the lust in his eyes, causes me to grab the covers and pull them over my nude body.
“Nothing to cover up, baby girl. You look damn good collared and chained.”
“I’m not your fucking baby girl, you sicko!” I watch horrified as he calmly gets up and goes into the kitchen and begins pouring a cup of coffee. How can he act like this is normal behavior?
I use the time to look around and assess my situation. I’m in a log cabin, a large open spaced log cabin. Rooms are separated by style and furnishings rather than walls. Rich paneling, wood floors and an Ashley wood burning stove give testimony to the fact I’m somewhere out in the boondocks. I can feel anger stirring in my core when the thought of how beautiful this place is goes through my mind.
A man who kidnaps women shouldn’t be privy to this kind of prosperity. Psychos who abduct women should be in a dark, dingy warehouse somewhere, not living in the mountains… wait a minute.
“Son of a bitch! You took me into the mountains?”
He doesn’t answer me right away. He makes his way back over and hands me a steaming hot mug of coffee. When I reach for it, he pulls it away.
“You listen to me and you listen good, girl.”
Something about his calm demeanor and silky smooth voice is much scarier than if he shouted at me. I force myself to listen, hoping I can glean some kind of information that will help me escape.
“I left your hands free so you can function. I chained your ass so you can’t escape. Fuck with me… and I’ll handcuff your ass, put a spreader bar on your ankles, and leave every orifice you have exposed for my pleasure. You better not spill one drop of this coffee I’m giving you, and that includes throwing it anywhere near my direction.”
He waits a couple of seconds, studying my face. His intense gaze is only serving to make my face turn red with embarrassment. The whole spreader bar thing and the way he just said it, like it’s no big deal to him, was enough to put me on edge. In an effort to get his attention off me, I answer him.
“Alright already. Just give me the coffee.” Once again I get pissed off when I take a drink and it’s delicious. The bastard must be able to see it in my expression because of what he says.
“It’s community coffee.” He’s staring again. He leans in whispering in my ear. “It’s what we Cajun boys drink.” I hate myself for the flood of warmth I feel between my legs right now. How any man can make a cup of coffee sound so sensual is a mystery to me.
“I need to pee. Am I allowed to do that, oh high and mighty one?” He’s still staring. He nods his head in the direction of the only room with a door on it.
“So… are you going to unchain me?”
“Nope. Everything’s measured precisely, it’ll reach.” He leans in like we’re sharing a secret. “This ain’t my first rodeo, babe.”
“Asshole,” I growl under my breath. I rip the sheet from the bed to insure he doesn’t get a glimpse of one inch of my skin. I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire, much less give him a look at me naked.
“Too late. I saw it all up close and personal last night.”
“Asshole!” This time I yell it out, but not before I scurry into the bathroom and attempt to slam the door, which doesn’t work because I have a big ass chain attached to my neck.
“No truer words have ever been spoken.” His snarky tone rings out through the air like an unwelcome intruder.
I roll my eyes at his response. I watch the door like a hawk while I’m peeing, as if he’s going to bust through it any second. When he doesn’t, I’m relieved because I know I won’t be able to pee if he’s watching. I pick up the sheet I dropped to the floor so it wouldn’t be in the way while I was using the bathroom, and I notice how clean the floors are. It’d be a whole lot easier to hate him if this guy was ugly and lived in a dump. Oh… and let’s not forget the fact I fucked him. My first one-night stand and I have to choose the male version of fatal attraction.
I tighten the sheet around me, tucking it in so it remains in place while I look in the mirror. I trace my fingers up to my neck gently touching the metal collar. I’ve researched these things: what killers use when they abduct women. I’ve even researched kink: men who have fetishes with abduction and kidnapping. This guy doesn’t strike me as that type. He’s got an agenda, and if I’m ever going to get free of him; I need to find out what it is.
I reach down quietly, opening a small drawer in the wooden sink cabinet. My heart drops when I see my toothbrush, toothpaste, and dental floss. I panic. I begin slamming open cabinets, each one more horrifying than the next.
I’m so wrapped up in what I’m seeing that I don’t noti
ce him enter. I jump when I hear his sinister laugh. Before I have time to think, I lunge in his direction. I feel like I’m standing outside of my body watching another woman attack the man laughing at her. I beat my fists against his chest screaming as loud as I can.
“You son of a bitch—you sick son of a bitch. You brought my toiletries!?!”
His arms are wrapped around me in a bear hug so tightly I can’t free myself. That’s when it happens… I break, sobbing into the chest of my abductor.
“Why are doing this to me?” The words come out in broken sobs of distress. I can feel his hands petting over my hair in a soothing manner—like he’s trying to comfort me. I can’t for the life of me figure out how a man can be so brutal and yet so tender at the same time.
Bo
She’s pissed, confused, and more than likely a little hungover. This is a lot for anybody to digest. If I wasn’t terrified of that father of mine, I’d shoot her boss myself for putting me in this situation. I’m not the kind of guy who goes around looking for an intimate connection with women. Why that bitch Fate had to choose to tempt me with caring about the woman my daddy wants to kill, is beyond my scope of rationalization. No, I’m not in love with a woman I hardly know. Yes, I am mesmerized by a woman I’ve been watching for the last three months. I’ve stalked her every move. I’ve seen her laugh, cry, throw temper tantrums, and dance through her condo with a brush in her hand like it was a microphone, when she thought no one was watching.
Hunting is the most intimate form of bonding there is. If a hunter isn’t careful, their doe eyed prey will captivate them and escape when they least expect it. You can’t have a heart in my line of work; you can’t care. But, I guess it’s too late for that.
I finally get her calmed down and sit her back on the bed. I take a moment to freshen her coffee, and somewhere between her trying to beat the shit out of me and me getting her settled down, I have enough time to get pissed about this whole crazy situation. A surge of rage runs through me and I make my way over to the desk grabbing a picture and shoving it in her face.
“Do you know what this is!?!”
She jumps when she looks at it causing the coffee to slosh in the mug almost spilling. Her hand is shaking as she sets it down on the end table next to the bed. I wonder if she’s afraid to spill the coffee because of what I said earlier or if she’s just horrified by what she’s seen—I’d bet on the latter.
“It’s the back of a man my father beat with a horsewhip before he killed him and threw him to the gators. It’s ribbons of flesh pulled from a man’s back in a frenzy of sadism.” I shove it closer to her face, forcing her to look at the gory sight. “The man who did this is my father, and he wants you dead.”
Her ghostly pale complexion is enough to warn me to grab the small garbage can next to the bed. It’s just in time too. I hold her hair back while she pukes into it. Good… she got the message.
I know if she wasn’t hungover I’d have gotten the same response. Nobody with any kind of heart could stomach what I just showed her. I’ve seen some of the toughest bodyguards in the Bayou puke their guts out after watching my father torture an enemy.
I get up and put the picture back on the desk. She’s seen enough. I grab a washcloth and wet it down with cold water to clean her up.
“Crackers, please.” She groans.
I grab a box from the kitchen and set them on the nightstand, then wipe her face off. “Can you make it to go brush your teeth?” Her only response is shaking her head yes.
This time when she gets up, she doesn’t grab the sheet—just walks into the bathroom butt ass naked. Is she trying to kill me? Fire ignites somewhere in my lower belly and shoots straight to my cock giving me a raging hard-on.
There’s no hiding the outline in my jeans when she comes back.
“Seriously, Bo!?!”
“What the fuck do you expect? A beautiful woman in chains with no clothes on… I’d have to be dead to not have a… reaction.”
When she rolls her eyes at me my voice comes out in a low rumbled growl.
“Roll your eyes at me again and I’ll flip your ass over and fuck you senseless.” The look on my face must convince her because the shock on hers and the fact she’s pulling the sheet up to her neck as she eyes me with wide-eyed surprise speaks volumes. It doesn’t take a body language expert to read this girl. At least that’s one good thing about this job. There has to be a silver lining somewhere in this cluster-fuck of madness.
“Now I can question you, or I can interrogate you—that’s up to you. Lie to me, and I’m finished being nice.”
“Well, if kidnapping women is your nice side, I damn sure don’t want to see your evil side.” I sit blankly staring at her, waiting to see if she’s going to roll her eyes at me. When she doesn’t, I continue.
“I want to know what stories you’ve been doing for that television station you worked at.”
“Stories? Please. My boss has been giving me shit jobs because I won’t sleep with him.”
“Sounds about right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the guy’s an asshole.” That seems to soften her up. I listen as she continues.
“The last story he sent me on was to some truck stop. He wouldn’t even tell me what it was about, so I went in blind. I felt totally unprofessional and incompetent—which is exactly what he wanted. He’s made it his life’s mission to discredit me in front of my colleagues. I finally got sick of it and told him off, and that’s when he fired me. I have no idea what he’s gotten himself into, but it has nothing to do with me.”
“I call bullshit. There’s two files filled with information on my daddy over there—files you stole—files I found in your possession, lady.”
The way she tips her chin in the air and folds her arms across her chest tempts me to laugh, and I force myself to keep a straight face. Why does girl have to be so damn cute?
“I have nothing to do with those. In fact, I haven’t even read them.”
“Oh, I get it, you just stumbled upon them.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“Well, not exactly…”
I get up jerking the sheet from her body. “That’s fine, we’ll just put you in the cellar with the snakes and rats until you’re ready to talk.” I grab one of my keys to unlock the chain from the metal plate where it’s locked. She must know I’m dead serious because she gets a sudden case of verbal diarrhea.
“Okay, geez, you don’t have to go all mob style interrogation on me.”
It’s evident she’s being sarcastic. It suddenly hits me she has no idea my father is involved in organized crime. She hasn’t read those files. It doesn’t matter how clueless she is, her life is still in danger. She’s got one way out of this mess: me.
Chapter Six
Ashleigh
Being chained up with all the comforts of home is one thing, but being chained up in an underground cellar because my boss pissed somebody off is not going to happen.
I jerk the sheet back and cover myself up before I start spilling every bit of information I have.
“I was pissed after he fired me, so I went and unloaded on my best friend. She said something that gave me an idea. I decided to steal those files”—I nod in the direction of where they’re laying—“and sell his story to the highest bidder.”
“Vicious little vixen, aren’t you?”
I tilt my chin in defiance and answer. “He started it and I have to eat you know. My bills aren’t going to stop coming in just because he can’t get laid. I’m a good reporter and another station will hire me if I can come up with a hot story.”
“The hot story you’re referring to… is on a crazy man who sent me to watch you.”
“Your daddy, I assume. Hmph, looks like I’m not the only one with secrets. Do you always stalk your one-night stands?”
He leans in steepling his fingers and glaring at me. “No… but I might start because it was so much hotter fucking you because o
f all the things I’ve been watching you do for the last three months. Do you always blush when you’re embarrassed?”
“That’s none of your business! Now you tell me how the hell a story on sugar got me chained up in the middle of God knows where.”
He clicks his tongue like he’s irritated. “The less you know the safer you are.”
“The more I know, the more I can help you.”
“I don’t employ people I don’t trust.”
“You’ve got no choice.”
“Your boss owes my daddy a whole lot of money.”
“So you’re telling me that my boss sent me in to do a story on a very dangerous man without giving me any kind of a heads up?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. You’ve got one friend in the world right now: me.”
“Speaking of friends, Stephanie’s gonna be looking for me. You have no idea how much trouble she’ll cause you if she thinks you’ve done something bad to me.”
“You have no idea how much trouble my family will cause you if you don’t call her and act like you’ve met the love of your life, and you’re holed up in a romantic resort with him.”
“Where the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m at?” My heart stops when he answers.
“Tell her you’re in the Kentucky Appalachians.”
Every bit of air just got sucked out of the room. The walls are closing in and it’s all I can do to catch my breath. I hope like hell the danger I feel rolling off of this man is my imagination. Deep down in my gut I know it isn’t. The malevolent undercurrent in him is very real. This is another first for me. For the first time in my career of being a reporter I feel like I’m in grave danger. Somehow, some way, I have to escape.
I shake off the ominous thoughts when I see him hand me a cell phone to call my best friend and lie to her. I guess that’s three firsts now.
Vanished (A Born Bayou Novella) Page 3