“Put your hand on me,” he pleaded. His brow was covered in sweat. Whatever she was doing, he seemed to really like it. Emboldened, Sparrow traced the bulging veins running down his length. Another drop moistened on his tip and she moved as if in a trance, smearing the small bead of wetness over his crown.
“Jesus, you feel so good. Now, stroke me.”
She focused on the task, wrapping her fingers around his girth and beginning to move her hand up and down, light and slow and unsure. His hips thrust up to meet her every move.
“Harder, Sparrow. Squeeze harder.” His harsh command sent a surge of fire through her veins. She felt alive, powerful. She wanted him. Wanted to please him, as he had pleased her. So she gripped him tighter, pumping him faster.
“That's it baby. That's it. Almost there, don't stop.”
Sparrow concentrated, timing her movements with the rhythm of his hips as he thrust up into her hand.
“Yes, baby that's it. So close.” He strained into her.
Unashamedly, she felt that now familiar ache between her legs. Knew what it meant and the hint of where it could lead. She squirmed and rubbed her thighs together, wanting him to touch her.
“Open up, Sparrow. I know you’re in there.” Miss Kay banged on her front door. Sparrow froze, her hand unmoving on his dick.
“Don't stop, ignore it,” he commanded.
“Unlock the door.” Miss Kay wouldn’t wait long. Dammit, she was so close. Sparrow couldn’t stop touching and cupping him now. He thrust up into her hand.
He held Sparrow’s gaze. “Finish. Just ignore them.”
Miss Kay banged on the door again. If she caught Sparrow like this, Sparrow might as well kiss her future goodbye.
Chapter 4
As if struck by lightning, Sparrow bolted from the bed and threw on her muscle shirt, hiding those magnificent breasts. Next came the button up.
Agony such as Jared had never known coursed through his body. He’d been so close. Now she was going to leave him, literally, with blue balls.
“Dammit, Sparrow, you can't leave me like this. Untie my hands.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. He watched as she finished buttoning her shirt with trembling fingers. Sparrow’s cheeks, flushed with pleasure a moment ago, were now pale. “Can't. She'll come in if I don't go out.”
Whoever was at the front door banged again and Sparrow jumped. It was obvious she was afraid of the woman.
“Untie me. At least let me take care of myself.” God, his cock was so hard he couldn't think. Couldn't form a single thought outside of Sparrow’s hands. Her breasts. Her silky soft skin in his mouth.
“No. I'll be back. Just…just stay here.” With that, she yanked up his pants. Jared didn't lift his hips to help her this time. Frustration and anger mixed, morphing into some emotion he couldn't name.
Jared gave a merciless laugh and yanked on the ropes binding his hands to the bed. “I don't really have a choice, do I?”
She buttoned his pants and yanked his shirt down. Her gaze was no longer focused on him. She kept stealing anxious little glances over her shoulder. “I'll be back, I promise I won't leave you like this, but I have to go.”
His last glimpse of her before she ran out the door was an expression of regret and longing. But that didn't stop her from slamming the door behind her or leaving him on the edge of what would have been one of the most intense orgasms of his entire life.
No. Whoever was outside scared the girl so much she hadn't even wasted a breath before shooting up from the bed to get dressed. Jared lay back, his muscles straining, and squeezed his eyes shut. Think of cold rivers. Dead puppies. Nuns. But nothing worked. His dick was so hard it hurt.
Fuck, she'd been so sexy. The sexiest woman he had ever seen. And yet her movements had been hesitant, like she didn't know what she was doing. Like she’d never touched a man before. The thought sent blood coursing to his cock again, stretching him to near exploding.
Dead puppies. Dead puppies. Dead puppies. But the image and the taste and smell of Sparrow surrounded him. Fuck. Someone could dump a truckload of dead puppies on top of him right now and it wouldn't matter. The only person that could ease this pain was that wisp of a girl. A girl who’d run out of the room and left him here with his hands tied.
Jared had never known such agony. His attempts to ignore the pressure did nothing. He tried to rip the rope that held him, but the rough material just sawed into his skin. Even if he could focus on escape techniques, he probably wouldn’t succeed given his state of mind. The humiliation of his position sliced through him like serrated knives. He was the one in control, always. Yet this…this…innocent girl-woman had him in a position of submissiveness. His hands had been bound of his own accord. A cold sweat formed on his brow. After being tied up in that dark closet, he’d vowed never to be bound again. Ever. The ropes binding his hands seemed to tighten. The air grew thick and heavy.
She’d left him like this. Straining and helpless. He vowed right then and there that he would turn the tables. He would tie her up, drive her wild enough to beg, then leave her hanging. Still, he couldn't wait to explore her sweet depths—he’d only gotten a sample of her, and it wasn’t near enough.
The bedroom door cracked open and he yanked his head from the pillow. Only this time it wasn't Sparrow. A large woman filled the door, her shoulder-length black hair matted and tangled. Her sallow sagging skin a perfect background for her dull brown eyes. Uncaring eyes that belonged on a pit bull, not a woman.
Recognition slammed into him like a wrecking ball, obliterating his lingering lust and desire to make way for a cold blast of killing rage.
His aunt, Miss Kaitlyn Crowe, also known as Miss Kay, stared at him with curiosity but no recognition. Jared waited for her to realize who he was, but that didn't happen. “I see my Sparrow done good. Caught herself a grunt. What's your name, boy?”
Her voice sent cold dread down his spine. That voice had once haunted his days and terrorized his nights. He lunged up against the rope so hard blood trailed down his arms. The room shrank. Grew darker, more sinister. The closet…
“Can't speak? Well, my boys can fix that problem real quick.” Kay snapped her fingers. Her oversized faded floral dress a mockery of the monster inside.
“I staked my claim. He's mine to interrogate.” Jared heard Sparrow, but he couldn’t see her.
Kay wasn't nearly as huge as he remembered, probably because he’d left this place at age ten, but she was a big woman. Much bigger than Sparrow. “Girl, you don't know what to do with no man. Never have. Best you let Jimbo see to this.”
“You can't break the code,” Sparrow said. Mountain code, even he remembered that from his youth. His mom and dad had lived and died by the code. Jared curled his fingers in a tight fist, the only movement he allowed. He hadn't planned on seeing his nemesis for the first time in this position. But he wouldn't be tied up for long, and once he got free…
“And just what do you think you can do?” Kay stepped fully into the room, allowing Sparrow to slip past. Their difference in size and stature was so great it was almost comical. But nothing was funny now. Not when the woman who’d tortured him all those years ago stood not five feet away.
“I have a plan. I was working on it when you interrupted. You know you can't break code. He's mine.” Sparrow argued, her hands on her hips. His little bird had claws. Ones she wasn’t scared to show.
Code was more sacred than the law around these parts. Mountain folk might be backwards hillbillies who could give a shit about secular laws, but they had their own system. And if you broke that system, the punishment was swift and severe.
Jared watched the war going on behind his girl’s eyes as Kay wagged a finger in her face. Sparrow wanted to fight back, but she was holding herself in check. Interesting. Maybe she wasn’t so solid in the Crowe clan after all.
“I'll give you two days. If you ain't broke him by then, I'm giving him to Jimbo. Got that? You know what’ll happen if yo
u don’t get it done.” Kay turned to him then, the curious look replaced with a gleam he remembered all too well from his youth. “You better sing to my Sparrow, boy, because Jimbo don't play. You’ll do well to remember that.”
Without another word, Kay lumbered from the room and slammed the front door of the trailer. Silence surrounded them, but the older woman’s presence still hung heavy in the room.
“Why would you work for a woman like her?” Jared bit out between clenched teeth.
Sparrow shook her head. “You wouldn't understand.”
“You're right. I don't understand, explain it to me.”
If possible, Sparrow’s face went even paler. “She owns this mountain and everyone on it.”
Chapter 5
If only he knew. Miss Kay didn't just own the people on this mountain, she owned the entire county. She owned the land. Grew the pot. Sold the drugs and alcohol. Controlled the prostitutes.
Now that the mines had shut down, the only way for mountain folks to earn a living around here was through her adoptive family. Whether they wanted to or not didn’t matter—those who disobeyed disappeared.
Sparrow hadn't scrimped and saved her entire life to throw away the meager existence she’d foraged for herself. Especially not for this man who’d brought her close to her first orgasm only minutes ago, but was now looking at her like she was covered in the maggots that had infested the corn crop.
Sparrow lifted her chin. She was a survivor. And she sure as hell wasn't going to follow in her mother's footsteps because she was too scared to take risks. It was time for her to take the bull by the horns, or the man by the cock, so to speak.
She had two days. Two days before Jimbo took over. Two days to solidify her position in management or end up on her back. Literally. Miss Kay had always made it perfectly clear to her what failure would mean. As soon as she made a mistake, she’d be forced to turn to her mama’s old profession—even if Jimbo had to tie her to the bed to make sure she followed orders.
God, what she wouldn’t give to be out of this mess. Miss Kay’s methods of maintaining control were decisive and brutal, but at least they were logical. If you stole or tried to double cross her, you would be punished or killed. Pretty simple way to keep folks in line.
But Jimbo – he was a loose cannon of destruction. He didn’t need a reason to torture other than the simple fact he liked it. He liked to hurt people. He liked it when they screamed and begged.
She barely held the shudder in check. Jimbo had always tormented her. Teased her. Hurt her. But recently his glances had turned darker, more sinister. He had other thoughts about Sparrow, and she had no interest in finding out what they were.
No way in hell would she let that happen. Sparrow studied the man on her bed. The paint on his face camouflaged his features and helped to conceal his expression, but not even a blind person could miss the loathing in his gaze right now.
As inexperienced as Sparrow was with men it was pretty obvious that the giant erection tenting his pants had completely wilted. She never backed down from a challenge, even one as big as the man tied to her bed. Sparrow approached him. “Where were we?”
He stared her down and she fought the instinct to cringe. Yes, the lust and desire from earlier had been replaced by revulsion. “We were in the middle of your pathetic attempt to seduce information out of me using your scrawny little body.”
His words pierced an arrow through her heart. The torments and teases from the local whores sprang up in her mind. Scrawny Sparrow, the virgin spinster. All because she hadn't given it up by the age of twelve.
Yes, she was used to being called scrawny—she’d always been the smallest and the skinniest in her adopted family. But that only meant she’d learned to scrap harder, and if he thought he could scare her away with those few words he had no idea just how scrappy she could get. Sparrow tapped a finger on her chin, as if contemplating what to do next. “My scrawny little body didn't seem to disgust you so much before. Especially when you latched on to my titties like a baby calf sucking at her mama’s teat.”
He dug his head down into the pillow, yanking and pulling against the rope. She didn't bother telling him it was a useless endeavor, that old man Squirrel had taught her to tie a knot so sturdy that not even a bear could rip itself free. But there was no reason she couldn't enjoy the show of those giant muscles flexing and straining.
“Girl, any man would suck on a pair of boobs if you shoved them in his face.” He yanked again, so hard the iron bed frame bent forward.
Sparrow smiled, because despite his words, that tent in his pants was rising again. She stayed right where she stood and shrugged out of the over shirt once more. He tracked her movements like a wild animal caught in a trap.
“I'm sure curious to see that face of yours.” Sparrow ran to the bathroom, soaped a wash cloth, and returned. There was something about him that was familiar and she wanted to find out. Problem was, she had a feeling he might bite her if she got too close right now.
Whatever Miss Kay had done to him—and she was sure the older woman had done something; that hadn’t been empty dislike in his eyes, but the black hatred that came of knowing a bad woman well—had been enough to set this man on fire. But regardless of that, regardless of whatever lay in his past, she would break him. And she would turn over whatever information he gave her to Miss Kay. Sparrow took a deep breath, stealing herself against any pity for him. It was either her or him, and she’d sure as shit choose herself any day of the week.
“I'm gonna wash that pretty face. I want you to hold real still, you hear?”
He snarled. Wounded animal? More like a rabid wolf. The direct approach definitely wouldn’t work. Maybe if she caressed him again, he’d calm down. Sparrow congratulated herself on the bright idea and tossed the washcloth to the floor. She approached him from the foot of the bed. His leg shot out with a sudden jerk, and she barely avoided being knocked down by his ferocious kick.
Holy shit. The man was deadly. Everywhere.
“Come close, I dare you.” Veins bulged is his neck and his eyes glowed with menace. He truly was a beast. A lump formed in Sparrow’s throat and she tried to swallow. Maybe the sexy, teasing man from before had all been the act. Maybe Miss Kay had simply set the beast free.
If her plan had any chance of working, he would have to cooperate. Or at least not try and kill her with his feet. She realized she would have to tie his feet to the bed, too, but each of his tree-trunk legs was bigger than she was. Even if she threw her whole body on top of him to pin down his legs, she’d be just as likely to get knocked out as she would to succeed. She needed help.
“Tell you what, I'll give you a few minutes to calm down. You sit tight now, okay?” Sparrow blew him a quick kiss, confident her rope would hold him in place. She ran from the room to tune out his shouting and eased out of her back door.
Sparrow headed straight out from her trailer into the woods, and then hooked a sharp right. She would know the path to Squirrel’s cabin with her eyes closed and walking backwards, but she needed to stay out of sight of the rest of the camp. Even if Miss Kay didn’t have eyes on her, Jimbo would. She could practically feel his creepy gaze crawling up her spine. He wouldn’t hesitate to strike if he sensed the least bit of weakness.
Miss Kay’s threats were legitimate, and she would most certainly carry them out if tested, but deep down Sparrow knew the older woman loved her. She’d protected Sparrow on many occasions and given her the chance to succeed in her business like one of the blood family. For which all of her adopted brothers hated her.
Too bad for them, Sparrow had flourished, learning to steal, cheat, and deal just like they did. She’d constructed her armor as the meanest and most accurate knife thrower in the state, and when tested, she’d backed it up on more than one occasion. But that didn’t mean she didn’t long for peace. She wanted to get her toe hold high up, above Jimbo’s reach, so she could garner the opportunity to take care of old Squirrel and herself.
>
Sparrow approached the old cabin out in the woods, making as much noise as possible to alert Squirrel to her approach. He should be taking a nap right about now, but he’d been known, in his less sober moments, to fire off a few rounds at anyone who trespassed on his property. And just because the sun hadn't set, didn't mean the old man wasn't wasted.
“Squirrel, you up?” Sparrow hollered from the edge of the clearing, careful to stay tucked up close to a giant pine tree. Rough bark scratched her arm, but she ignored it. She would need the protection of the trunk if Squirrel was in one of his moods.
“What you hidin’ out there in them woods for girl? Get your ass out here, you know I can't see that good no more.” The familiar gravelly voice calmed Sparrow’s nerves, and she stepped clear from the tree line just as Squirrel emerged from the old shack, a bottle of homemade brew in his hand.
“What you up to today?” Sparrow walked up onto the front porch, yanked the bottle from his hand, and took a swig. Sweet fire traced a burning trail down to her stomach, but she needed the liquid gold to help calm her nerves. She’d always had a steady hand, but having Jared tied up to her bed made her as nervous as a tom cat in a dog pen.
Squirrel’s black eyes almost disappeared in his weathered face from the way he narrowed them at her. His grey beard hung low, almost to his belly, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days. She would have to tread lightly, make sure he was on one of his lucid days. She couldn't take the risk of him accidentally putting a bullet in her captive's head because he’d gone into one of his spells.
“You know good and well what I've been doing. Same thing I do every day. Now why don't you tell me what you want? You know old Squirrel’ll help ya out.” Squirrel took the bottle from her and downed a couple of gulps, then wiped his mouth with his arm. He’d once told her that whiskey was like lifeblood to him, and he could get mighty rowdy if someone tried to take it away.
Men of Mercy: The Complete Story Page 55