Taken

by Lora Leigh

  Cooper lowered his head and closed his eyes. The scars across Sair’s chest. Fuck.

  “Okay, so get this. From what my embassy buds say, they rescued the girl quick enough, turned her over to her daddy for a few days, then Daddy was arrested, too. Whole big trial. Threw him in prison, yada yada. We know all that. Well, six months later, little Sarita Fredrico was killed in a car bombing that took out three more of Old Man Fredrico’s rivals. Or so the reports say. Start digging, and you find out that six months later, Sarah Fox emigrates from Italy by way of our good ally, Australia. Arrives with her uncle, Martin Corelli. Martin takes a security-guard job in Los Angeles, and little Sarah Fox is taking college classes. They move again a year later to Dallas. Sarah Fox goes into computer programming and graphics, and good old Martin is playing security guard again. Until four years ago. Martin dies. I talked to the coroner. He remembers the case, not because the death was anything less than natural, but because the dudes who collected the body were Italian. One grieving little mother dressed in black and a big, tall, somber young boy who managed only scattered English. They were accompanied, our coroner swears, by the Secret Service, who flashed some pretty impressive ID. The boy with the mother asks if old Corelli had other friends or family. Coroner says no, then asks the boy, How did you know he was here? The boy states, A call from a friend. Nothing more. End of story, everyone goes away. Six months later, you acquire a new neighbor. Miss Sarah Fox.”

  Cooper could hear the “but.” It was there. Tightening in his gut.

  “So?” he said carefully, glaring at the boards of the deck now.

  “So, we met Corelli,” Jake informed him. “Me and you, while we were in Dallas a few years back during leave. We were carousing the bars that week. Remember?”

  Cooper had to sit down. Fuck, he remembered. “He just called himself Martin.”

  “Righto,” Jake ground out. “We all drank, had us some laughs, and the dude gets up to leave, says he has to meet his niece and walk her home from nearby. Then when we left and those thugs tried to jump us outside the bar, he was there with that switchblade like hell on fire.”

  “And said one day he’d take a favor in turn for the help,” Cooper sighed. “That one day, if he died, he’d send me the only thing that meant anything to him. And I was to protect it.” They’d been drunker than hell, Cooper remembered that. He’d laughed, told Martin he’d protect his firstborn son in exchange. And Martin had told him that what he had was much more important than his firstborn son.

  “Well, here’s some more good info,” Jake snorted. “Corelli was here in Simsburg a few months before he died. I just got some info when I was talking to the Realtor who sold her that little house. Corelli arrived for two nights with his niece Sarah Fox. When the Realtor asked why they were looking in Simsburg, Miss Fox told her they knew someone in town.”

  “There was a girl there that night,” Cooper mused. “After the fight. She got off the bus on the corner while we were leaning against that bar laughing our asses off.”

  He remembered it now, as though it were yesterday. Blue eyes in the night, the small figure, her coat hood pulled over her head. Her face had been hidden by the hood, but she’d held keys in her hand. He remembered the glitter of those keys, one sharp point held between her fingers, a laptop bag looped over her neck.

  She’d been wary. On guard. But he remembered feeling her gaze go over him.

  Son of a bitch.

  “Corelli was her guardian. And she came here because of me.”

  “Actually, Martin was my uncle. And yes, I came here because I couldn’t forget you.”

  His head jerked up at the sound of her voice. How the fuck had she managed to slip into the kitchen without him knowing?

  “Shit. Your ass is in the fire now, huh, boss?” Jake groaned. “I’m gone. Good luck.”

  Cooper flipped the phone closed and stared back at Sarah. Her chin was held high, her dress buttoned a little crookedly. She was carrying her sandals in her hand.

  Her expression was stoic. There was fear in her eyes.

  He stared at her for long seconds, crossing his arms over his chest before he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She looked away from him for long seconds, then her eyes came back to him.

  “Because I was tired of being someone’s responsibility. For once, I wanted to be someone’s woman instead,” she finally said. “Thank you for today, but I think it’s time I leave now.”

  Cooper blinked as she turned and started through the kitchen. Son of a bitch. Had she thanked him for fucking her? Then decided to leave?

  He moved after her, catching her before she had taken more than half a dozen steps, and swung her around.

  “Oh, it’s not that easy, baby,” he assured her, his voice rough.

  He should be madder than hell. He should be raging. Cooper didn’t do responsibility really well. The bar was the biggest weight he wanted on his shoulders, nothing more. At least, until Sarah had knocked him on his ass.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” He held on to her even as she tried to pull away.

  “Because I wanted you, not your damned promise made to a man while you were drunk, nor did I want you to feel responsible because you flirted with me, made me want you on a night you most likely didn’t even remember,” she cried out. “I wanted the man I saw that night. The one that was so strong and so playful. A man who didn’t hurt his attackers, just wanted them bruised a little. I wanted the man whose bar my uncle and I would slip into and watch once he learned he was dying. I wanted the man I fell in love with once I arrived here and learned he was so much more than I imagined. I wanted you to want me, Ethan. I didn’t want you to feel responsible for me.”

  She jerked back her arm as he stared at her in shock.

  “You said you didn’t want love,” he accused her.

  “I said I wasn’t looking for love.” She threw him a scathing glance. “I’d already found it. I loved you. It was enough.”

  She shook her head, all those wild curls flowing around her.

  “You’re free, Ethan.” She opened her arms and stepped back. “No harm. No foul. You gave me more than I dreamed you ever would. And you gave it to me, not because of the memory of a debt.” There was a flash of pride in her eyes, of feminine pleasure and confidence. It made him hard. Made him want to fuck her again. Right there, in the middle of the kitchen floor.

  And he was going to do it.

  “We’re not finished,” he growled, jerking his belt loose, unzipping his jeans. “Not by a long shot.”

  Her eyes widened, her lips parted.

  Just in case she had it on her mind to say no, he covered those pouty lips with his own, jerked her into his arms, and lifted her.

  “Put your legs around me. Now.” He jerked her dress to her hips, kissed her again as she tried to speak and turned, pushing her against the wall as he tore at her panties, ripping them off her hips. He heard her excitement in the moan that filled the kiss, and felt it in the way her hands dug into his hair. Her lips ate at his, her tongue fought against his.

  “Hell, yeah. You love this.” He pulled her closer, shifted his hips until his cock was pressing into her. “Don’t you, Sair? You love my cock.”

  “I love you.” She glared back at him.

  “Tell me to fuck you.”

  A tear slipped from her eye. “Love me, Ethan. Just this once. Love me.”

  She made his knees weak.

  “Damn you,” he groaned. He slid the crown of his cock inside her and paused, feeling her, so silky, so hot. “Damn you, Sair.”

  He pushed into her, easier this time. Slower. He worked his erection into her, feeling all the little caresses, the sucking, milking ripples of her hot little pussy as she took him. So slow. So tight. So much pleasure he felt blinded by it. Felt as though he’d never have enough, could never take her enough to sate his hunger for her.

  He buried his face in her hair, felt her legs locking around his bac
k, and he took her slow and easy. Because the pleasure of it was enough to fight for, to die for.

  How the hell had she managed to get past his defenses? And she had. Slid right through them and he hadn’t even known it. Until he touched her. Until she asked him to show her how to be bad. Then broke through the last of his control when she asked him to love her.

  “So sweet. So tight,” he groaned against her neck, holding her to him, moving her on him. “God, Sair, what have you done to me?”

  His arms tightened around her as he felt her juices gathering, slickening, easing his way even more as his hips began to move faster. Harder. He needed her. Needed more and more until he felt her gripping him tighter, hotter, and heard her cry out his name.

  “Ethan!”

  Her face buried in his neck, her pussy rippled around him, and he lost himself in her. For the third time that day, he poured himself into her. Growling. Groaning. Lost in the pleasure that burned like a supernova through his body, he spilled every ounce into her, and he knew. It wasn’t just his body he gave her. It was himself.

  chapter 6

  it was the mother of all fuckups.

  Three days later, Cooper paced his attic, stared through the little window, and saw nothing. Fucking jack shit, and it was pissing him the hell off.

  Sair had walked out on him. After he pumped inside her until he thought he was going to melt to the kitchen floor, she had all but run from him.

  And what the hell had he done? Stood there. Like the fool he was, he just stood in the damned kitchen and watched her go, anger rising inside him as fast and as hard as lust had.

  Two years she had lived here. Two fucking years. She had brought him chicken soup while he was healing from knee surgery. Baked him fucking cookies. Talked to his friends and knew things about him she shouldn’t have known. And fit him like a glove.

  Hell, no woman had ever fit him like Sair did. And no woman had ever affected him as she did. He even missed her.

  When was the last time he had ever missed any particular woman? He didn’t miss women. He made certain he didn’t get close enough to women to miss them. So why the hell was he missing Sarah?

  Well, he’d had enough of it, that was for damned sure. He looked at the clock: He had to be at the bar in a few hours. He was dressed and ready to go. He just had to get Sarah ready to go.

  As though he hadn’t heard the rumors of the dipshits in town hitting on her? She went to the grocery store every afternoon, everyone knew it. No less than three of the bastards had been seen coming on to her. So far, no one had mentioned her flashing that cute little dimple. He’d have been homicidal if they had. That dimple was his, by God.

  And he was damned insane.

  But that didn’t keep him from stomping down to the main level of the house, out the front door, and over to Sair’s little house.

  He pounded on the door.

  His arms crossed over his chest as she opened the door and stared back at him warily.

  “What?” She didn’t seem hospitable.

  Too damned bad.

  He pushed his way in between her and the door frame, turning back to glare down at her.

  She was wearing another of those damned high-neck dresses. He hated those bastards.

  “Get dressed,” he ordered her. “We’re going out.”

  “We are?” She closed the door, crossed her own arms over her breasts, and glared right back at him.

  And that made him hard. His cock swelled in his jeans to dimensions he swore it had never attained before.

  “Where exactly are we going?”

  “To the grocery store first,” he informed her. “Then to the bar.”

  God, he was a nutcase.

  “And why the grocery store?” Her eyes narrowed back at him.

  Cooper bent his head and growled, nose to nose. “Those bastards hitting on you at that fucking store are going to learn who the hell you belong to, starting today. Since when the hell did a grocery store become a singles’ fucking meeting place?”

  “It always has been actually.” Her smile was tight. “You meet all kinds of people there.”

  “Men!” he snarled.

  “If I were looking for a man, then I would have easily found one this week.” She shrugged, then turned her back and moved through the house. “And I’m busy today. I bought enough groceries yesterday for dinner tonight, so I don’t need to go to the store.” She looked over her shoulder, those long curls falling down her back. “And I’m not in the mood for you, or your bar.”

  He stared at her before turning and stomping behind her. She made him stomp, dammit. She was driving him crazy.

  “What do you want, Ethan?” She turned on him as they reached the kitchen. “You wanted no strings. Look, no strings.” She held her arms out from her, her pale blue eyes reflecting an edge of pain. And oh yeah, there it was, a flash of arousal.

  His balls went tight. They knotted up beneath the base of his cock with painful intensity.

  “What do I want?” he growled silkily, advancing on her. “First, I want to show all those woman-grabbing yahoos in town that you’re mine. Then I want to reinforce that little message while I rub against you on that dance floor at my bar. Once we get finished, I’m going to take you to my office, lay you back on my desk, and eat that hot little pussy like candy and hear you scream my name again. Does that answer your question?”

  Her breasts were rising, falling, pushing against her dress with the panting breaths she was taking now.

  “You don’t want strings,” she whispered.

  “I fucked you without latex.” He grabbed her hips and jerked her ass to him. Hell in a handbasket, he had the least amount of control in the world where she was concerned. “If that’s not strings, baby, I don’t know what it is.”

  Her hands gripped his forearms. “But I’m on birth control. There’s no risk.”

  “Have you lost your mind, Sair?” He nipped her ear in retaliation. “I’m the condom fanatic, remember? You think I forget latex at the drop of a hat? You think I’ve ever trusted another woman enough to spill inside her?” He licked the little burn of the nip. “And I want to do it again. I want to watch while my cock pushes inside your tight pussy. Watch the way I stretch you open. Take you and fill you as you suck me in. Those are strings, damn you.”

  Sarah felt her knees weakening. She knew she should protest this. She should be screaming, throwing him out, telling him to go to hell.

  He hadn’t trusted her. He hadn’t asked her, but had had her investigated instead. And evidently by someone who knew what the hell he was doing. Because he had found almost everything.

  “Physical strings,” she whispered, her eyes almost closing as he ground his erection against her rear. “You couldn’t just ask me anything about me, could you, Ethan? You had to ask others.”

  She tried to pull away from him, but he wasn’t letting go. And not letting her go, holding her firmly, rubbing his erection against her ass, was killing her.

  Three days. She had been without him for three days. How was she supposed to stand this? She thought she could survive. That she would be okay. But she wasn’t. She was miserable. She ached. She woke at night needing his arms around her, tormented, hot, crying out for him. And he wasn’t there.

  She hadn’t had enough of him, she assured herself. Just a few more days, and maybe she could have sated the need that tore at her.

  “It doesn’t go away, baby.” She jerked at the sound of his voice, as though he could read her mind. “I’ve jacked off until my balls are blue and it doesn’t help. Nothing’s going to help until I have you again.”

  He turned her around, his hand curved beneath her hair along the back of her neck, holding her in place while his lips covered hers.

  She was supposed to fight this? Fight the pleasure that built until it felt like a fire was searing her? Tearing through her mind and melding her to him?

  She was supposed to be angry at him, wasn’t she? That was what she had t
old herself for three days. That he hadn’t trusted her. Hadn’t asked her about her private business but had instead had her investigated.

  She should be furious, not holding on to him, her hands digging into his hair, desperate for more of him. She needed his kiss, his touch. When his fingers tore at the buttons of her dress, pulling them from their moorings, opening the material as he tore his lips from hers to rove over the tops of the swollen mounds of her breasts, her breath caught.

  Yes. She needed this.

  “I missed you, Sair,” he groaned, lifting her until he had her on the small center island, pushing between her thighs as he pulled the shoulders of her dress over her arms, along with the straps of her bra.

  His lips zeroed in on her nipples, covered them, pulled at the little rings piercing them until she felt shudders of need racing just beneath her flesh. The things he could do to her. The ways he touched her. It was unlike anything she had told herself it could be. It was potent, addictive. It was the height of pleasure.

  “Damn. You make me crazy.” He pulled back, jerked the edges of her dress together, and stared down at her, his gaze sensual, drowsy. “Get dressed.”

  “I am dressed.” She stared back at him in confusion.

  “Jeans.” His hand moved over her ass. “You wear a dress to that bar and I’ll end up fucking you before I get you off the dance floor. Go. I’ll wait.”

  Sarah’s lips twitched at that command in his tone. “You’re bossy, Ethan.”

  “I’m horny, too, so watch out. Add the two and you could get more of an education in fucking me than you’re ready for right now.”

  Her lips parted and she smiled. He obviously liked her smile because his eyes narrowed, the amber highlights darkened. “I don’t know, Ethan,” she drawled. “I’ve always been a very fast learner. Maybe you’ll be the one falling behind in the lessons, rather than me.”