Chapter FIVE
EM
It wasn’t the best of weapons.
A gun would’ve been nice, or a baseball bat. Maybe pepper spray.
Knife?
I knew how to use them all. For the most part, my dad drove me crazy growing up. He was overprotective, overbearing, controlling . . . paranoid. Just paranoid enough to spend a certain amount of time teaching his girls to look at anything and everything as a potential weapon.
Even books.
God bless Stephen King, because the hardback I’d found wedged between the wrought-iron headboard and the wall was f*cking huge. It had obviously been back there for a hell of a long time, too. Totally covered with dust.
I didn’t feel a moment of guilt as I slammed it down onto Liam’s head, just savage satisfaction. I wasn’t under any illusion that this was a stellar escape plan. The odds were against me. But if I managed to hit him just right, I might be able to knock him out long enough to cuff him.
Then I’d only have Skid to deal with.
I figured the longer we stayed kidnapped, the more likely it was more Jacks would show up. Waiting for a better shot wasn’t worth the risk—at least that was my logic.
The book hit Liam with a satisfying thud, knocking him to the side. I followed it with a smash against the side of his face, which he managed to block with his arm.
Still knocked him off the bed, though.
In an instant I was up and over him, kicking him as hard as I could. I’d aimed for his crotch but he twisted at the last minute, blocking me. Liam sprang back up—rather impressively, I have to admit—and then it was all over. He tackled me against the bed, pinning me down with his full weight. One hand caught both of mine and dragged them high over my body. The other covered my mouth, immobilizing my head so I couldn’t head-butt him.
My little rebellion had lasted about thirty seconds.
Crap.
Liam’s face was directly above, and I looked up at him, expecting to see anger or betrayal. Instead I saw his eyes dark and intense and hot with need.
F*ck. Fighting with me turned the bastard on.
I needed to start remembering that.
One of his knees pushed between my legs, shoving them apart, and then he was up against my center and shit . . . That felt good. Sometimes I hate myself. On the bright side, I definitely hated him more.
“Next time make sure you have a better plan, babe,” he said softly. “This one never had a shot, and you risked pissing me off. You do that to the wrong man and he’s gonna really hurt you.”
And you won’t? I wanted to snap, but he kept my mouth covered. Then he pushed his hips into me, the heat in his eyes flaring.
“F*ck, you tempt me,” he muttered. “You have no idea how much I want to shove my dick into you. No idea at all.”
I glared at him hatefully, because the smell of him, the feel of him over me, the adrenaline rushing through me . . . All of it headed straight between my legs. He’d invaded my dreams earlier. When he started touching me and I’d woken up, I’d already been on fire. Now it was worse, which was pretty damned unfair.
“I’m going to let you talk,” he said. “But remember, you start screaming, there’s nobody to hear you but me and Skid. Oh, and your girl Sophie. She can’t do shit to help you, but hearing you yellin’ will probably scare the hell out of her. That what you want?”
I shook my head as much as I could, which wasn’t much. His hand lifted.
“You’re an a*shole,” I muttered.
“I know, sweetheart,” he said. He fumbled with the cuffs, and a few seconds later I found myself with both hands fastened to the top of the bed. Liam sat up, straddling me. I was stupid enough to look down, where I found his cock standing out, hard as a rock.
It was the first time I’d actually seen him.
Wow.
Liam wasn’t small. It was long and the tip was all red and angry looking. Just a tiny bit of fluid welled out at the very top, and I licked my lips unconsciously. His breath hissed and I flushed, forcing myself to look up at the ceiling instead.
“You still want me to get you off?” he asked, offering a dark smile. “Seems like the least I can do, under the circumstances.”
I flushed more and didn’t bother answering his question. I’d like to say this was because it was so crazy, or that I knew he wouldn’t listen if I said no. Maybe he wouldn’t. But a secret, dirty little part of me kind of wanted it . . .
And yes, the answer to your question is that I am definitely f*cking insane. But betrayal and evil ways aside, Liam was hot—his body called to mine in a way that I couldn’t seem to fight. I’d love to say that it disgusted me to see how our fighting turned him on, but that would be pretty damned hypocritical.
It turned me on, too.
Something about how he overpowered me, the way he didn’t handle me like I was fragile. Liam wasn’t scared to touch me, unlike every other man I’d ever known. His fingers came down over my corset and unhooked it quickly. My boobs spilled out, and he took one in each hand, squeezing them softly, pinching at the nipples. Sensation raced through me and I squirmed. Then he pushed them together, gaze utterly focused.
“I’d love to f*ck your tits.”
I gasped and he gave a harsh laugh.
“Christ, Em, if that scares you, you definitely don’t want to know all the other sick shit I have running through my head. What I’d do with these, if I owned you . . .”
His voice trailed off as he scooted down my body. Then his lips caught my nipple and sucked it in deep. I felt his hand trail down my side, and it slid between us to tug down my jeans.
I was still wet from my dream, not to mention when he’d touched me before. His finger penetrated me smoothly and I moaned. Shit. How did he do that?
This was what people meant by chemistry.
Damn.
Why the hell had I wasted any time chasing after Painter?
Because Painter isn’t a f*cking kidnapper? the sensible part of my brain pointed out. A second finger slid in and then his thumb started circling my *. I moaned again, twisting underneath him. He pulled away from my nipple and laid his cheek down between them, giving a low laugh.
“How much do you hate me right now, Emmy girl?” he asked, his voice a whispered taunt.
I didn’t dignify it with a reply.
His fingers curled up inside me, pressing against my inner wall as his thumb slid slowly back and forth. I shuddered and my hips bucked. That tight tension that builds up to an orgasm crept through me, his power over me a tangible thing.
Shit, I wanted his cock inside.
“You hate me enough that you want me to stop? Because I’ll stop, Em. Just say the word.”
He stopped moving, and my hips pressed up at him, begging for more. God. There’s something wrong with me. Liam laughed again, then started licking his way down my stomach.
“How’s that, baby?” he asked, thumb starting to work my * again. “Feel good being turned on by a Devil’s Jack?”
It felt f*cking fantastic, but I’d be damned if I’d acknowledge the point. Apparently I didn’t need to, because he slid lower, tugging down my jeans and panties enough for his mouth to reach my cleft. He breathed softly on it for a second, then flicked his tongue over my most sensitive spot.
I squealed, my hips bucking. Liam laughed again.
“Tell you what,” he said. “You say the word, I’ll pull off those pants and throw your legs over my shoulders, show you just how much you’ve been missing.”
I stayed silent. He licked me again, pausing to tug on my * with gentle suction.
“I hate you,” I said, but it came out as less of a declaration and more of a plea.
“Everyone hates me. But not everyone tastes as good as you, sweetheart. What’ll it be? We doing this or not?”
I wanted to tell him to f*ck off. But a traitorous little voice in my head pointed out that the damage was already done . . . Why not enjoy it? I’d already made a fool of myself and nothing would change that.
“No sex,” I said.
“Define ‘sex,’” he replied, kissing my mound almost tenderly.
“No sticking your penis inside me.”
“I can work with that.”
Seconds later my pants were gone. Liam’s lips covered my p-ssy and then I lost track of time. I’d had one other guy go down on me and I’d enjoyed it, but it was nothing compared to this devil’s tongue. He alternated between my * and my lower lips, fingers deep inside me, playing me until I couldn’t even breathe, let alone talk. The first orgasm hit me hard and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.
That’s where I expected it to end, but he just kept going until I couldn’t tell how much time had passed or even remember how many times I came. Heaven and hell, all rolled together and tied with a bow.
Make that a handcuff.
Then he pulled away with a groan to kneel over me, eyes feral with hunger.
“Roll over.”
HUNTER
Em surrounded me . . . Her taste, her smell, those little noises she made when she came. All of it washed through me, driving me crazy. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life than I wanted to shove my cock deep into her cunt. Ride her. Own her.
I couldn’t do it, though.
Not that I had any illusions—if I survived this little adventure, she’d never talk to me again. But I’d be damned if her first shot at real sex would come handcuffed to a bed in the middle of a club standoff.
But I’m no saint.
Staring down at Em’s heart-shaped ass, I knew I’d be pretty happy up inside there, too. Also not gonna happen. Those cheeks, though . . . I could make them work for me. I grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto her knees. She wavered unsteadily, so I grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her stomach. Then I ran my cock along the crack of her rear, savoring the heat.
“No,” she said quickly, her voice panicked.
“Relax, babe,” I said. “No dick inside, remember? I promised.”
She stayed tense, though, as I pushed her ass cheeks together, cradling my cock between them. When she tensed her muscles, they got even tighter, so I wasn’t about to complain.
Slowly I started sliding my cock in and out, precome seeping from the head and smoothing my way perfectly.
“That feels incredible,” I muttered. She gave a little grunt, like she’d protest if she had the energy. Fortunately, I’d pretty much wiped her out already.
I picked up speed with each stroke, her tight heat making my dick impossibly harder. I stopped thinking, eyes focused on that Chinese squirrel symbol. F*ckin’ crazy girl. I felt my balls tighten and knew I was close.
Shit, this was like every porn fantasy I’d ever had coming true.
Well, not quite true. Ideally I’d be inside her, but honestly . . . Her ass cheeks cradling my cock felt better than any p-ssy I’d ever f*cked. I guess that’s what happens when you find the perfect woman.
“Shit, babe,” I whispered. It pulled inside me, the terrible desire. Her slick heat surrounded me, her legs quivering beneath me. I felt all powerful and consumed with need.
Then it hit.
My head exploded into lights as my cock blew out. I let her cheeks go and watched in utter fascination as my come covered her tattoo.
Christ, Em was a good lay.
I stayed there, running my hands up and down along her sides, soothing her for long moments. I heard a sniffle, and wondered if she was crying. Probably.
Then it was time.
I pulled away from her slowly, carefully, treasuring the sight of her lying there. I stood back and pulled on my jeans. Then I dug through the pocket to find my cell phone.
Damn . . .
I don’t know what was worse—what I was about to do, or how much I was looking forward to it. I turned it on and opened the camera app, coming up behind her and taking three great shots of her jizz-soaked ass.
“What’re you doing?” she murmured softly, stretching. I took action shots the whole time, wishing she’d roll over so I could get those tits.
“Saving the moment,” I told her absently. “Want something to show the boys back home. You look like a f*ckin’ porn star. Think Daddy’ll want one of these?”
She tried to sit up but the cuffs caught her. Instead she fell heavily to the side—facing me, thank f*ck—and I started taking pics of her tits and that sweet p-ssy I could just see peeking out between her legs.
Her eyes met mine, full of sudden, horrific comprehension. This has to happen, I reminded myself.
Em screamed in wordless rage. Then she raised her legs and kicked the wall, the force of her anger driving the bed a good six inches across the floor. A mirror mounted over the dresser fell to the floor with the crash of shattering glass.
“You cocksucking bastard!” she shrieked.
I took one last shot, then turned off my camera. That should do it.
“Consider this a lesson why you shouldn’t trust strangers you meet on the Internet,” I told her, offering a nasty smile. “I’m gonna go get something to clean up the glass. Be a good girl while I’m gone—unless you want another lesson? I can do worse than pictures, you know.”
I opened the door and stepped out quietly. She screamed at me again, the sound tearing through me as I jogged down the stairs.
Skid looked up from the couch and cocked a brow.
“Do I wanna know?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Naw, just took your advice,” I replied. “I hurt her bad. Should be enough to do the trick.”
“Right thing to do, brother.”
I shrugged.
“Guess so. F*ckin’ sucks.”
“Yeah, that’s why I don’t usually follow my own advice,” Skid muttered. “Glad you did it, though. Frees her up to find someone else. Get her out of this game.”
“Every once in a while, I wonder what life would be like outside the club,” I admitted, rubbing a hand through my hair. “You know, if we didn’t have all this shit to deal with? If we could just live like normal people.”
“Never gonna happen, so might as well forget it,” Skid replied. “Hell, you’d be bored off your ass. Can you imagine holding down a regular job? F*ck, what would you even do? I know you’re f*ckin’ great at hunting people down, taking them out—”
“Don’t say shit like that, bro.”
Skid laughed.
“My bad. You’re f*ckin’ great at whatever it is you do for Burke,” he said. “Probably fetching coffee, delivering flowers. Shit like that. But a regular job? You’d be f*cked, man. It is what it is.”
“Sometimes I hate this.”
“Yeah, me, too. But you know what? Sometimes it f*ckin’ kicks ass, so let’s focus on getting through the next day or two. Then we’ll head back home and get you laid. She’s not the only p-ssy in the world.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
Skid snorted.
“F*ckin’ p-ssy.”
“I said don’t talk about her like that.”
“I was talkin’ about you, a*shole. Biggest damned p-ssy in the house.”
This time I decided tackling him was worth the effort.
EM
I refused to speak when Hunter finally returned, focusing my gaze exactly two inches above his right shoulder. After a few minutes of one-sided conversation, he gave a frustrated sigh and walked me over to Sophie’s room.
She’d been cuffed to a bed just like me, and even in sleep she looked as rough as I felt. Shit. I hoped to hell Skid hadn’t decided to teach her the same kind of “lesson” Liam gave me.
“You okay?” I asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. She opened her eyes slowly, face twisting.
“I need the bathroom,” she whispered.
I looked over at Liam—no, Hunter. I needed to remember that. Liam was the imaginary nice guy. Hunter was the giant douche who’d taken dirty pictures of me.
“Can she go to the f*cking bathroom?” I asked, not bothering to hide my hatred.
“Yeah,” he replied, his face blank. He walked toward us and I scooted out of the way, glaring at him while he unlocked Sophie’s cuffed arm. “C’mon. Both of you.”
I grabbed Sophie’s hand and pulled her across the hallway and into the bathroom.
“I can’t believe how stupid I was,” I told her, feeling sick. “I actually invited him to come and meet me. I made it so easy. Idiot.”
Sophie used the toilet and then washed up, cupping her hands to get a drink. She seemed so quiet, so subdued. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more pissed. Hell, she should be pissed—at me. I got her into this shit.
“Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to us?” she asked. “Skid scares the crap out of me.”
“Did he hurt you?” I demanded, feeling my blood pressure rise.
“No.”
“That’s good,” I muttered. “This is a pretty f*cked-up situation. Toke—he’s the one who cut me at the party—he’s gone off his rocker. This shooting thing makes no sense to me at all, but if it really happened, we’re screwed. Nobody knows where Toke is, not even Deke, and he’s Toke’s president. They’ve all been looking for him since the party. Cutting me was not okay, and Dad wants to make sure he pays for it.”
“Shit,” she said, eyes wide. “So your dad couldn’t give them this Toke guy, even if he wanted to?”
“I don’t think so,” I said slowly, wishing I could fix things—for her, if not for me. Hell, Sophie was a mother. What would her little boy do without her? “I mean, he’s really protective of me. When Toke hurt me like that, Dad lost it. If Dad could find him, he’d be found already. We’re pretty f*cked here, Sophie.”
“Do you think they’ll hurt us?” she asked, her face pale.
I thought about my answer carefully. I didn’t want to freak her out, but I wanted to be honest.
“Liam won’t,” I said, and for some reason I believed it. Maybe because he hadn’t raped me? “I mean, he won’t hurt me. I don’t think he’ll hurt you, either.”
She cocked her head at me.
“You do realize he was lying all along, right?” she asked. “Just because you liked him doesn’t mean you can trust him.”
I almost started laughing, because that was rich.
“Oh, I know that. Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m the f*ckwit that got us into this.”
“You’re not a f*ckwit,” she said forcefully. “He’s a liar and he’s good at it. Not your fault that he targeted you.”
“You guys okay in there?” Hunter called through the door.
“We’re fine,” I snapped. “Give us a f*cking minute, a*shole!”
Christ, I wanted to kill him.
Sophie’s eyes widened.
“That was pretty bitchy,” she hissed. “Do you think that’s smart? Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong here, but don’t we want him in a good mood?”
I snorted, thinking about those pictures.
Hunter was such a prick.
“F*ck that. I’m a Reaper and I’ll be damned if I’ll suck up to some Devil’s Jack dickwad.”
“Well, I’m not a Reaper,” Sophie said, her voice quiet but hard. I looked at her, startled—this was the first real emotion she’d shown. “And I’d just as soon not die here and leave Noah an orphan, so don’t piss him off.”
That took the wind out of me. Shit, I needed to be thinking. I knew it was up to me to get us out of this, and to pull it off I’d need to use my head. Damn. We finished up and left the bathroom. Hunter jerked his head toward Sophie’s bedroom. It took everything I had to obey him quietly, but I kept picturing Sophie’s boy and reminded myself I had to be smart about this.
“Go lie down on the bed.”
We did what he said. Thankfully, he only cuffed one hand each, which was far more comfortable than having both stuck up over my head. I tried to ignore him as he leaned over me, tracing a finger across my cheek.
“I’ll bring you some food,” he murmured.
“I’m gonna buy a bright red dress to wear to your funeral, Liam,” I hissed. Shit. I needed to control my tongue . . .
“Yeah?” he asked. “Make sure it’s short and shows off your tits.”
“I hate you.”
“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” he muttered, then walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I closed my eyes, trying to picture a dress bright and slutty enough to send just the right message as I stood over his coffin. Sophie cleared her throat.
“Don’t worry,” I muttered. “We’ll find our way out of this. We’ll escape somehow. Either that or the guys will find us.”
I wondered if she believed me.
Probably not. I didn’t even believe myself.