Suspense

"I've been an ass and I'm sorry."

"Want to make it up to me?"

Francois grinned. "I'm all about make-up sex, Mingo."

"Then find a nice quiet corner where we might get caught and fuck me."

"Outstanding," he said, his wicked grin spreading from ear to ear. He floored the gas, sending two skateboarders scuttling away and he careened from one end of the massive parking garage to the other. I kept massaging his cock through his pants. He hissed in a breath.

"Oh…man, Mingo…"

I found the zipper and angled my face between his taut, hard belly and the steering wheel and unzipped his jeans with my teeth. He jumped as my tongue licked at his belly, then found its way into the slit of his tighty-whities. He looked so hot in those damned things, I couldn't believe it. He found a space at last, wedged between a wall and a dilapidated white Ford.

My lips were already working their way around his cockhead. It was massive. Hard and hot, I licked the head, paying homage to the slit, running my tongue down the length of his shaft.

"Christ, suck it," he said.

I took my time. I let my mouth slobber over every hard inch of him. He was more than a mouthful and for this, I was eternally grateful. I held his hot cock gently between my hands, letting my fingers massage the shaft, following the trail of my tongue and incessant, sucking mouth. He got worked up very quickly as I slowly removed my fingers one by one leaving only my mouth to work on him. He was on the verge of coming, so I stopped, taking one last swab at his leaking cockhead as I reached into my pocket for my new favorite toy.

Snapping the studded, black leather cock ring around his cock and balls, I took smug satisfaction in his gasp.

"I'll stay hard for you baby, please…man. It's so tight. Mingo, we don't need it."

Yeah, we needed it. The orgasms it gave him were deep and intense. It always took a few second for him to become acclimated to the pressure around his balls. I licked his cock again and he relaxed.

"You're going to fuck me now," I said, raising my face away from him.

"Baby, we're in a parking lot!"

"Yeah, and you're gonna park that thing right in my ass, buster."

I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled them down, my mouth still moving over his cock. I felt Francois' big hands shoving down my underpants. His cock kept leaking and I know he was ready.

"Get over here," he rasped, his fingers caressing my ass hole. He pushed his seat back and I moved myself over him, facing away from him. Gripping the steering wheel, I raised my ass so he could rub his cockhead against it.

"This what you want, Mingo?"

"Yeah…yeah."

He lowered me onto him. I worked my ass up and down that massive prick. From this angle, he felt enormous. I shuddered as I felt one of the studs on his cock ring against my ass cheek.

"Oh…" Francois tightened his hold on my hips. My hard cock beat against the steering wheel. He reached one hand around me to curl around it. His fingers gripped me. Oh man, I was going to come.

He fucked me hard and fast, I rose and fell against him. My heartbeat raced and my cock leaped in his grip.

"That's it, baby," he said, aware now that I was close. I raised my hips, reached down and around and unfastened the cock ring. He exploded inside me, my own cock erupting from the sheer, dramatic force of what was happening in me.

During one fateful night of death and loss, twenty years ago, Mitchell lost almost everything he held dear. Not only were his parents murdered, but his younger brothers were kidnapped and thought lost forever. Since then, Mitchell has not only had to lead the felines in rebuilding their society, but he's had to protect them from future attacks. This leaves little time for his own wants and needs.

Being the second born, wolf shifter Dean, has always lived to serve others. He's never disobeyed orders, even when one of them dictated that he had to give up a man he loved. Broken and alone, Dean vowed never to open his heart to another. Then both of their lives are turned upside down when it's discovered that a rogue wolf from Dean's pack is holding one of Mitchell's lost brothers captive.
Jean-Luc had taught me so much about making love to a man. Sometimes, yes, we fucked like bunnies, sometimes, like now, he wanted it to be a spiritual experience. I could always tell when he was in that mood. His eyes grew smoky and there was a stillness in him I never found in another human being. I just adored every ounce of his high places. He was so Buddha-like it was amazing.

"Take your clothes off, baby." He shut our bedroom door on the world and he walked into the bathroom. I heard the bath taps running. Christ. I knew what was in store for me. Was it possible to die from sensual overload?

I smelled good things. Fig, mint…something else. A dash of chocolate oil. My man was a connoisseur of good eats in the kitchen and in the bedroom. He'd bought kama sutra oils from Europe that stimulated sexual energy. The great thing about them was they entered your pores in the bath in a more subtle way than massaging them into the skin. They came out as your body heat increased during sex and were completely edible. So I got to fuck my man and eat him, too.

He took off his clothes and I admired his naked beauty. We worked off our healthy appetites with a lot of sex and working out. Sex was my preferred method, for sure. His lovely cock started to harden against his thigh and he reached out a hand to me. He allowed me to tongue the ankh tattoo at his hipbone. He pulled away from me as my tongue tried moving to his luscious cock.

Not so fast, mister. I could read his thoughts as clearly as if they were my own. He agitated the oil in the water with his hands, holding them out to me.

I felt better the second I slipped into the satiny liquid.

My gaze feasted on his cock, which was hard now. Damn! Mine was, too. I wanted him for God's sake. I wanted to be in him, guiding his own cock in my hand to glorious ecstasy.

He sat in the water, his cock bobbing to the surface. So did mine, but he ignored it. He focused instead on pouring the warm bath water over my shoulders and back, down my front, lingering across my heart. His hand paused and my heartbeat slowed. "I love your heart," he said, moving his hand away and scooping water over me again.

I loved this ritual. It was my turn next. I'd never focused before on how nice it felt to be bathed by someone, to feel the gentle force of water droplets against my skin. Just as he'd once taught me to take my time exploring the small island on which we'd met, he'd since taught me to savor the final moment of orgasmic bliss. Sometimes the pleasure was so strong, I thought I would die from it. I knew it would be one heck of a way to go, but what I wanted more than anything was to keep this life-force, to keep him with me, for as long as humanly possible.

His hands moved to the underside of my balls. I felt the gentle tug as he stroked all the secret, soft places. He stroked once, twice at my ass hole and I thought I might come right there and then, but then his hands moved down my legs and under my feet. He stopped when my feet rested in his palms.

It was now my turn. I used to try and race through these rituals of Jean-Luc's, until he showed me the astonishing, sacred fulfillment we could both achieve by focusing on being in the moment.

I loved the feel of his skin, the muscles underneath. I wanted a million years, a thousand children with him. When I reached his feet and our gazes met, I don't think our cocks had ever been harder. 

“Oh, Francois.”

He didn’t say a word. His hand grew a little more insistent at my back and he steered me inside the most stunning room I had ever been in. Ever. The room was huge and magnificent, opening onto a lanai on which stood a chaise and beyond it, a spectacular view of Diamond Head.

Francois stood behind me, his hands sliding down my hips, moving inward to my crotch, resting right on my cock. I knew loved my cock and indeed, enjoyed sucking it for hours.

His fingers moved to the belt buckle keeping him from what he wanted. I turned my face up to meet his and he kissed me, his tongue moving into my mouth as his hands negotiated my zipper. We soon got into a frenzy. We stripped each other in record time. I saw he was hard but he gestured outside.

“Get on that chaise, right now.”

“Somebody might see us.”

“Unlikely, from this vantage point, but the idea thrills me. I want people to watch me taking you.”

My breath stuck in my throat. A white guy and a black guy, naked, wearing big, hard cocks were probably not something you saw every day on the lanai of the Royal Suite. He knelt beside me on the warm apricot-colored tile. I moved my hand to his thigh as I lay down on the chaise as instructed.

He nudged my hand away, his mouth moving straight down to my famished cock. How could I still want him so badly when I’d been woken at four a.m. by his insistent cock poking at my ass? In the five months we’d been together, Francois showed me over and over again how much he wanted me. I felt my body moving as he toyed with my balls and ass.

“Open your legs,” he said, coming off my cock.

He was still beside me when I did as I was told, the only sounds in the world his insistent licking and sucking and the roar of the ocean. I heard voices far below us. Francois nudged my knees up, pulling my ass closer to his face. Nobody had ever eaten my ass the way he did. I felt his hot braids falling on my skin, felt the beads on the end rippling against my chest and belly.

I wanted him to fuck me. I had no idea if the chaise could hold us both but he moved to the foot of it now, bringing my ass down to him. He knelt, his cock hard and jutting up toward his belly, his mouth moving back to my hole. One hand encircled my shaft and he stroked upward. His other hand stroked at my ass cheeks. He slowly worked his thumb into my ass and I almost came when his eyes connected with mine.

He grunted. “Tough customer.” His tongue came out of his mouth as his thumb fucked me in a nice, demanding rhythm. He moved to my side again, his tongue bearing down on my left nipple. He licked it, slapped it gently a couple of times and I grabbed his hand at my ass. Francois knew what he was doing to me. He mouth opened and he sucked my nipple into it. I came with a cry, Francois suckling me until I stopped gushing all over him.

Francois took me mercy on me finally and let go of the nipple. My legs shook and I didn’t think I could keep them raised anymore. I was spent.

His face dipped down and he licked my juices from my belly and chest.

With a sigh, he removed his thumb from my ass.

He moved me back up the chaise, stood before me and I begged him to fuck me.

Francois got between my now hot thighs.

“Put me where you want me.”

Later that evening, they stood together in their room looking out the window. The view was breathtaking. White sands and palm trees lined the road directly below them. In the distance, spectacular mountains dominated the landscape.

“That’s Gavea Mountain,” Angelo told him, pointing at it. “People hang glide off it onto the beach.”

“Wow,” Marshall said, shaking his head. “They must be brave. I wouldn’t do that.”

Angelo had showered and changed into a pair of navy shorts and a yellow tank top. He looked beautiful, he smelled wonderful. The view out the window paled in comparison.

“Want to go walking on the beach?” Angelo asked suddenly, moving away from the window. “Everything’s open twenty-four hours. There is even a gay beach in Ipanema.”

“Really,” Marshall laughed, his eyes moving over Angelo as he went into the closet and took out a plastic bag. He threw it at him.

“What’s this?” Marshall laughed as he caught it in his hands.

“Just a little gift I picked up in the hotel while you were in the shower.”

Marshall opened the bag to find a pair of light blue shorts with a beautiful cotton short-sleeved shirt. The shirt was a darker shade of blue with the faintest imprint of palm trees in the background.

 “Is this for me?” Marshall asked. He wasn’t used to receiving gifts.

“Yeah. Try it on,” he said, but Marshall was already beginning to undo the buttons.

 It fit perfectly. It made him feel like a completely different person. “You have good taste,” Marshall told him, as he whirled around in front of him.

Angelo ran his gaze over him. “You’d look sensational in anything, but you especially look sensational in nothing.”

Marshall moved closer to him and kissed his mouth. “That can be arranged.”

“Not if we’re going to get out of this room, it can’t. Come on,” he urged, pushing him out the door and locking it behind him.

They took a walk, Marshall holding Angelo’s arm close to him. No one blinked an eye. They stayed on the beach to watch fireworks. Angelo told him they had fireworks every night on the beach. Lovers sat together, kissing in the moonlight as the lights exploded in the sky.

They sat on the beach. Marshall smiled at Angelo as he watched the fireworks with the excitement of a small boy. Marshall reached over and took his hand. He turned his face to him and their eyes locked.

Music rang out over the beach. Angelo suddenly jumped to his feet, pulling Marshall up with him. “Let’s dance?”

He was drenched in moonlight. Marshall’s breath caught in his throat for a second.

Even though the band was playing some distance down the beach from them, the music drifted up to where they were. They were totally alone.

Angelo smiled at him as the cool night breeze blew his dark hair around his face. He pulled him into his arms. They began to dance, moving slowly to the rhythmic Latin beat.

Marshall moved deeper into his arms, laying his head on his shoulder. He moved his lips against his neck. Umm, what heaven it was to hold him like this, to run his hands down the length of his back, to hear his soft breathing, his strong steady heart beat. The heat from his body was intoxicating and the way he moved against him was enough to drive him out of his mind.

He didn’t know exactly how long they remained there alone, dancing. It might have been twenty minutes or more. He ran his hands over his silky hair, removing the leather cord that held it. He pressed his hair to his lips, breathing in the subtle fragrance, rubbing the strands against his cheek. “So soft, your hair,” he whispered.

They both laughed, moving a bit faster to the beat as Angelo pressed his lips to his forehead, then his mouth.

 Marshall kissed him deeply, passionately, tightening his hold on him as they kept dancing. Then he pulled him down in the sand on his knees. The kisses became more forceful, their passion rising like the ebb of the tides. Marshall broke away from him, laughing. “Wow,” he whispered, his chest heaving. “Let’s go back to the room.”

 “Sounds like a plan,” Angelo said deeply, getting up on his feet, taking Marshall with him.

“Oh, I have a serious plan,” Marshall replied, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“So,” Angelo teased, following him across the sand, “are you going to give me a hint about this plan of yours?”

“As if you need any hints,” Marshall replied as he started to run. Angelo started to run behind him.

“If I catch you, can I have you?” He called after him.

“If I’m running too fast, let me know,” Marshall cast him a flirtatious glance backward.

They were both out of breath, and laughing like fools when they reached the lobby of the hotel.

The woman at the front desk grinned at them. “Ah…the two handsome boys,” she said in English.

Marshall and Angelo nodded at her, and said goodnight. They waited impatiently for the elevator, never taking their eyes off each other. Once they got on, Angelo sobered and turned to Marshall, “Did she say boys?”

“Ah, did she hurt your ego?” Marshall taunted him, laying the palm of his hand on his chest…

“Never mind,” he told him with a grimace, which caused Marshall to howl with laughter.

In the room, Marshall stripped off his new clothes, then motioned to Angelo. “Come here, boy,” he slurred, “Tonight, I will teach you how to be a man.”

Angelo raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” he moved over to him and took him in his arms. “Okay, professor, I am your willing and most humble student,” he said, kissing him deeply.

Marshall stepped out of his arms and smiled at him. “First you need to get out of those clothes, slowly.” He went and lay down on the bed.

“Ah, a strip tease?”

“Um, go ahead student.”

Angelo bowed his head. He undid his shirt and threw it at him, causing Marshall to laugh and unceremoniously take off the rest.

“That wasn’t very sexy,” Marshall protested, laughing.

“Oh, I know,” he said, “but this is.” He ran his hands up over his body and moved seductively toward the bed, lifting his sex in invitation. “How about that, teach? Do I get a passing grade? And how about this?” He bent down over him and let his tongue swirl around the head of Marshall’s cock.

Marshall let his head go back. “Oh yeah,” he whispered.

“And how about this?” He moved a hand under Marshall’s ass and inserted a finger up inside of him. “Do I pass this test or do I have to stay after school?”

Marshall reached up and placed his hands in his hair. He kissed his mouth, squirming as Angelo moved his finger in and out of him.

Angelo pulled away, laughing, forcing Marshall over onto his stomach. He pulled his hips upward and placed a hand on his ass. His tongue replaced the finger and Marshall just about lost his mind. A few minutes later he heard the condom package tear and he whimpered a little. “Yes, take me. Take me, baby. Now.”

“What will I have to do for homework?”

“You’re perfect,” Marshall groaned, “you pass…Jesus…you pass…pass!”

Angelo fucked him hard and long, his hand reaching around to torment his cock at the same time. The tension was sublime and release came leaving Marshall grasping, his heart pounding, and his body reeling from the pleasure. He clung to him all night, waking up every once in awhile to kiss him mouth, caress his sex, and check to see if he was real…if it all was real.

Patiently Zoe leaned to the corner of some shop and watched the waves of tourists--some searching for an interesting view, and others going for a group photo with a background--and not for the first time mused how lucky they were not to know which cruel fate they had been spared.

Then, right on time with the first whistle of the old steam clock Johnny appeared, with noticeably darker stubble than he had at lunchtime, but with the same beaming face as when he first saw her.

She caught him by surprise again with a hug and a quick kiss. The poor guy blushed. Then she led him to the next pub.

They exchanged small talk until the latte macchiato was placed in front of them and the waitress disappeared. Then she took his right hand and looked into his eyes. "You are a nice guy," she offered. "So I better tell you now. I'm not going for a long-term relationship."

His reaction in turn surprised her. He nodded, kissed her hand, and replied, "I know. I can see you haven't reached the end of your journey. I don't care."

She tried to answer--he put one finger to her lips. "No. Don't say it now. You are shining into my life like a ray of the sun, and I'm bathing in your light as long as it holds me. I'll enjoy every second and enshrine it in my heart like a precious treasure, to remember it during the dark hours. And when you have to go I won't grieve but rejoice in the present you gave me."

 

Now she stood in front of the mirrored wall of her hotel room and studied the picture of their nude bodies through half-closed eyelids and noticed briefly that even the microfiber bra that Johnny just had stripped from her left pressure marks. She enjoyed the feel of his warm breath that bathed her right ear and the nape of her neck, while his promisingly erected member targeted upward along her right hip, lightly pulsating in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

His hands caressed her short, black hair, casually stroked her earlobes, and followed the curve of her neck to her shoulders, then moved forward. From there they wandered across the outer side of her breasts, their lower sides, slid down her breastbone to her navel, and parted again before they reached the little black bush in her lap. They tenderly dawdled from her waist to her hips. Their movement hesitated as his left hand reached the clearly noticeable indentation of her bullet wound, then continued on under her buttocks, rejoined in the center and slid up her spine.

Her right hand gently closed around his firm shaft, tenderly moved along it to the tip, caressed his shining head. A wonderful feeling, she mused. Time for the unromantic necessity, gently she applied the condom, unrolled it, fondling his hairy balls.

He pulled back his hip slightly, pulled from her grip, pushed her arms outside and over her head. With hands aloft, her already firm breast was outlined even more. She trembled as his fingertips almost unnoticeably circled the sensitive skin of her bust, sneakily passed her areola, avoiding her expectantly tense nipples, teasing her again and again--damn! It felt so crazily good that she didn't want to let him stop, although at the same time she longed for the feel of his dick inside her, sensed how her clit cried for attention, imagined how the wetness trickled out between her labia, determined to soak her loins. No no!

Not to be delayed, she slowly turned to the balcony door, pulling him after her at his caressing hands as she swam toward the door with infinite deliberation, tore it open wide, letting in the refreshing evening air which caused a fine goose flesh and again made her more receptive for his caressing moves. Oh, she felt as if something should explode very soon--abruptly she tore her upper body from his grip, reached forward with her arms, grasped the balcony handrail, extended her back to him with gently spread legs in an unmistakable invitation, yes, please, do it! wordlessly crying, demanding, while his hands began to fondle her buttocks--no, more!--a short touch of his lance in her crotch, but much too elusive, already passed, there, again! she pushed her pelvis further to him, hoping, begging, pleading--"Aaaaooh!" with a loud, animal, lustful scream that echoed far through the city streets she--finally!--received his long, hard pulsating cock deep inside her, voraciously enclosed by her damp cavern, massaged by her tensed muscles, caressed by the rhythmical shake of her pelvis, oh yes!

"Oh!" Uninhibited she let those unseen in the night take part of her lust. Mindlessly, she cried out her rapture, answered every push of his pelvis with a little, peaky shriek, completely devoted, voluntarily captured with him in a tiny universe of ecstasy, pushing, rushing, circling, moaning, screaming--moremoremoreharderdeeperfirmeryees!

She sensed the climax approaching, felt herself reaching her inner barrier appreciated, hugged, opened, fluid and fire in her veins, foxfire eruptions dancing through and around her, flashes, EXPLOSION! A scream like from a thousand throats, thrown back by walls with their highlighted windows, dark silhouettes of stunned witnesses, released her tension, took the desired relief with it, and yet…

Boiling blood, adrenaline and endorphin in a whirling choreography, muscles spasmically twitching with the signals of electrified nerves, self control in free fall, for fractions of a second Zoe was committed to her body's reactions until her mind took in the reins, little prickling discharges tingled here and there in her body, tender echoes of the previous orgasm that was so infinitely, salaciously amplified by the flow of her special power which she now quickly contained, while she let her spine relax and loosened the grip of her vaginal muscles, allowed him to retract out of her. Slowly she straightened up, presented her sweaty wet breasts to the city night, turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him toward her, just held on, sensed how his slowly shrinking, wet member stroke along her pelvis, enjoyed how he hugged and held her, breathing heavily, exhausted, weary.

"Incredible!" was his first word.

"Yes!" she replied beaming and pushed him back into the room, toward the waiting bed. The night was still young!

More! More! More! She fantasized, as Billy Idol's Rebel yell invaded her thoughts.

More!

“This is as far from innocent as love is from hate.” Angelique pressed closer to me and her lips barely brushed against mine with every sharp syllable. “This is the point that you find out just what a soul is worth and what lengths some of us will go through to get them.”

The kiss was electric. Her lips pressed hard against mine and her tongue forced my mouth open, starving to explore. Every nerve ending in my body betrayed the voice in my head that was shouting to stop her. I put my hands on her shoulders, but instead of pushing away, I held her tightly.

I joined her in the savage kiss, grunting as her hand began to stroke me hard through my pants. My loins were on fire, my heart beating flaming signals throughout my limbs that all cried out to take her on the floor. There was no love to be made—just an animal hunger for sex, a desire to taste every inch of her skin to a wild glorious climax.

Angelique got rougher.

“What is a nice girl like you doing in a racket like this?” He sat beside me as I straightened up and tucked the wad into my back jeans pocket.

“Making a living like everyone else, I guess.” I crossed my legs to remove a spike-heeled sandal. “Everybody got to eat. Everybody got to breathe. Everybody got to fuck now and then, too.”

A dark cloud traversed his features, but the storm quickly passed. He leaned back on the bed and folded his arms beneath his head, watching me unzip my pants with unadulterated lust.

“You shouldn’t use such crude terms. You’re much too young and pretty to be talking like a sailor. You remind me of somebody… somebody I met once. Now, who could it be?” I shimmied out of my jeans, carefully folded them, and placed them by my jacket. Could he have remembered me from a company picnic? Or maybe those few times I actually came by the factory in the middle of the day to talk to Daniel about the kids? Did I have enough guts to bluff my way out of this situation if he did place my face and name together?

I turned around, facing him, and took a deep breath, filling out my black, lacy B-cup as much as possible as I peeled off my top. “Your Sunday school teacher perhaps?”

His gaze dropped below my chin. It worked. I wouldn’t have to worry about him studying my face too much. The man was going to explode if he didn’t get off soon.

He chuckled. “More like the little red-headed girl I snuck out of Sunday School with to make-out behind her father’s barn. Come on over here.”

Joshua moved intimately close to Pamela. His breath was hot with crackling intensity as he whispered, “I will take you up against this wall if you don’t come with me right now.”

* * * *

 Her body throbbed with need from his graphic declaration. Slowly, she moved away from him and took a deep breath. She kept her back to him as she held out her hand. When he took, it she allowed him to lead the way.

Her hand was trembling as she tried to unlock her front door. How long had it been since she’d been this aroused? How long had it been since she ached for the feel of a man all over her? Too long, she admitted.

Once they were inside, Pamela suspected that Joshua would pounce immediately. But to his credit, he surprised her by tempering his lust with steely control. As they removed their coats, she noticed that he was watching her. Watching the way her body moved. Watching the way she eyed him cautiously.

Finally he asked, “Am I making you nervous?”

Her shoulders slumped and she turned away from him. “I don’t know why. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

Suddenly, his arms came around her and closed her in tight. “You haven’t. Pamela, this isn’t a business transaction. It’s you and me. Open, exposed, vulnerable, wanting, need. You don’t think I’m not intimidated?”

She turned and looked up at him perplexed.

“With every caress of my hands, with every touch of my lips, somewhere in the back of my mind I’ll be wondering if you understand, can you feel, will you know just how much you mean to me.”

She took one of the black leather harnesses and held it before her, frowning. “What’s the long part in the middle?”
“It goes around the manhood.”
Mrs. Smith lifted her gaze toward her chosen man, a mocking glance in her eyes. “You mean, you get strapped into this thing and this part holds your jewels?”
Michael wondered for how long he could pretend this conversation to be normal. The urge to burst into laughter got stronger by the minute. “Indeed, that’s what it’s designed for.”
“Designed!” She gave back the harness, laughing herself silly.
He closed the drawer and opened the last. It was low enough for her to look into it without Michael’s help. He knelt beside her.
She pointed at a curved piece of metal with two blunt endings. “And this is?”
“A nose hook.”
“A what?”
“A nose hook. You put it in like this—” He demonstrated it. “So that the sub can’t lift his head.”
She picked another one, larger than the first. “And this is for someone with just one nostril?”
Michael did not know what Mrs. Smith would do if he rolled on the floor laughing. He decided to answer the question. “No, that’s another kind of hook. It belongs more to the backside.”
“I get the idea.” Her hand flew up. “No demonstration necessary.” She put it back as if it had bitten. A gesture included the contents of the sideboard. “Is there a reason, I mean, a background for all of this?”
“The goal is satisfaction. For both players.” He made up his mind before his self-restraint went to the gonads. “I’m sorry to ask, but you chose this scenario. Is it—”
“I’m always curious to learn new things.” She smiled as if it explained everything. “So, tell me all about it. This here. And what is possible. Or not.”
Michael shrugged and kept his ideas to himself. “It’s possible to use all of these items on me if you wish.”
“You enjoy being bound?”
He wanted to hear surprised eagerness and tried to find out by a glance. “For some time, yes. I’m not into a lifestyle of being submissive 24/7. I know, it is very satisfying for some people to give up their free will and just live to serve another being. I accept that as a culture of its own.” He watched her lovely face. Her eyes were big as saucers, her lips slightly parted. He wanted to be touched by her and inspire her with his body to go further. Her hands were small, but looked as if she had strength in them. The afternoon was looking up.
“A culture? Is that true?”
He nodded. He had spent hours researching this sexual subculture a year ago when he had had a girlfriend with special interests. With every article he had read about shackles, harnesses and collars, he had gotten more interested. He could not wait for someone to use these devices on him. How it would feel to be bound. Unfortunately, Mrs. Smith was far from that. She wanted to learn firsthand, which was—in Michael’s eyes and to his libido—a waste of time.
“It is true that there are more people every year who openly admit that they enjoy being bound.”
“And hurt?”
“That, too.”
“Is it truly so…arousing to live through pain?”
Michael wet his lips. Talking about this way of lovemaking was arousing in itself. He took a deep breath. “I could show you, Mrs. Smith, but you might not feel satisfaction if you’re not into this kind of game.”
Now her smile reminded him of a schoolgirl, who was always taken to be shy and suddenly jumped out of a party cake in the altogether. “Like I said, I’m always curious to learn new things. Take off your clothes. Right now.”
He searched her eyes to see if she was serious. She nodded once so he got up. “What about you doing it? I promise, I won’t struggle.”
She was quick on her feet and with glee in her eyes, pushed him across the foot end of the bed, laughing at his surprised expression. “Gotcha!”
Her whole face lit up. He loved her instantly. “Don’t be rash!” He gripped her shoulders to turn and straddle her. “And now?”
“Now I enjoy the view.” She opened the buttons of his dress shirt and leisurely pulled it over his shoulders.
He helped with the cuff links and dropped the dress shirt behind him.
“No undershirt? That’s risky. You could catch a cold.”
He laughed. “I’ll handle that.”
“But you won’t handle me.” She pretended a hook and pushed him to the side.
He rolled with her. “Beware, she’s a fighter!”
“Right.” Mrs. Smith straddled him across his chest, facing his legs. She undid belt, button and zipper to get Michael out of the pants. That way he got an excellent view of her snug derriere. “Black boxers.” She lifted her butt to look at him between her legs. “Do your boxers always fit the color of your pants?”
He nodded, pretending seriousness. “House rule.”
She giggled. “Off with them!”
Michael couldn’t grasp his luck. She was a player! “As you wish.”
“I knew you’d say that.” She turned around, dropping the boxers on the floor. “And now I’ll use all of the stuff in the sideboard!”
“Don’t forget to check the cupboard.”
“For the larger devices?”
“For the larger devices.”
She cocked her head. “You are really into this, aren’t you?”
“I was honest with you.” He outstretched his arms to lie spread-eagled on the cream-colored covers. “You can do what you want with me.”
Mrs. Smith cocked her head, brows raised. “Guess, that’s an invitation girls don’t get every time.”

Honey paused at the door to the bedroom and turned. She said, huskily, “I’ll be right back,” and closed the door behind.

Minutes later, she walked out and stood before him wearing a sheer, blue nightgown, the candlelight dancing on her dark skin, her hair falling down over her soft shoulders and shimmering with light. Dusty took her in like a vista, her full, round breasts straining for freedom like corralled wild horses. The areolas stared at him like dark, exotic eyes. Honey was tall and her long brown legs looked strong and firm. Dusty held out his hand and she took it and sat beside him. The first kiss was soft as a flutterby’s wings. Dusty wrapped his big arm around her and she settled against him.

They pulled away from each other slightly, and Honey moistened her lips as they stared into each other’s eyes. She felt a tremor in her heart and her bare thigh tingled like an electric shock as his hand softly caressed it. Dusty’s intense blue eyes were like a cobalt summer sky, and she suddenly imagined herself flat on her back in a verdant field, languidly staring up at the cloudless day. They kissed again and her wet tongue teased the closed outline of his full lips. His mouth opened slightly, their tongues sliding together in a wet, delicious dance. They kissed deeply, their mouths like sensual open caves, tongues swirling madly, thoughtlessly. Honey took his tongue between her lips and gently sucked on it. His hand squeezed the firm flesh of her thigh and she moaned with expectation. Then their tongues again began to dance and Honey felt herself falling, falling, falling into that timeless place she hadn’t visited in years. She pulled back again and looked at him in wonder.

“Wow,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

Eric managed to get a few hours sleep in the cage before he was needed back in the bullpen. He was finding it more and more difficult to push her out of his mind. He went to get some coffee.

"Stiles," Lug said, breaking through his churning thoughts.

"Hey, what's up?" he replied as he grabbed his full cup of coffee.

"Trace on the box of blood came back," Lug said.

Eric walked to his desk. "And?"

"They found a piece of hair in the box sealant."

"Were they able to get a name?"

"Yeah," Lugow started as he looked down at his desk in hesitation. "It came as a match to a Veronica Naltin."

Eric froze as the name hit him in the chest. "What?"

"Yeah," Lug replied as Eric took a deep breath. "We double checked. There's no mistake."

"Jesus," Eric said as he leaned on the desk, his mind spinning uncontrolled.

Adam appeared and looked at him. "You told him?"

"Yeah."

"So now what?" Eric asked as he tried to reign in the fear that began to bubble in his stomach. They were not only dealing with a stalker, but now a ruthless killer.

"We start from the beginning," Adam said as Lug nodded. "We look at everything from both cases."

"We should look at anything that's happened since this guy made first contact with Rebecca," Lug suggested.

"Do we have a date?"

"The only specific date I have is two weeks before the teddy bear," Lug replied as he looked at his notes. "I will try and get something more specific."

"Where is she now?"

"Donna's," he said with a deep breath.

"Is she going to be safe there?"

"She'll be fine for now," Lugow added.

"Okay, let's get to work," Adam said.

Eric's phone rang. "Detective Stiles."

"Eric, we have a problem," Charlie said, sounding panicked and out of breath.

"What's going on?" he said, looking to Lug and Adam.

"Rebecca got a message from the stalker."

"When?"

"I little while ago," he replied.

Eric's heart began to race.

"We think he's going after Donna."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Something about the message."

"Did you hear it?"

"No."

"Let me talk to Rebecca," he said and then heard Charlie pass the phone to Rebecca.

"Eric," she said, sounding terrified and shaken.

Eric got to his feet as Adam followed him. "What did he say?"

"Uh, it was a joke."

"A what?"

"A knock, knock, joke."

"Tell me exactly what he said, Beccs."

"Knock, knock, who's there, Donna, Donna who, Donna turn around ka-boom," she said into the phone.

He could hear the agony in her voice. "Where are you?"

"On our way to Donna's office."

"Okay, let me talk to Charlie," he replied in an even tone. He heard her pass the phone back to Charlie.

"Hey," Charlie said.

Eric and Adam reached Adam's car. "Have either of you tried to call her yet?"

"Yeah, she's not answering, but Beccs said she had an early meeting."

"We're on our way to Donna's office as well, but you need to stall and keep Rebecca away until I tell you it's okay."

"That's going to be pretty hard to do."

"Listen to me, this could all be a way to lure Rebecca out into the open," Eric explained as Adam pulled onto the street. "Just stall long enough for us to make sure it's safe."

"Okay," Charlie agreed before Eric hung up.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

"Rebecca got a message from the stalker."

"What kind of message?"

"One with a ka-boom."

Eric, Adam, Lug and the bomb squad arrived in front of Donna's office twenty minutes later. Adam coordinated the sweep and evacuation of the building while Eric went looking for Donna. He stepped off the elevator and flashed his badge to the receptionist. "Detective Stiles, I need to speak with Donna Smith, it's an emergency," Eric said as the woman looked at him in confusion.

"I thought you were meeting her in the parking garage," the woman replied.

Eric spun, dashing to the elevator as he called Adam. "She was called down to the parking garage, I'm on my way now," Eric said into the phone hitting the P on the elevator. The doors opened moments later, and as he stepped off, he saw Donna leaning against her car with a look of irritation. "Donna!" he called out to her.

She shifted, looking.

He ran toward her.

"Eric, what's going on?" she asked as she moved to meet him.

Eric heard a door slam just to the left.

"Is Beccs alright?"

"She got a call from the stalker. He…"

"Donna!" Rebecca called as she ran toward them, Charlie in tow.

He realized that Rebecca was going to pass right in front of Donna's car. "Beccs, no!" he screamed, pushing Donna behind him just before the car exploded. The blast pushed both he and Donna off their feet as it shattered and sprayed glass across the parking lot.

Detective Cardoza walked over to the laptop and peered at the screen. He hit a key and looked up at Gabriel. “Murder? What is this?”

“No … nothing! I’m writing a novel. It’s none of your business!”

“Have you been overseas in the past five years?” Cardoza narrowed his eyes and continued grilling him. Gabriel was frightened, and he tried to hide his shaking hands.

“Well, I visited Puerto Rico when I was twelve, but that’s not overseas. That’s part of the U.S. It’s not a foreign …”

“Alright already!” Cardoza grimaced in annoyance. “Gabriel, I am Puerto Rican, so you don’t have to convince me.”

“So never been to a foreign country? Never to South America?” Cardoza moved closer. His hand reached for Gabriel’s face and he stroked his cheek with his thumb. He bent closer. Gabriel felt his hot breath, and looked into his intense eyes until he could no longer stand it.

Gabriel stood up from the bed suddenly and backed away from him. He stepped back nervously and the back of his leg struck the leg of a rickety chair. Before he could regain his balance, Gabriel began to fall.

Detective Cardoza’s notebook fell from his hands as he dashed forward and grabbed Gabriel by both shoulders. For a moment, Gabriel’s knees buckled and Cardoza was holding him close to his broad chest. Gabriel’s arms instinctively wrapped around him and the anxiety that had been eating away at his soul overwhelmed him. He began to sob into Cardoza’s chest and he held Gabriel tightly so that he heard the steady thumping of his heart.

With his left hand, Cardoza began to stroke Gabriel’s hair, and for a moment, he felt his warm breath near his ear. They were silent for what seemed to Gabriel like an eternity. For that moment, Gabriel felt as if he had died and was floating in a place where nothing bad could touch him. His father couldn’t hurt him and the questions were far away. All he was aware of was the spicy smell of Cardoza’s skin and his strong embrace. He wanted to stay like that forever.

Cardoza held him with one arm, and with the other tipped his head back. Gabriel couldn’t stop his lips from parting in welcome as the man dipped in and tasted him. With their faces so close, Gabriel felt the soft, hot breath of the man inviting him to come closer, to join with him. His tongue, which had avoided the one being thrust into him, now had a mind of its own and it shyly ventured into the other man’s mouth, but retreated hastily.

The act seemed to fuel Cardoza’s passion. He bent in so that Gabriel felt his balance slip. He was held by one strong arm around his waist and another holding him by the back. He sighed deeply as he felt the man’s erection poke his belly. His own rubbed against the man’s thigh. For a few breathless minutes, they joined, lips to lips, and hot bodies against unwanted clothing. Gabriel felt that he would burst, and the thought embarrassed him out of the man’s spell. It was like when you wake from a good dream and you want to continue sleeping, but it’s too late. Gabriel pushed away from him and saw that Cardoza’s eyes were slightly moist. Gabriel wished that they’d met under different circumstances, but then he remembered; Cardoza was the hunting dog, and he was the frightened fox.

“Enough for now,” Detective Cardoza said in a husky voice. “I’ll see you again soon, but take care of yourself. You better …” He broke off as if he were unsure of what to do next. Then he was gone.

Charlie looked up once again and he saw that the sun’s angle had changed, and red- gold sunlight poured over the scene. The brilliant rays of sunlight glowed on Yoshi’s skin and were refracted by the beads of water that clung to him. Yoshi was half turned away from him and he was running his hands down his chest. Charlie inched forward to get a better look. It seemed that the dour, pessimistic man had a sensual side to him that he kept under close guard. He snickered and Yoshi froze. He let out another shriek of alarm and leapt out of the stream.

Charlie felt his stomach clench with fear. A water moccasin! He scrambled out of the cave. How am I going to get him to a hospital!

Charlie’s heart was pounding as he reached him. Yoshi was clutching his clothes to his groin and staring between his legs with horror.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna die!” he wailed.

“Where did it bite you? Did you see what kind of snake it was? Was it dark brown or did it have a white …” Charlie stopped his tirade of questions and stepped back.

“Look!” Yoshi squeaked staring at the small brown tick that had attached itself to the skin of his dick. “I’m infected with lock jaw! I’ll die a horrible, painful, lingering death! Oh God, I should’ve listened to Daddy! Now look! To have it all end like this! The pointlessness of it all! Oh the pitiless gods …”

Charlie cut him off with uproarious laughter.

“This isn’t funny!”

Charlie laughed so hard that tears were squeezed out of his eyes. It felt good to laugh after such terrifying things had happened to them. He fell back against a tree, still heaving with laughter.

“You ain’t gonna die. This is your first tick, ain’t it? Congratulations. I’ve had hundreds. I’ve stepped in seed tick nests and had over fifty of them little babies stuck in me at once. You could die, but since I haven’t yet, I think there’s little chance you will anytime soon. You want me to help you pull it out?”

Charlie had said it as a joke, but when Yoshi nodded his head, he hid his eager grin and walked over to him. The ends of Yoshi’s shiny black hair held big drops of water that fell off and trickled down his skin. Charlie looked away from his hair, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracking the progress of a drop of dew as it made its way down his chest and belly to disappear under the hair over his cock. His anxious dark eyes still held worry and fear, but it was obvious that Charlie’s words had comforted him.

Charlie couldn’t believe his luck. He wanted so badly to get to touch that skin again. It really turned him on as pinched the tick and pulled it out. Yoshi howled. Charlie looked at him in surprise and saw him clutching the small spot of blood while he held his eyes shut tight against imaginary pain.

“You can let go of it now,” Yoshi finally said when he calmed down.

“You kidding? Do you really want to die? City people really are stupid. Don’t you know that ticks carry deadly lockjaw?”

Yoshi’s eyes grew wide. “But … but you said you’ve been bitten hundreds of times, and you’re alive!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I use the cure, like any smart country folk.”

“What … what cure?”

“Well, being a city person, maybe you just ought to go to the hospital.” Charlie tried to look disinterested.

“We can’t! That’s obvious, even to a country bumpkin like you! Those guys out there will kill us!”

“Okay, well I’ll tell you then, but the rest is up to you. See, cum juice, you know, a guy’s sperm is the only cure, especially iffin’ you get bit down there. I had an uncle whose cock swelled up like an overgrown zucchini squash.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well you know, he’s my aunt now. They had to cut it off. I swear I’m telling the truth! I can fix it for you. If y’ont to.”

“God, this is serious. I don’t want my dick to fall off, but how can I trust a horn dog like you?”

“That’s up to you, city guy. Don’t matter to me.”

“Okay, okay. But just do what you need to and cure me. And none of that shit from yesterday!” Yoshi’s face was red.

“Suit yourself. It would be faster, but I need help. Let me borrow your ass …”

“No! No! I just knew what you wanted!” Yoshi stamped his bare foot.

“Do you feel the swelling yet?” Charlie knew it would swell fast in that spot.

Yoshi trembled as he felt the bump with his finger. “Look, just jerk off! That should be enough!”

“Alright, but I can’t do it like that. At least let me use your thighs. I promise I won’t do nothing else.” Charlie threw off his clothes and jumped into the water quickly; he didn’t want to smell bad. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip by. He emerged hastily, already erect. George, his friend down there, didn’t like to waste time.

“Just put your hands on that tree there and hold your legs together. I’ll be done right quick.”

Yoshi did as he was told and Charlie put his arms around him. He kissed Yoshi’s neck and the guy trembled. He slid his wet cock between Yoshi’s legs and felt the tight nut-sack there. His body shook with anticipation as he began to thrust in, hitting that marvelously firm sack every time he pressed in deeper. His hands slid down and took Yoshi’s erect cock in them, pumping it in time with his thrusts. He felt Yoshi push into his hand, and he had to fight the urge to push deeper and higher. Those cherry cheeks called to George, and it was hard to fight off the bugger’s demands! Finally, Yoshi put both arms around the tree and Charlie heard a muffled cry. He made a final thrust, and he came too.

“Hurry, pervert! Fix me!” Yoshi hadn’t forgotten.

“Okay, okay. Just a minute! Charlie wiped cum from between Yoshi’s legs and rubbed the end of his dick, where the bite was. Yoshi shook, but he was getting stiff again.

“Hurry, damn it! I hate you touching me!”

“I can’t help it that you get turned on by me!”

“I don’t get turned on by you!” Yoshi looked disgusted. “It’s just a natural reaction any person has if you touch his dick.”

“No way! You can touch me all you want, and I won’t get turned on. Go ahead, I dare you!” Charlie tried to suppress his smile.

“Oh yeah! Well what if I do this?”

Samantha entered the house and hung up her coat. She walked to the picture window and looked out. She noticed the car on the road had disappeared. Taking a deep breath, she sat on a comfortable chair and felt her body relax.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, that would be great."

Kerry disappeared into the kitchen, humming a happy tune. She made them both a strong beverage and placed them on the coffee table. She then went over to the window and pulled the cord to close the curtains. While the drapes slowly moved across the window, she let out a cry of surprise.

"What is it?"

Kerry stood back from the window. "I thought I saw movement in the bushes. I'm sure it was a rabbit or something."

Samantha tried to remain calm. "I'll find us a movie to watch." She got up and looked through the video library. As she scanned the titles, the phone rang.

"I'll get it!" Kerry said.

Samantha heard her answer the phone in the adjoining room.

"Who is this? Hello…hello…"

She felt a chill run up and down her spine. Samantha had a feeling the stalker was outside the door. She came up to her friend and noticed the shocked look on her face. "Who was on the phone?"

Kerry placed the receiver in its cradle. "We should call the police. I think there's a man outside the door." She dialed the emergency number and relayed her message to the secretary. "Tell them to hurry!"

"What should we do now?"

Kerry stood undecided. "The guy on the other line said we were doomed."

That night, Jake came by around eight. I can't say why exactly, but I was really happy to see him. I'd been on edge since Frederick had told me his news, thinking about how I was going to avoid spending the rest of my life on some island somewhere.

"We leave for Philadelphia tomorrow," Jake told me. "Can you be ready?"

"Of course he can," Frederick said in my place. "When will you be back?"

"Could be the same day, but it depends when the contact gets in touch. Sometimes I have to wait a day or two."

"I want to know what hotel you'll be staying at if you have to stay over for the night," Frederick said.

"I'll call you when we get in," I offered.

"So, let's have a drink," Frederick said to Jake. "You're welcome to stay here, get an early start in the morning."

"Yes," I piped in because Frederick was staring at me, expecting me to help him out. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Jake shook his head. "I'll be here early in the morning. He looked at me. "Seven o'clock."

"I asked you to stay," Frederick said. His voice sounded tense.

"I'm sorry, Frederick, I can't stay. I have to go." Jake was already headed to the door.

"You do realise," Frederick boomed from where he sat on the sofa, "that you have just insulted me."

I held my breath.

Jake paused.

"My bodyguards are outside," Frederick stood. "You're not going anywhere unless I say."

Jake turned. He actually smiled. "Let's not get nasty, Frederick. If I want to leave, I'm leaving."

I looked at Frederick. I didn't want to see Jake hurt. "Please," I said, smiling nervously, "let's not create bad blood so early in the--"

"Shut up," Frederick snapped. He fixed Jake with his gaze. "I let you fuck David. The least you could do is share a little of that with me."

"It's not going to happen," Jake replied tersely. "Now, I'll say goodnight." He opened the door.

"Boys," Frederick called out. "My guest is leaving way too soon."

"Please, Frederick, don't," I begged.

Frederick glared at me. "You're just a little too overprotective, I think." He shoved me away.

Andy and Horace were blocking Jake's path.

"Please get out of my way," Jake asked politely.

"You're not going anywhere," Andy told him.

What happened at that moment occurred too fast for me to follow, even though I saw it all in person and then on the camera.

Andy went flying. So did Horace. They tried to attack Jake again and suddenly Horace was unconscious. Andy was on his knees, with his arm twisted around his back. "I'll break his arm," Jake called out, looking into the camera. "Call them off, Frederick."

Jake was referring to the others who stood outside the gate with their guns poised.

"Put down your weapons, boys," Frederick said at the door, looking at Jake. "It seems your talents extend beyond the bedroom. Very impressive."

Jake glanced sharply at me.

I never told Frederick anything about Jake's performance the night we'd had sex.

"Make them kick their guns away and get back into the vehicle," Jake demanded.

"Do what he says, boys." Frederick sighed.

When the others were back in the vehicle, Jake released Andy and shoved him toward the door. "Go to your master, lap dog."

I watched him walk away. I didn't let out a breath until he was in his car and had driven away.

Her mind heavy, her body began to awaken. Piece by piece, the pain started to pulse through her muscles. It started with the burning ache of her leg, and moved up to a spiraling throb in the small of her back, a hardness in her chest, and then blinding pain behind her eyes.

She tried to move, hearing the scraping of metal, her body trembled in resistance. Her eyes opened to faint whispering light and a pipe covered ceiling.

Another basement.

Her mind spun but she allowed herself to just breathe and not move. She waited for her thoughts to settle.

She got away.

Rebecca opened her eyes again, taking a deep breath of relief. Lucy managed to get away and she prayed her sister was somewhere safe. Now she just needed to keep her head straight until Eric found her, or another opportunity for escape presented itself.

She lifted herself off the hard ground and her body screamed in protest. Cold metal against her hand, she grabbed one of the surrounding pipes, using it to sit upright. The area was much smaller than the previous room, with no break of light except a single door.

Rebecca pulled her throbbing right leg beneath her and noticed an unfamiliar weight around her ankle. The scraping of metal broke through the darkness, and she reached down feeling thick rusted metal. Her eyes began to adjust to the lack of light. She focused on the area to see an ancient lead manacle beneath her hand. It was attached to a bulky chain hanging heavy on the floor. She followed it along the wall before ending at a set of large solid pipes.

Beautiful.

She stretched out her opposite leg to examine her injury. She pulled at the fabric covering her leg, until she saw blood. It didn't look bad, a simple flesh wound. She debated whether to expend the energy to stand. Before she could decide, the door opened.

Two of Marco's thugs enter the room. They wordlessly unlocked the binding around her leg and hauled her to her feet. Once her leg was free, they yanked her forward and dragged her out of the room. They exited the basement prison and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust before she could discern where she was. An open luxury house, they led her down a hallway, shoved her into a room, and locked the door. The room was beautiful. Hardwood floors, cream painted walls, and an antique bed covered in copper hued pillows and blankets.

She moved to the windows, and discerned the seal fusing the frames and thick plexiglas. A second door led to a lush but windowless bathroom. Her hand pushed through her hair in frustration, and she moved back into the main room. She faced the bed. Its softness called to her weary body. She struggled not to lie down and let herself sink into mindless bliss.

It was then she noticed the black dress lain out on top. A pair of black stilettos on the floor.

"Get cleaned up, and put on the dress. You have an hour," she heard echo through the small room.

"Why should I?" she called back, receiving no response until the door opened. A thug entered, his gun poised against his chest.

"You have an hour," the faceless voice repeated, and she begrudgingly grabbed the dress off the bed. The thug's eyes boring into her back, she moved to the bathroom and closed the door.

Shit.

Reluctantly stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower. Unable to take any enjoyment out of the heated streams of water sliding against her body, she effectively washed away the physical dirt. Her skin, however, continued to crawl the residual filth of discomfort covering her body. Without warning, the world around her went fuzzy. She planted her hands against the tile of the wall waiting for the spell to pass.

Come on Beccs, you need to pull it together. You can't lose it yet. You have to keep going.

You have to keep going.

You can do this… just breathe…

The shower allowed her to breathe, and her sight cleared. She stepped and shivered despite the warmth of the room. The dress slid over her body, but its flawlessness made her feel disjointed and foreign. She tugged at the zipper and took in her reflection. Her bruised face staring at her. She gulped back the tears threatening to fall., She acknowledged all the damage he had done and her hands shook as she fought for control.

She ached for Eric. Closing her eyes she could almost feel his arms around her, the warmth of his chest against her cheek.

He will come.

He will find me.

She heard the door of the bedroom opening and spun toward it. Marco entered, motioning her to join him. She lingered, looked at the armed guard behind him and then moved.

"Rebecca, you have to admit. I have extremely good taste." He moved around her, licking his lips, while scrutinizing her body. He moved closer and she restrained her disgust with a short breath. "Your body really does fill that dress in all the right places."

She felt him just behind her shoulder. His hand rested on the small of her back. It proceeded to shift down her hip, and then across her lower abdomen like a tentacle. He moved to face her, his eyes cold and darting. He decided to brush the inside of her leg, and she suppressed a tremble of loathing.

"It's not often a dress pales in comparison to the body it encompasses. It's too bad Detective Stiles isn't here to enjoy it with me." His breath on her neck, a chill ran up her spine, the blood draining from her cheeks. "You look so pale, sweetheart, did I hit a nerve?"

Mid-breath, she straightened her back and lowered her shoulders. His face stopped within inches of hers.

"What you did with Lucy was…brave," he taunted, staring down at her lips. "It makes me wonder about Detective Stiles' bravery in his time of trial."

"What are you boasting about now?" she asked, lining her voice with thick sarcasm, lifting her chin in defiance of him.

"Tit for Tat, Beccs." His hand rested on her hip, and he smiled. "You take something from me, and I take something from you. You didn't really think I was going to let it go…did you?"

Her heart panicked uncontrolled but she refused to take what he was saying at face value. He was taunting her, trying to get her to fight him, so he had an excuse. He was pissed at what she'd done, so he was trying to torture her.

His eyes remained focused on her lips. She turned her face away from him in disgust. Within a breath, he yanked at her hair and she felt his tongue against her now exposed neck.

"You don't believe me?" he said into her neck and she fought the rising fury sweeping through her.

Marco held a cell phone up for her to see. A picture of Eric on the ground covered in blood. His face dark, his eyes closed.

She turned away from the photograph, in an attempt to deny the panic rising in her chest. He grabbed her hair and forced her to look at the image. Despite her efforts to push it out of her mind, her body trembled when the reality hit.

"He's not coming for you Rebecca. You're all alone. No one is coming for you, and soon, you won't want them to.

Comfortably in bed after beignets and community coffee at Café Du Monde, she glanced toward the open window on the sixteenth floor of their hotel room, a gift to them from Laurent. A cool southern breeze swayed the curtains as the space on the mattress next to her indented.

“Are you thinking about me darlin’?”

Jett’s seductive voice had a way of wrapping around her like a favorite blanket, making her feel safe and secure. “I’m thinking about this sexy dancer I know.”

“Really? Is he good at what he does?”

Sophia bit back a chuckle. “I don’t remember…I mean…it’s been so long.”

He embraced her, gently covered his already nude body over hers. Looking down at her, he brushed the stray hair from in front of her face. “Really? You don’t remember how good of a lover he is?”

Jett’s sandalwood scent wafted across her senses, she touched his cheek. “One thing I do remember…I’ve never loved another human being like I love him.”

He pressed his body against hers until their noses touched. His breath lingered on her lips, then he whispered, “This man loves every part of you…and always will.”

“Show me Jett.” Her voice cracked in her throat.

Sophia tightened her arms around him, lost in the whirlwind of sensations moving through her body like a funnel cloud. He rubbed against her, the thick bulge between his legs pulsed against her pelvis. The heat in his loins exceeded the inferno working through every vein in her body.

“Take your clothes off for me.” His voice begged. “Strip for me, Sophia.”

He released her, slid his body upright placing his back against the headboard, covered the lower half of his body with the sheet. Patiently he waited, his hooded gaze zeroed in on her as she sat briefly before kneeling in front of him. Hoping she’d pasted her most sexy look on her face, she reached for the hem of her nightgown, and slipped it over her head.

“Very nice.” His surveying gesture moved up and down her body. “Remove the underwear.”

His wish was her command. She slipped them off without a bit of awkward maneuvering. “Is that better?”

The hunger in his gaze practically melted the skin from her face. “We’re getting there. Come here.” He slipped the covers down strategically uncovering his lower body. His cock jutted forward. “Make love to me darlin’.”

Niko Davaris bolted upright in the heavy darkness of his hotel room. His naked body dripped with sweat and his chest heaved as he gulped air into his lungs. Remnants of his all-too-familiar dream stayed with him. Visions of blue-tipped flames danced in front of his wide eyes. The smell of gasoline still stung his nostrils after all this time, and the sound of car metal crashing over jagged rocks echoed in his head.

A nightmare I can't seem to get away from. His throat felt parched. He flung off the sheets draped around his waist and dug his fingers into the firm mattress in an attempt to stop his body's tremors.

Click.

The unmistakable sound of a gun cock.

Fuck! Niko froze with his right leg hanging off the side of the bed. How did Vicente find me?

The sound came from the foot of the bed, but the room remained pitch black--he couldn't see a thing. Stiff fingers crept under the pillow for the SIG P90 he kept there.

"Tsk, tsk. Bad boy." The throaty female voice halted his movements. It skitted over his skin and left goose bumps in its wake.

What the hell?

The overhead light flicked on. He blinked at the brightness, then took in his uninvited guest sprawled in the black leather armchair at the foot of the bed. She looked at him through lowered eyelids, head tilted back. The left side of her head was shaved close to the scalp, but the right side appeared untouched. Bangs, kissed with light pink, obscured her right eye. Dark waves brushed a shoulder the shade of creamy sepia. A nickel plated Glock pointed at his head.

"Who the fuck are you?" He couldn't believe this person got the drop on him.

Her bow lips curved into a smile and she dragged her gaze down his body.

A muscle began a slow tick in his jaw.

"Nice view." She licked her lips.

His cock pulsed. Niko fought the urge to cover the wayward organ. She had the gun, so no sudden movements. "Who are you?" he demanded again. Fuck, he hated repeating himself.

She stood, gun still trained on him. She was barely five-foot-five and built. Make that stacked.

Huge breasts spilled out of a pink bustier. An image of his face buried between them flashed in his mind and made his groin tighten. Her smooth stomach was exposed and the tiniest waist, about the span of his hands, flared out to wide hips. Black leggings were tucked into black knee boots complete with silver buckles and almost four inch heels.

Her gaze zeroed in on his cock. "You have something I need, Niko."

Fuck if he didn't get harder at her statement. Then it registered, she knew his name. It could mean only one thing--after hiding for three years, his past had finally caught up with him.

Niko cleared his throat. He needed to distract her to get his gun. Regret churned in his gut at the prospect of hurting a woman, but he couldn't think about that. It was clearly him or her.

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage," he growled.

"I know, right? Hardly seems fair." Her husky laugh sent sweat trickling down his spine.

What was it about this woman that made his long-neglected body react? He studied her heart-shaped face with its pert nose and full lips. Enjoyment sparkled in the depths of her almond eyes.

"Who sent you?" Niko's voice hardened as he grew tired of all the questions and no answers.

His visitor raised a perfectly arched brow. "Oh, honey. Do I look like I take orders?"

"What do you want then?"

All trace of softness vanished from her face. Her eyes became glacial. If Niko didn't know before, now he did. This wasn't someone to be messed with. Unfortunately for her, neither was he.

"The flash drive."

Not the answer he expected. He shook his head. "Sorry, no clue what you're talking about." That flash drive was his leverage against the man who tried to kill him, but put him in a coma instead. Niko waited three years for his shot at Vicente, there was no way he'd let the woman in front of him take it away.

The stranger nodded once as if she'd come to some kind of decision and walked backward to the chair with the burner still trained on him. "Shall I tell you a story, Niko?"

She continued on without waiting for his reply. "I believe I shall." She sat. "So there I am, crawling through the godforsaken air ducts of Harper Royce's office, when three men enter the room dressed in black."

Mother. Fuck. She knew.

"Shall I go on, Niko?" She pursed her lips and waited for his reply.

Mute, he shook his head.

"I thought not. Now, why don't we start over? And you can forget about the SIG, it's mine now." Gaze and gun on him, she reached down with her free hand. Sure enough, when she held her hand up, there was the SIG.

Damn, she's good.

The air seemed to disappear as his arm dropped. Eric had to remind himself how to breathe. He went through the motions, his brain signaled his lungs to expand and yet still nothing happened. The absence of oxygen started to cloud his vision. He ordered his legs to move. A moment later, he stepped into the sunshine. The hot desert breeze mocked him as it curled around his neck.

His chest moved and his mind seemed to reconnect with his body. He closed his eyes, his heart processing the information from Dr. Raines before tucking it away.

Charlie pulled up and they headed out to the first address on the list of possible locations Marco Valnes could be holding Rebecca and Lucy. Along with Jorge's location, they also made a list of every location recently deserted or sold.

Eric's mind spun with the passing scenery, the clock in his brain continuing to tick. The sun rose, bringing with it the harsh light of reality. A new day without Rebecca and his heart thudded painfully in his ears. It seemed easier in the dark of the night. The blackness cushioned the raging of his heart, but now the day dawned and she was still missing.

His thoughts turned dark and he rejected them. No. I am going to find her.

"Which way?"

Charlie's voice pulled Eric out of his head.

"Eric?"

He did his best to push the helplessness away, shove it down and lock it in a steel trap for another time. "Left." Gulping back the pressure that surrounded his heart before, he turned his attention to the road ahead.

"Is that it?"

"Yeah."

Charlie pulled off the road and parked the truck before reaching beneath the seat to grab Eric's spare weapon.

"Ready?"

Charlie nodded and the pair stepped out of the truck and split up. He took the back and Eric the front.

Eric swerved through the maze of dead trees and scattered brush before he reached the front porch and climbed the steps. The place looked deserted, but there was no sense in taking any risks.

"Las Vegas Police, anybody home?"

With no response, Eric tried the door. It turned in his hand and opened without effort. He quickly cleared the door, searching each room, he found the house abandoned.

"Charlie!"

"Clear!" his brother called from the back of the house.

He pushed the air out of his lungs, heard his brother's footsteps and holstered his weapon. They investigated the entire house, top to bottom. His mind throbbed with agonizing weight, the blackness of despair hovered just a few breaths away. "This place is deserted. There hasn't been anyone here in a while."

"You're sure?" Charlie met him on the porch.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Why, did you find something?"

"No."

Eric shook his head as he took one last look. Charlie followed behind and they got into the truck, looking up the second address.

"The next address is outside Indian Springs," Eric said as Charlie pulled onto the road. Eric dialed Lug, who was heading the search from the police station, and got his voicemail. His focus went to the scenery, consciously keeping himself centered and steady.

His phone buzzed and he answered. "Detective Stiles."

"Stiles," Lug said. "They found one of the girls."

"Where?"

"Crystal Springs PD."