by Hazel Parker
Alternatively, I could have taken her right to the plane, but this close to his yacht being ambushed, I was sure that Snake would have some retaliatory measures set up. And while Snake generally stayed within the bounds of whatever I did, he was more capable of getting unhinged than I was.
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me? Or are you going to dump me in the middle of the ocean?”
God, this girl needs a lesson. Or two. Or five. Preferably all night.
“No, I cannot. But I am not going to kill you. I am here to rescue you.”
If I got her right to the airplane, then I’d need to prepare for the worst. Traps, anti-aircraft measures—
“Did my mother really hire you?”
God, if this bitch wasn’t my client, I’d be having my way with her so hard right now to shut her the fuck up.
You know, Scott, it was her mother that hired you, not her. So…
Don’t you fucking dare. Rule three. Rule three. Rule three.
“Yes, she did,” I said. “You know, the more you talk, the more difficult it will be to get you to safety.”
“That’s great. You know what else would be great? Warmth. Not wondering if I’m about to get raped. An ETA of when I’ll be home—”
“Christ, shut up,” I said. I took a breath. “I will be getting you home as soon as I can. The men I took you from are going to be furious that I snatched you up under their noses.”
“Seems like they should be more pissed that you kicked all their asses.”
I brushed off the compliment.
“We need to get you somewhere safe, out of sight and out of reach of them,” I said. “And then we can call your mom.”
“And how long will that be?”
God almighty, this girl just didn’t understand what a straight answer was, did she?
So I just shut the hell up and kept my focus on steering the boat southwest. Words wouldn’t get this little Kaylie to safety any faster.
“I’m cold,” she groaned. “It’s freezing. Seriously, the water makes me fucking shiver!”
I bit my lip. I was in control, but I was being an ass.
But I was also being realistic. As nice as it would have been to stop the boat and find something for her or give her something, there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do. What, was I going to stop at some mirage of a gas station and get her a coat out here in the middle of the ocean?
And though I wasn’t enough of an ass to say this out loud—to say nothing of rule three—seeing her in her pajamas, with her goosebumps and rock-hard nipples visible through her shirt…well, fuck, it was nice when the client was as hot as anything you’d ever seen in your life.
I had to constantly remind myself of rule three, to the point that I was starting to wonder why I’d ever fucking implemented it. The answer was easy—nothing could get in the way of the mission, and nothing got in the way of men’s rational thinking quite like hot pussy could—but when the thought of it became more overwhelming than the actual consumption of it…well, fuck.
This little Kaylie brat was going to be the biggest test I’d ever had, and I didn’t mean of my DOM agent skills.
I meant of my dom skills.
“Hey, asshole! Are you going to kidnap me just so I could freeze to death? Or are you going to be a gentleman kidnapper and make sure I don’t die?”
“You are not going to die,” I said, though I had a strong urge to spit a little fire back at her. “Stop acting like a little princess. We’ll be there soon.”
“Forgive me for wanting my basic needs met!” she said. “I am not sure if you are familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, but being physically comfortable is pretty well near the base, and—”
“And so is safety,” I grumbled.
Nevertheless, more so she would shut the hell up than out of any kindness or chivalry, I reached back behind me, grabbed a life jacket I’d brought in case shit got really ugly, and tossed it to her.
“Put it on.”
“I can’t see!”
“You’ve never worn a life jacket before? You can’t figure out what goes where?”
Kaylie groaned loudly—too loud for it to be anything other than for drama—but eventually put on the damn jacket. I didn’t want to be a dick to her, but I also didn’t want her to think we were friends. Certainly, nothing even further than that.
It was not my job to be nice. It was my job to get her to safety. I was sure Mother Charleston could afford the world’s most expensive therapists to work on little Kaylie if she had to.
“It’s so fucking cold,” she said. “Do you have anything warmer I could wear?”
God, the very thought of her changing in front of me, revealing that curvy, perky body…
I never got distracted on my missions, but I was sitting at the base of my boat with my dick so hard it would have pressed through the thickest wetsuit man had ever created. I was now at the point that once we got to shore, we were not going to go to the plane at first.
Not because of what I feared of Snake. Not because I wanted to have a moment alone with Kaylie, though I could not lie, that very thought was overpowering.
No, I needed to find one of my many Cayman lovers and just take my raw energy out on her, unleash everything I had stored up inside of me. If I couldn’t have Kaylie, I’d imagine one of the lovers as her.
Fortunately, I had a litany of options. High-end escorts, connections in local areas…I was damn fucking picky about what I liked, mostly because I was a man of routine, but in my spot, I had options.
And fucking Kaylie Charleston is exactly the kind of girl I’d want.
Just to fuck, though. Nothing more. I can’t live this life and have her.
“Hey! Asshole! Are you still talking to me?”
“What do you want?”
“Well, you’re clearly not listening to me anymore,” she groused. “Do you have anything warmer I can wear?”
I bit my lip and sighed.
“Not here,” I said.
But when we get to the safe house, it’s going to be really dangerous for me. Real fucking dangerous.
“So what? When I get home? When I get to land? When I—”
“Shut the hell up, and maybe you’ll get a chance later.”
As it turned out, though, “later” wasn’t that much further off. The island I’d landed on was finally coming back into view.
And good thing, too. The moon had risen to the spot where it was providing a good chunk of light, and I could see her creamy white skin and her unusually plump pink lips. The longer I stared at those lips, the more I thought about them wrapped around my cock, my hands firmly grabbing her head, commanding her to move as I wanted her to.
We arrived at land. I looked back. I couldn’t see any helicopters or any boats in pursuit of us, but that only meant that they still had the element of surprise.
“Did we make it?” she said. “Is this the part where you take me and throw me onto the beach for someone to find in daylight?”
That first part is mighty tempting. If it gets her to shut the hell up, I might just do it.
Careful, Scott. You’re really playing with life and death in a dangerous manner right now.
“We are on land,” I said. “But we are far from safe. You need to come with me and stop asking questions.”
“Why?”
God, this girl. She’s got me so hard and so annoyed.
“Because if you’re lucky,” I said. If we’re lucky, “we’ll be to safety soon.”
And from there…
I decided I’d be good. For now.
It was all that I could really promise. And even then, I wasn’t sure with this girl’s curves and sass that I could keep this commitment for too long.
Chapter 6: Kaylie
I was pretty sure I was safe.
I was also definitely sure that I was in the hands of the world’s biggest dick.
I mean, for fuck’s sake, I’d just spent God knows how man
y days and nights captive on the yacht belonging to a man named Snake, wondering when the moment that I’d get punished would be, and this guy’s response was “Shut the hell up?”
If gunfire was coming down on us, I’d understand. If I could hear helicopters or jet skis roaring at us, yeah, I wasn’t stupid; I’d get down and be safe. But none of that was around.
The first thing I was going to do as soon as I saw him was slap him as hard as I fucking could, and then maybe dunk him in the nearest body of water. I wanted him to know how much the cold stung, how much I shivered, how much I wanted to throw up.
And that was being generous! I couldn’t take him back out into the Atlantic Ocean, put a blindfold on him, and drive a boat at top speed. I couldn’t punish him like he was punishing me for no good reason.
Fuck, what a dick!
But fuck, did he sure sound sexy, in control, and powerful. Maybe in a different time…
Maybe when we got to safety…
I felt his firm hand grab my arm and pull me.
“Watch your step,” he said.
“I would if I could actually watch anything!” I snapped back.
The man did not respond. I took some awkward steps forward but found sand underneath my feet shortly thereafter. I wanted to drop down and kiss the sand, so happy to be back on land. But the man was not giving me that option; his hand had never left my arm, and he was dragging me further up the beach.
“Where are we?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
I groaned. Did this guy think he was James Bond or some shit?
“Let me guess. If you tell me, you’ll have to kill me.”
“Yes.”
Wow.
He said that with the ease of someone saying yes to an appetizer. Fuck me.
“We are almost at your destination, and there, you will have your own room and bathroom.”
Well, at least I have that going for me.
“A chance to shower,” I said as if the opportunity would be akin to having an all-day buffet of whatever I wanted without fear of getting fat.
“Yes. However, you will have to stay in your room and bathroom and remain there for your own protection. The bathroom does have a shower, fresh clothes, some trail mix, food, and water. I—”
“This sounds amazing!”
“Shut up and listen!”
Was I supposed to be afraid of what had just been said? Because while the man spoke with furor, I was so giddy at the prospect of a decent space that I was still smiling. I probably looked like a huge asshole doing so, but, oh well. I could be forgiven, I figured.
“You need to stay there, and you cannot leave under any circumstances.”
“Any circumstances?”
“Do not test me, Kaylie.”
That was the first time he’d actually said my name out loud. And the way he said it—authoritatively, like he was casting a spell that made me do whatever he wanted with the utterance of my name—was so fucking hot and sexy.
“Yes, sir,” I said, albeit with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
“When we get there, I will bring you a phone to call your mother. But I will place the phone outside your door and will inform you when you can grab it. That is an order and not to be questioned.”
“Jesus, are you that afr—”
I stopped.
I heard it.
Helicopters.
And, judging by the way the man tensed and tightened his grip, I didn’t think that they were helicopters that were coming to our assistance.
“Shit, we’ve got to go,” the man said. “Don’t say a fucking word.”
Fear rose in me. I could feel my stomach tensing all over again. At least when I’d been kidnapped the last time, it had happened while I was unconscious for the most part. But this? I was getting to experience this first—
“Ow!” I said as the man yanked on my arm hard, too hard for me to be ready for it. “Take it easy, asshole.”
“Watch your mouth, or I’ll slap it shut for you.”
Boy, this guy…
I puckered my lips out and smacked them, taunting him to slap them shut for me. I wish I could have seen him, but I could practically feel him tensing like he was preparing to deliver a blow to teach me a lesson. And while I didn’t want to get hurt, there was just something about him asserting himself that would have been kind of hot.
“Come on,” he said, saying the words as if they took an enormous amount of self-control to utter.
And then, as if the helicopter had teleported, it suddenly sounded much closer to me than it had been before. And on top of that, it felt like I could hear something in the water, like jet skis or maybe smaller boats rushing toward shore, coming to get me.
“Let’s go!”
For once, I decided that talking shit back wasn’t the best move. I hurried to keep up with his arm, lest he push me over, as I felt the ground beneath me shift from sand to harder soil, like I was back on grass. We ran over some gravel before he suddenly lifted me up and plopped me on something leather, like a seat.
“Kick your leg over,” he growled.
I did so. It felt like I was sitting on a 4x4 vehicle of some kind. And then, without the sound of an engine roaring, it jolted forward. Electric, maybe? So he can’t be heard?
“I didn’t know—”
“Are you trying to get your ass captured?” the man said. “Shut the hell up and do as I say!”
“Like I can be heard over the sound of tires squealing in the Cayman jungle.”
He didn’t respond as we went over a bump that lifted me off the ground, but I knew that I was pushing my luck—both with his patience and my chances of getting rescued. I let out a yip.
“I should have put that blindfold over your mouth.”
“So you could gag me?” I said teasingly. “That could be fun.”
The man didn’t respond. And frankly, he didn’t need to. The vibrations of the vehicle, the jostling, the way he had control…the less that he said, the better. The more easily I could concentrate on the feeling this provided.
Alas, the ride was a little too bumpy for me to feel tension down below. This wasn’t a motorcycle, which Cameron had gotten me on before. But it still felt mighty pleasing and good.
“I seriously can’t believe you can make an electric vehicle work—”
“I can make anything work with my job,” he said. “Now quit talking and shut your mouth.”
This guy really is the real-life James Bond. I’ll be fucking damned.
“How much further?”
“Another vehicle ride’s worth away.”
The hell does that—
My thought ended when the presumed 4x4 abruptly stopped, jolting me forward. Only the man’s arm probably prevented me from face-planting straight on the handlebars of the vehicle.
“Move.”
I didn’t so much walk as I shuffled my feet in the direction that he pushed me in. I didn’t want to trip over some plants, kick some snake, or do something stupid that would delay me from a damn shower and being able to see. And then I bumped into something very hard and doubled over.
“Shit!” I said.
“Fuck!” he growled, leaning forward and letting go of me briefly. “You almost knocked over our fucking bike.”
“Maybe you should have told me that there’d be a fucking bike in front of me!” I snapped.
“I don’t have time for this,” he said, grabbing me by the hips—wrapping his fingers around my skin, at one spot exposed, sending all sorts of tingling through my body—and hoisting me on the bike. He sat in front of me and leaned forward. “Wrap your arms around me if you don’t want to fall off and die. And seeing as how you’re my mission priority, I’d rather you not.”
“What—”
Gunshots erupted. I bit my lip to avoid screaming and wrapped around as tightly as I could.
The moment the bike started, my heart was racing much too fast for me to focus on anything other than p
raying I didn’t die. My entire body felt like a slick, sweaty mess, I was on the verge of losing my breath, and I just wanted the damn bike to go faster and faster as the gunshots continued.
How the hell had they found us? Would they be able to track us through the jungle? Did Snake have some sort of tracking device on me? Or did he just know whoever had taken me that well?
What if the guy who had taken me was somehow in cahoots with Snake? What if this was all some sort of sick mind game, a test for me? I mean, maybe it would have made for interesting television if it was scripted, but this was not reality TV. This was actual fucking reality!
“Can’t you drive any faster?” I shouted, but the man either didn’t hear me or just outright ignored me, neither of which I could really fault him for with our lives in danger.
The street—if that was even what we were riding on—was bumpy. I had no choice but to cling as closely as I could to the man, holding on for dear life. I kept fearing the moment when we’d skid out, flip over, or crash…
But after a minute or so, the gunshots stopped. The man still drove the motorcycle like a fiend, but the immediate danger seemed to subside. And as my heart rate slowly came down, as I no longer felt like I was in immediate danger, I was able to spend less time worrying if I would die and more on the immediate sensations around me.
For one, the man I was holding on to was in the best shape I had ever felt. Rippling muscles, a flexed core, broad back and chest…I liked to think that Cameron was in good shape, but this man was a god.
Which reminded me, I still hadn’t thought much of Cameron in the time since I’d been kidnapped. Aside from one sex dream, which was more a dream about sexual release than it was about Cameron, he just had not popped to mind that much. Maybe we were on the rocks more than I thought.
Maybe it was time to move on from him.
But whatever sad thoughts sprung to mind about Cameron vanished as the vibration between my legs intensified, and it wasn’t helping matters that pajama bottoms weren’t exactly the thickest material. I tried not to say anything, utter anything, show in any way that there was intense tension building up between my legs, but…