Taken and Tamed

by Kallista Dane

  His movements were angry, aggressive, as though he were taking a lifetime of frustration out on the logs. Fear came flooding back, along with the memory of those big rough hands holding her down and spanking her ass until she cried.

  “Whatever he’s so cranky about, better he takes it out on those logs than on me,” Cass muttered to herself, backing away from the window. With any luck, the next time she laid eyes on him, she’d be on the witness stand and he’d be sitting next to his attorney in the front row of a courtroom.

  She yanked a thick pair of socks over her bare feet, stuffed them into the black dress shoes and ran for the door. Even with thick socks and extra padding in the toes, she nearly left the shoes behind with every step. She felt like one of those clowns in the circus, not so much running as flopping along. She realized it would have been faster to put the shoes on when she got to the edge of the porch.

  Once outside she didn’t stop until she was crouched out of sight behind the back bumper. Frantically, she felt for the key. Oh, God. It wasn’t there. What if he’d found it, taken it like he’d taken her shoes? Just when she was about to cry with frustration and despair, her hand closed around the metal box.

  She listened for a moment to make sure she still heard the rhythmic thunk of the axe before she opened the door and slid behind the wheel, closing it softly. She put her foot on the gas pedal, then swore, pulling off the stupid clown shoes and tossing them in the back seat. Turning the key, she floored the car, backing almost all the way into the porch before she hit the brakes, slammed into forward and took off.

  She’d gone only a few hundred yards before she found herself hitting the brakes again. She’d never driven in the mountains before and even if she had, this steep dirt road would have scared her to death. Driving as fast as she dared, Cass rounded a curve and gasped. This stretch of road seemed even narrower than she remembered it from yesterday, running between a wall of rock on the right side and the edge of a cliff on the left. She slowed to a crawl, trying not to let her eyes stray to the dizzying drop-off as she gave herself a pep talk. The road would get better soon. If memory served her, it widened out again just around the blind curve ahead.

  She rounded the next curve and screamed, slamming on the brakes and wrenching the wheel hard to the right as the front wheels skidded toward the cliff. Zander stood in front of her, blocking the road. Blood oozed from dozens of scratches on his bare chest, mingling with the sweat. The axe dangled from one huge paw. Cass stifled a hysterical bout of laughter. He looked like the battered villain who just won’t die from the final scene of a blockbuster action flick.

  He took a step forward. Frantically, she locked all the doors, then looked around. There was nowhere to go. She couldn’t back up and even if she did, it would just put her back on top of the mountain in front of the cabin. The only way out was to floor it and run over him.

  She tried. Really, she did. At least that’s what she told herself afterwards. She put one foot on the brake and the other on the accelerator, revving the engine hard, bracing herself for the moment of impact. But he never flinched. Just stared at her, daring her to kill him in cold blood. No trace of warmth in his piercing blue eyes now.

  He walked toward the driver’s side, didn’t even glance down at the hundred-foot drop just inches from his feet. Heart pounding, head slumped in defeat, she unlocked the door and slid over to the passenger’s seat.

  Chapter Five

  He got in without a word and took the car another quarter mile down the steep lane until he found a spot wide enough to turn around. It took a while, backing up only a couple of feet at a time, working the car around slowly until he could point it back uphill. The whole time he never said a word, never even looked at her. But his hands clenched the steering wheel so hard, she thought he’d crush it.

  When they got back to the clearing, he turned the car off and sat slumped over the wheel for what seemed like forever, unmoving. Finally he spoke without turning his head.

  “Inside. Now.”

  “I…”

  The look he gave her nearly stopped her heart. “I. Said. Get. Inside. Now.”

  Quaking with fear, she reached into the back seat and slipped on his shoes before opening the car door and heading back into the cabin. He must have heard the car leaving and made a mad dash through the woods to cut her off around that curve without even stopping to grab his shirt. Judging from the sight of him, he’d charged halfway down the mountain straight through more than one tangle of nasty thorns to beat her there.

  Cass knew one thing for sure—the dozens of bloody scratches crisscrossing his chest wouldn’t improve his mood any. She stepped inside the cabin and kicked off his shoes.

  He stormed in, slamming the door behind him.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  She started to back away, her eyes wide.

  “Take off your clothes or I’ll rip them off you in shreds.”

  There was no hint of desire in his eyes this time. Just cold fury. Hands trembling, she took off her black jacket. Stalling for time, she folded it and laid it carefully on the couch. One glance at his face told her his anger was mounting with every second. She put aside the idea of another alluring striptease and pulled off her t-shirt, then unzipped the black pants and let them drop to the floor.

  She stood in front of him once again in her bra and panties, with his thick white socks coming nearly to her knees. I must look ridiculous, she thought.

  You self-absorbed idiot! Cass’s rational mind took over, berating her. You’re facing a criminal who looks like he’s in a homicidal rage and all you can think about is how you look in his sweat socks? You think the fashion police are going to issue a citation to your corpse?

  The thought set off a wave of hysterical giggles she tried desperately to suppress. Zander’s hands were clenched into huge fists held tight against his body, as though they’d develop a mind of their own and reach out to strangle her if he wasn’t careful. His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward.

  Hastily, Cass unsnapped the bra and let it fall. Then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of the flimsy lace panties and pulled them down, sliding off the socks at the same time.

  “Bend over the arm of the couch.”

  Cass scrapped Plan A. There’d be no chance to drape herself over his lap and wiggle seductively against his groin this time with the hope of getting his little head to override his big one. Half a dozen hesitant steps took her to the couch. She bent forward, shivering a little as her skin made contact with the cold leather.

  “Cross your arms in front of you and lay your head on them.”

  She heard him walking across the floor, then rummaging in the kitchen. Cass sneaked a look. He had his back to her, reaching for a wooden cutting board near the stove. It was oblong, maybe ten by twelve inches, with a short wooden handle on one end that had a hole in the center so it could hang on the wall.

  He headed for the couch, slapping the board against his palm with every step.

  “I warned you.” His voice cold. Cold and hard. “I told you if you obeyed the rules, you wouldn’t get punished. I said I’d let you go as soon as I could.”

  He was right behind her now.

  “But you didn’t listen.”

  She heard the swish, then let out a scream as the paddle connected with her ass. Cass jerked up, but his hand shoved her back down. Fingers splayed across the middle of her back, he held her firmly in place as he smacked her again.

  “You just had to disobey. So now you’re getting an old-fashioned ass whuppin’, as my granny would have said.” He gave her another harsh whack and she screamed again. “Then you’re going to stand in the corner for a while with your hands behind your head, like a naughty little girl. And I’m taking away all your clothes. From now on, you’ll be naked. Trust me, you don’t want to head through the woods that way. Those thorns hurt like hell.”

  He stopped to deliver a volley of harsh smacks. “
That’s for the scratches all over me. You’re lucky I don’t give you a whack for every one.”

  Cass howled. With her bottom still tender from last night’s spanking, every fierce wallop sent a shudder of pain through her. Zander kept up the lecture, punctuating his words now and then with an extra-hard thwack. She gave up trying to be brave and dissolved into wracking sobs.

  Finally she heard a thud as the board dropped to the floor. Cass dropped to her knees, cowering in a fetal position.

  “Get over there. In the corner, facing the wall. And you stay there until I give you permission to come out.”

  She couldn’t move. Hands covering her head, she huddled on the floor, shaking.

  “Get up.” He grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her feet.

  She flinched as though he’d struck her.

  Zander swore and pulled her roughly into his arms. “Dammit, woman! Why can’t you do as you’re told?” He held her tight against him and she felt his heart thudding in his chest. He pushed her away just as quickly and marched her into the corner by the fireplace, placing her hands on her head. Turning her face to the wall, he left her there.

  Cass stood with her hands laced together on top of her head, tears streaming down her face. Her bottom burned, her head ached from crying so hard. Gradually her sobs turned into sniffles. She heard water running in the bathroom and Zander came out. He had a cold cloth in his hand. He turned her to face him as he wiped away her tears, then folded the cloth and held it against her forehead.

  She slumped against him. Still shirtless, he’d washed off the blood on his chest and arms and his body was cold. She began shivering. Once she did, it was as though an earthquake hit her inside. Her body shook uncontrollably. He swore again and picked her up in his arms. Carrying her to the bed, he laid her on it and folded her into the threadbare quilt. Then he got in bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her gently until the shaking subsided.

  “Shock.”

  She stared up at him drowsily. “What?”

  “That reaction was shock. The irrational terror even after it was all over, the uncontrollable shivering. I’ve seen it before. PTSD.”

  “I waw… was never in the army.” Her words slurred.

  “You don’t have to be in combat to get PTSD. Any traumatic event can leave you with the symptoms. Later, even the smallest thing sets it off again. I’m sorry, Cass. I didn’t realize how bad it was. Sleep now. I’ll see if I can find anything else for us to eat and when you wake up, I’ll make you another pot of coffee.”

  Cass nestled against his warmth. “More of your coffee? You really want to punish me. Could you just spank me again instead?”

  To her surprise, he actually laughed. Just before she drifted off, Cass swore she felt his lips brush against her forehead.

  She opened her eyes to find the room dark. Somehow she’d managed to sleep until nightfall. She sat up, wincing as her bottom made contact with the bed. Zander was nowhere to be seen. Wrapping the quilt around her body, she struggled to her feet.

  He wasn’t in the bathroom or the kitchen alcove or up in the loft. A fire crackled in the hearth. Maybe he’d gone out for more wood. It was a little frightening to wake up all alone in a deserted cabin in the middle of nowhere. She kept her head turned away from the dark wall of glass, her mind filling with images from every scary movie she’d ever seen.

  She tiptoed to the front door and opened it, planning to call out for him. Then she froze. He was talking to someone, his voice hushed.

  “…still out like a light. I had no idea. Nothing in her dossier about it or Lord knows I’d have done something different back there.”

  There was silence, then he spoke again.

  “Carter is clean. Otherwise he’d have been here by now. He knows where the place is, we were both up here once with Dave during hunting season. It’s time to try closer to home. Yeah. Jacobs. I know, I know. Me either. But she’s the only one left.”

  More silence.

  “You’ll be here tomorrow to take her out? She’ll be royally pissed but you have to keep her locked up somewhere until it’s over. Yeah, that sounds good. Hey, do me a favor? Bring me some grub. Anything. I’m so hungry I’m ready to rustle up a pot of roadkill stew. Thanks, I will.”

  * * *

  Zander opened the door with one hand, his other arm gripping a load of firewood. He stopped dead. Cass stood in the center of the living room, her body tightly wrapped in the quilt, hands on her hips.

  “Okay, Mr. Coleman, if that’s your name. Time to quit the bullshit. Who are you and why are we really here?”

  He opened his mouth but before he could get a word out, she’d gone off on a rant.

  “I know you’re not a stone-cold enforcer for some mob boss. You’d have gotten rid of me a long time ago. And that escape in Atlanta—way too easy. It was obviously planned. I just happened to walk back in unexpectedly. You’ve been improvising ever since.”

  She marched toward him, but her aggressive stance was doused somewhat when the quilt slipped down, baring one firm tit. She caught the sudden glint in his eyes and grabbed the hem, pulling it back up and clutching it tighter around her, all the while without missing a beat.

  “So what is it? You’re some kind of undercover agent? You’ve got a…”

  “Yes.”

  His response stopped her in her tracks. She gaped at him, mouth open like a fish.

  “Yes?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “Yes? That’s all you’ve got to say? You dragged me out here into the middle of nowhere, threatened me, stripped me naked, spanked me—twice— and practically starved me. And when I finally figure out you’ve been lying to me all along, all you can do is say yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  She ignored his grin. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this, mister. You had me pegged right with whoever you were talking to. By the way, whatever happened to ‘there’s no cell service here’? I am royally pissed. I’m going to charge you with kidnapping a private citizen, for one. Then there’s assault. And, and…”

  “Don’t forget fingering your ass last night until you came. I’m sure there’s a statute somewhere to fit that. Sodomy, maybe? No, for that charge I’d have had to use my cock. And by then you were begging me to ram that into your pussy.”

  She spluttered for a moment, enraged. Unable to find words, she resorted to throwing things at him. First, the pillow off the couch. Then she scooped up the wooden cutting board off the floor and lobbed that. He ducked and it went sailing over his head and thunked against the wall.

  “Don’t you dare try to weasel your way out of this! You… you asshole! You had me scared to death.”

  His grin widened. “Yeah, you were so scared you spent three hours outlining the best-seller you were hoping to get out of this whole thing. I read through your notes while you were asleep.”

  “That’s how I cope. When I’m stressed or angry or depressed or worried, I write. It’s better than getting hooked on crystal meth.”

  “Those are your only two choices?”

  “Quit trying to change the subject. You owe me an explanation.” She plunked down in the middle of the couch, gathering the quilt around her, and glared at him. “Talk.”

  “You’re right. We planned the escape. The security guard was a plant. He was the only one in on it. Nobody else, not Marshal Jacobs or Agent Smith—none of them.”

  He started pacing back and forth in front of her as he laid out the story.

  “There’s someone dirty working for the witness protection program. Four prospective witnesses have either vanished or been found murdered in the last year. All of them connected to organized crime. So far, we’ve been able to keep their connection to the program out of the news while we conducted our investigation. It seems Big Tony has somebody inside the U.S. Marshals service on his payroll, leaking their locations and new identities.

  “I’m with the FBI. The head of th
e marshals asked us to step in because he didn’t know who he could trust in his own organization. None of the marshals knew I was there undercover. They all believed I’d been one of Tony’s enforcers.”

  He stopped and looked into Cass’s eyes for the first time. “The interview with you? That was my boss’s idea. He wanted to get a buzz going inside the Atlanta office, make sure everyone knew one of Tony’s trusted men had turned on him. Zander Coleman is an alias. Tony doesn’t have anyone by that name working for him. So he wouldn’t know which of his men had broken ranks and was about to sell him out.

  “We figured if I tried to escape, whoever was on Tony’s payroll inside the marshal’s service would grab the opportunity. They could take me out, even do it right in front of other marshals, since I’m now a criminal on the loose. So I had on a bulletproof vest under my tailored suit.”

  “But then I walked back in.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. You screwed up our plan. I couldn’t risk a shootout with you there, so I improvised. Believe me, I planned to drop you off as soon as possible. But there didn’t seem to be a good time. And after all the effort we put into this plan, I hated to throw it all away by having you go straight to the nearest cop and get me busted once you were free.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me the truth once we got here?”

  He shook his head. “That could have been even more dangerous—for you. If the rogue marshal managed to track us here and you acted like we were on a friendly basis, he or she might kill you too. If the whole operation went south, as long as you believed I was the bad guy, you’d welcome whoever shot me as your rescuer. They’d never expect me to confide in a hostage. You’d be no threat to them.”

  “So I’m supposed to believe that you tied me up and spanked me for my own good?”

  He made an x across his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

  “I just have one problem with that. I don’t think Boy Scouts fuck the little old ladies after they help them across the street.”