by Amanda Boone
“Yes.” The madam’s mouth stretched into an evil mirror of the slender man’s smile. “But there is something that will make us even more money.”
Chapter Two
Sarah sat hunched over as far as she could to feel the heat from the fireplace. The madam had stripped her of everything but her bra and panties before cuffing her to the metal chair. If she didn’t get warmer soon she’d start shivering. She refused to do that in front of any of the men being brought in to inspect her.
She also needed a way out. Everything sharp from the room had been removed. If she tried to bolt they might shoot her, but only to cripple her. Uninjured she could still put up a fight. The prospect of being raped while she slowly bled from a gunshot wound made bile surge in her throat.
The next bidder escorted in stood tall and bulky-looking in black leather and expensive shades. His dark hair spiked out around a hard, rugged face that might have been handsome once. Now a nose broken too many times and a scattering of thin white scars all but shouted career criminal.
“Why I gotta come in here?” the thug demanded in a thick Southie accent.
“So you can inspect the prize, dear boy,” Benton said, making an elegant gesture. “Allow me to introduce our very poetically-named Sarah O’Hara. She is twenty-four years old, enjoys cheerleading, strawberry daiquiris, and long walks on the beach.”
As the thug removed his coat Sarah inspected him again. With his build and bone structure he definitely looked stronger and more dangerous than all the other bidders combined. If he won her, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
“She is also the sadly unloved daughter of Publishing’s misery prince Brian O’Hara,” Benton was saying. “As you can see she’s healthy, drug-free and mostly uninjured. Possibly virginal, too, although we can’t guarantee that. She dislocated our resident physician’s jaw when he tried to check. You’re a profession assassin?”
The thug grunted. “Hitman, yeah. So?”
“Rather convenient, considering.” Benton took out a stop watch. “You have five minutes to inspect her – and please, no pre-auction violations. Really not worth having your fingers crushed.” He started the stop watch and stepped out of the room.
The hitman loomed over Sarah, and then slowly removed his sunglasses. His right eye glittered a brilliant blue, and his left a vivid green. “Look familiar yet?”
Sarah didn’t know any killers with complete heterochromia, but that didn’t mean anything. As he crouched down in front of her she could smell him and hated herself for liking his scent. She flinched when he reached out to touch her face, and then tried to yell as he tugged down her gag.
He clamped his big hand over her lips to muffle her shriek. “I can wait for that.” He put his mouth by her ear. “It’s me, Rah-Rah. T.J. Terry Riley’s son. Remember, from grade school?”
Sarah nodded, and when he drew his hand away, whispered, “FBI or PD?”
He grinned as if she’d made a joke. “You’re still a riot, Rah.” The smile faded as he examined her bruised cheek. “You okay? Any of them mess with you?”
“Not yet.” She glanced at the door. “T.J., you have to get me out of here. Will you untie me?” If he would do that much, she could brain him and jump out through the window.
“I’m working on it, sweetheart. Just keep your eye on me, and be ready to move fast, okay?” He replaced her gag and kissed her brow as he stood up and slid on his shades.
A moment later Benton stepped back inside. “Before you join the others, I must inform you of the special conditions involved in this sale.”
“What conditions?” T.J. demanded.
The European walked over and stroked Sarah’s head like a fond pet owner. “If yours is the winning bid, you will have all night to fondle, torture and otherwise violate our dear girl in our dungeon. But to protect me and my associates, you will be filmed while you’re amusing yourself.”
T.J. grunted. “Anything else?”
“Oh, yes.” Benton smiled with serene benevolence. “At dawn, you must kill her.”
#
As T.J. entered the private bar he noted that the competition had dwindled down to two. Benton’s special conditions had chased off everyone except a career knee-capper with crazy eyes, and a middle-aged woman dressed in a pink twin set and pearls. T.J. sat at the table between them and stretched out his long legs.
“My, aren’t you a big boy?” Twin Set said, scanning him with an admiring eye before giving her salt-and-pepper coiffure a discreet pat. “Made, or freelance?”
“Loser,” the thug on T.J.’s other side said. “The chickie is mine, man.” He leaned over to eye Twin Set. “And what’s with you, church lady? Winner’s supposed to rape her, and you ain’t even got a dick.”
Twin Set heaved a regretful sigh. “Oh ye of little imagination.”
The bordello’s madam came in with a struggling Sarah and shoved her to her knees in front of T.J. and the other bidders. “You are all ready, good. We will open the bidding at five hundred.”
“Dollars?” the thug asked, laughing the word. “Shit, we’ll be here all freaking night.”
“She means five hundred thousand, dear,” Twin Set advised him as she raised her hand.
“Six hundred,” T.J. said, watching Sarah’s face. She’d outgrown her freckles and pigtails, and he didn’t remember her eyes being quite so dark brown. She also seemed very focused for a terrified hostage, which made him wonder if they’d drugged her.
From that point the auction continued briskly. The thug grew angrier with every opposing bid, and when Twin Set offered two point five million for Sarah, he jumped out of his chair.
“What are you, FBI or something?” Before the woman could reply, he turned on Consuela. “This is bull. She ain’t got that kind of cash on her.”
“She does in the Caymans,” Consuela told him.
“You’re still using currency, dear?” Twin Set clucked her tongue at the third bidder. “Where do you buy your weapons? Wal-Mart?”
T.J. saw Sarah shift on her knees, bracing herself for a blow. When she turned her head to watch the thug he saw the two birthmarks under her right ear that she shared with her father. Vampire bites, she’d called them when they were kids. Although she hardly resembled the little girl he once knew, she was definitely Sarah.
“I have two point five,” the madam said once the other bidders stopped bickering.
“Three,” T.J. said.
Consuela’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll have to see some assurance of that, amigo.” She watched as T.J. removed a sizable blue diamond from his pocket and handed it to her. “Flawless?” When he nodded she gave it back. “The bid is three. Do I hear three point five?”
The thug cursed everyone as he stalked out of the bar.
Twin Set pursed her lips. “How many of those did you bring, my dear?”
T.J. regarded her steadily. “Enough.”
“Well, since I like you, I’ll drop out now. Go content myself with some young morsel that I don’t have to strangle afterward.” The older woman reached over and patted his hand. “If you’re ever in Newark, stop by Martha’s Chocolates. We make the best penuche on the east coast.”
As Twin Set left the bar, Consuela hauled Sarah to her feet and held out her hand. Once T.J. placed the diamond on her palm, the madam shoved her hostage at him.
“Come with me,” the madam said. “I’ll show you to the torture room.”
Chapter Three
Sarah ignored the nightmare cell she’d been shoved in and focused on the man saving her life. T.J. stood talking quietly to Consuela, who had sent his diamond to be checked. No sign of a rescue team yet. Getting out would be a bitch, too. The basement dungeon had no windows and only one exit. The sole avenue of escape meant going back up through the bordello. If T.J. meant to get her out, he’d need explosives – or a wrecking ball of a ruse.
Unless he wasn’t planning on getting her out at all.
The snotty European appeared to murmur something to Consuela, who be
amed up at the hitman. “Absolutely flawless. Worth a bit more than your final bid, too, amigo.”
“Consider the overage a tip, Señora.” T.J. jerked his head toward the stairs. “Just make sure nobody interrupts me before dawn. I want the full night with her.”
“Enjoy,” Benton said, and took the madam’s arm to lead her back upstairs.
Sarah held out her bound wrists to T.J., who walked past her to look through the bars at the video camera set up outside on a tripod. He then swore softly as he made a complete circuit of the cell and then gave her a direct look, shaking his head a little.
“I know I can’t escape,” she told him, her heart sinking. “You paid a lot of money to get to me. So what’s first? Rape or torture?”
“What, you’re in a hurry?” He grabbed her and dragged her over to the manacles chained to one wall. “Let’s have some foreplay first.”
Sarah resisted enough to make it look real, but once he shoved her back against the bricks, she went still. T.J. pinned her there, his hands stroking her sides as he buried his face in her tangled hair. She braced herself for the mauling she expected.
“I’m for real,” T.J. whispered. “I won’t touch you unless it’s for show.”
She believed him now, primarily because he had no more reason to lie. “So how do we get out?”
“I was going to signal my guys, but my transmitter’s jammed,” he said, keeping his voice low. “She must have switched on a signal damper. But when my guys don’t hear from me, they’ll come any way. They’re good. They’ll get us out.”
“How long will they wait before they come?” she muttered back.
He lifted his head to look down at her, his gaze bleak. “Until sunrise. So we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
“The madam won’t watch us, but Eurotrash will,” Sarah warned him. “He asked me to scream for him.”
T.J. muttered something vile and strode over to the bars, reaching out to yank the tripod over to him. “The only one she screams for is me, pal,” he told the lens and pressed a button on the side of the camera.
“I put it on mute,” he told her in a normal voice as he came back to her. “They can still see us, though, so we’ll just have to fake it, Rah-Rah.”
“For seven hours?” She felt like screaming now. “T.J., these people aren’t fools. Kink is their bent, and sex is their business.”
“Yeah, well, getting hostages out of hell is mine.” He gripped her waist and kissed her ear before he said, “Come on. It’ll be fun. Like when we played cops and robbers, and you frisked me behind your Dad’s boathouse. My turn to be the arresting officer.”
She almost laughed out loud. “That was a long time ago.”
“You were so cute as a cop.” T.J. lifted her bound wrists over his head, hanging her arms around his neck. “You stayed alive this long, and now I’m here. We’ll make it out of this, sweetheart.”
Sarah could feel the massive bulge of his erection now, and it made her go hot and achy between her legs. That he could arouse her so easily dismayed and thrilled her. “But there’s a good chance we won’t.”
“So we check out together.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Better than dying alone, huh?”
Sarah saw the loneliness in his mismatched eyes and felt the echo of it in her heart. The extreme danger they were in, and what they were expected to do, made the next decision very simple. “I haven’t had sex in almost two years. You?”
He thought about it. “With someone else in the room? August.” He saw her expression and moved his shoulders. “I’ve been busy.”
“I want to do it for real,” she told him. “I want to have sex with you. Right now.”
His confined penis twitched against her, but he shook his head. “I don’t mind dying, sweetheart, but I’d rather not burn for all eternity.”
“I’ll be with you,” she promised. “We can burn together.” She kissed him.
T.J. didn’t move as she pressed her lips over his and parted them with the tip of her tongue. His chest billowed as she tasted him, and his hands tightened on her hips as she stroked his tongue with hers.
When she finally drew back, his blue eye blazed as hot as his green. “You’d really go to hell with me?”
“We’re already there, T.J.,” she said softly. “Now show me some heaven.”
T.J. reached behind her to unfasten her bra. “There’s an island where a guy I know lives. Ocean’s like liquid emeralds and sapphires. Sand like powdered sugar. Dolphins swim with you. I wish we there right now.”
The tender touch of his hands on her breasts made her shiver. “Is it hot?”
“Yeah. The good kind. Like how you got me now.” He tugged open his shirt, sending buttons flying and brought her up against him. “Oh, damn, Sarah. You feel so good.”
His rock-hard muscle against her soft mounds made Sarah’s nipples tighten. “What are the people like?”
“Dark. Beautiful. Voices like music.” He tugged her panties down and used the toe of his boot to slide them to her ankles. “I don’t want to do you against a wall. I want you under me.”
Sarah glanced at the options around the room. The autopsy table made her sick, and the mats covering the floor looked too thin. “Spanking bench.”
T.J. hoisted her up in his arms and carried her over to the long, narrow cushioned bench. “You’ll have to hold onto me,” he told her as he lowered her down onto her back. “So you don’t roll off.”
Sarah looped her wrists over his head, and twined her legs around the back of his strong thighs. “Not a problem.”
T.J. bent down to kiss her as he unzipped. “Got to keep my clothes on for when the cavalry shows,” he muttered. “Next time, we both get naked. On the sands. Under the sun.”
She loved how he wouldn’t give up. “Tell me about it.”
His hand shook as he fisted his erect shaft. “We’ll go to the islands,” he murmured as he moved in and pressed his heavy cockhead to her slick folds. “Look at me. Yeah, like that. We’re on the beach now, sweetheart. You and me and a towel. The breeze whispering over us. You can hear the waves washing in and out. Can you smell the water?”
Sarah’s eyelids fluttered as she felt him press in. “Yeah. It smells wonderful. Oh, T.J.”
He breached her and then brought his hands up to stroke his thumbs over her puckered nipples. “I’ve just rubbed you down with oil. Your whole body feels as hot and soft as your pussy is now, and you smell like coconut and flowers, and so do I. We’ve got all day to do nothing but make love on the beach.”
“Make love?” The thick invasion of his shaft made Sarah’s back bow. “Is that what you’re doing to me there?”
“I tried to keep it just to sex, but you’re too sweet. I want your heart, too, baby.” He hissed in a breath as their body hair meshed. “Whenever we’re naked on the island, my cock is inside you. But I’m always in you, where it matters. Hold on tight, sweetheart. I’ve got to fuck you now.”
He drew out and pumped back into her, as smooth and relentless as piston. Sarah gasped as his thrust sent a burst of sensation through her sex and belly to flood her breasts. “T.J.”
“Right here, Sarah. I’m right here.” His hips caressed her inner thighs as he began working in and out of her. “Look at me, sweetheart, yes, I know. I know how much you need it. You’re so tight and wet on my cock.”
Sarah felt his body heat sinking into her, as hot and inescapable as his long, hard thrusts. The dungeon and video camera and the rest of their hell dwindled to a distant gray blur. His tough face and mismatched jeweled eyes became her world, and the delicious friction of his shaft inside her clenching softness their universe.
A dark bliss billowed inside her as he put his mouth to her breasts, nuzzling and licking her. Sweat from his brow mingled with the trickle between her mounds, adding a salty note to the musky scent rising between them.
She gripped his short hair in her fingers and urged his face up to hers. “Promise me,” she said,
her voice unsteady. “Promise me you’ll go there. No matter what.”
He nodded, never looking away from her eyes. “With you. Only with you.”
Tears welled in her eyes even as the pleasure crashed over her. Sarah cried out as he plunged into her, giving her every inch of his girth as she shook and wept. Her contractions set off a series of slow, thick pulses from his penis, and he groaned with each one as he pumped her full of his seed.
T.J. held onto her, his shoulders trembling, his face hot against her neck. “Hello, heaven.”
Chapter Four
Several hours later T.J. leaned back against a brick wall. Sarah lay plastered on top of him, naked and dozing a little. His still-hard cock twitched inside her, eager to go for another round. T.J. didn’t know how many times they’d made love. He’d stopped counting after three.
His watch told him they had another hour before dawn. Mike and his guys were probably already outside the bordello, deciding on how they’d storm the place. Since the madam’s security consisted of a dozen young cartel thugs, T.J. figured they’d have little problem reaching him and Sarah.
Unless the plan they’d spent all night putting together worked first.
T.J. had kept an eye on the door at the top of the stairs all night, and as it opened, he gave Sarah a little shake. “Show time,” he told her. “You ready for this?”
She nodded and pulled aside his collar.
“I’m sorry to make you do something so gruesome,” T.J. murmured. “But we’ve got to make it look real.”
“I’ve done worse, trust me.” With a gentle press of her lips to his wound, which had reopened sometime between round two and three, she transferred his blood to her mouth. “Besides, I’ve already been drenched with most of your other body fluids.”
“There is that.” He smeared it between her upper lip and nostrils to make it appear more realistic. She disengaged their sexes, shifting down to place her face in his lap. As he tangled his fingers in her hair he felt her kiss his reddened shaft.
“You can fake this one, sweetheart,” he murmured to her as he watching Benton descend the stairs. He felt her nip him. “Or not.”