by Tara Nina
May did her best to hold back her tears while she tried to tell Gavin what happened. “One of the twins is a hostage in the back of a van. I have no clue where they were headed. The other is in a car in pursuit of the van.”
“Och, what a way to learn about the horseless carriage,” he joked and she knew he tried to cheer her. He cleared his throat. “Mi brathairs and I are on our way. Ye can fill us in on the details when we arrive at your hotel.”
“Thank you, Gavin.”
“You okay?” Jameson asked from behind her. She’d been so focused on trying to speak with Gavin she hadn’t heard him arrive. May disconnected the call, wiped her eyes and turned to face him.
“Not really,” she said, forcing a thin smile. “I made a horrible mistake. In my rush to find the twins, I let my guard down and Leod got the upper hand.”
His right eyebrow rose. “I think there’s a lot more to this story than you’ve shared with me so far.” He took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. “But right now you’re exhausted. I can see it in your face. The police are almost done here. When they are, Charles will drive us to your hotel.”
She leaned against him, accepting the safe haven his lap offered. What a mess she’d made of things. “Thank you, Jameson. I don’t know what I would have done without your help tonight.” She brushed a kiss to his cheek. “You gave me the best present I could ever have asked of you.”
His brows arched as he met her gaze. “As I remember it, we seem to have temporarily lost the gift. One’s been taken from us and the other has run off in hot pursuit.”
She smiled. “Temporarily. I like that term.”
“I meant it, May. We will get them back.”
Chapter Five
Cait sat down hard in the far corner of the van. She hugged her knees to her chest and lowered her forehead onto her knees. What a night. Here she was captive in the back of a van with no clue what the hell was going on other than the fact some lunatic brotherhood might be behind it. Ugh. Why did she listen to a drunken nutcase in a bar? Jenny was right. Jenny! She jerked the cell phone from her pocket. No signal. She couldn’t call her or the authorities.
Ohmygod. She prayed Jenny was okay. If they survived this, Jenny would never let her forget this ordeal. A crazy man and his hooded band of misfits, a guy in a wheelchair and a lady, all fighting over a crate of supposedly cursed statues. It sounded like a really bad B-movie.
She searched her thoughts, hoping to piece together what might have happened to Jenny. Everything occurred so fast. Squeezing her eyes tight, Jenny came into view in her mind’s eye. The last she’d seen Jenny, one of the hunky twins was defending her.
And the other twin ended up in here with her.
She lifted her head and opened her eyes but it was too dark to see. She pulled a soft leather manicure case from her back pocket. She’d converted it into a practical emergency supply kit. Jenny picked on her for carrying it everywhere, but she didn’t care. Now she was grateful she had it. Cait slid the zipper open and felt for the miniature flashlight. Once she located it, she pushed the button. The light wasn’t bright, but it was enough to see whatever she pointed it directly on.
Quickly, she evaluated the contents of the kit—a small multi-tool pocketknife, a full book of matches, bandages, a foil packet of antibiotic cream, a couple of alcohol wipes, a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, a spare battery for the flashlight, tweezers, a nail file, a needle, a thin packet of thread and a firecracker just because you never knew when you were going to need one. Her eccentric uncle’s words whispered through her head and she smiled. Now there was a man who loved to blow things up. She zipped it closed, then panned the light around the van.
Her companion was crouched in the center as if ready to pounce. Holding the flashlight with her mouth, she scooted on her hands and knees over to him. Once at his side, she took the flashlight in one hand and touched his arm with her other hand.
“You okay?” Pure fear danced across his pale face and his skin was clammy.
“What sort of beast be this?” he demanded in a shaky voice.
Cait opened her mouth, ready to mock his choice of words but her voice stalled in her throat. Had what she’d seen at the warehouse been real? Was it a magic trick of sorts or were they really two men cursed as the older woman claimed? She’d heard the woman speak a beautiful verse and saw the statues shake and crack. Dust filled the air so thick nothing could be seen. When it settled, two gorgeous men sat in the statues’ place. But had they somehow replaced the statues with living, breathing men while visibility was nil? Was there a trapdoor under the crate like that of a magic show’s stage? So many questions cluttered her brain to the point her head hurt.
Deciding to play along until she figured it out, she simply answered his childlike question. “This is a cargo van.”
“What be a cargo van?” He stumbled over the words as if they grated his tongue.
Cait rolled her eyes. So this was how he planned to play it. “A cargo van is a motorized vehicle, which is larger than a car and used to haul big loads.”
“Milady, I no understand. Where are the horses?”
She licked her lips as she configured her response. Now really wasn’t the time to play twenty stupid questions. “Listen, I’m not sure if I believe in this curse bit. So if’n you’re an actor playing a part, you might want to stop now. Whether you realize it or not, we’ve been taken hostage and are locked in here for lord knows how long by lord knows who.”
His stare hardened as if he’d considered her words and found them offensive. “Lassie, I know not of which ye speak. I am no actor. I am a hostage same as ye. Mi name be Donnell MacKinnon of Clan MacKinnon. Last I remember was lying down in a drunken stupor next to mi brathair. How I came to awaken in this foreign location be a puzzle.”
Even though she wasn’t totally buying the cursed-man thing, she did believe he was in the same boat. They both were locked in the back of this van against their will. She sat back on her heels and kept the light where she could see his face without it being directly in those gorgeous green eyes.
Casually, she let the light flicker over the rest of him. In the warehouse, she’d gotten a decent look at him that had sparked her libido. But now he was all hers to enjoy. A bit of dirt and dust coated his flesh, adding validity to the cursed theory. Okay. So if he was a man who’d been imprisoned in stone, he had to be in need of a good woman. And what better way to kill time while waiting to find out where they were going and why? Maybe, just maybe, he’d let slip who he really was and what was going on if his guard was down.
And when was a man’s guard down?
She smiled, remembering the advice of her Gran. If’n ya ever want to know the truth from a man, ask him during sex. The blood seeps from the brain to his dick, lowering his mental locks and loosening his lips. If’n that don’t work, get him drunk. She almost laughed out loud at the memory. Now there was a woman with spirit. Cait looked at Donnell and knew what Gran would do if’n she were a younger lass. She’d go for it. A grin split her lips. This was one piece of advice she didn’t mind taking.
Since she didn’t happen to have any liquor handy, sex seemed to be the justifiable method of choice.If she played him just right, he’d drop this act and his real identity would surface. If nothing else, she’d at least have a good time while being bounced around like a couple of balls. Might as well bounce for fun.
Sex was sex, plain and simple, and with a hunk like this one, all she hoped was that he wasn’t gay. It’d be just her luck. Locked in a van with a gorgeous man and she wasn’t his flavor. She slid a little closer and tested the waters. Being confined with him was making her horny. Or was it the fear of possibly dying at the end of this trip making her hormones run rampant with the idea that this might be her last chance at a good tumble? She shrugged. It didn’t matter which. She needed information and was willing to make the sexual sacrifice to get it.
Cait positioned the light so she could see his face and he could see
hers. “MacKinnon, if what you say is true, it’s been a really long time for you and I know it’s been quite a while for me.” She stretched upward and leaned closer, giving him her best wickedly inviting smile. “What say you to a bit of sex? If’n I’m going to die when this van stops, at least I’ll go out happy.”
Boldly she slid her hand under his kilt and up his thigh. His eyes widened with surprise that quickly flashed into desire the moment her fingertips made contact with his cock. Nice was the only word that filled her thoughts at the flesh in her hand.
“Milady, no let it be said a MacKinnon denied a lady’s request. Would nay be gentlemanly.”
Sheer heat scorched her from her lips to her toes when his mouth took command of hers. The man could kiss. She had to give him that one. His hands skimmed her arms then cupped her arse, causing her to shiver. Before she lost the flashlight, she managed to tuck it in the front pocket of her jeans. The head of the light pointed out of her pocket, illuminating the area as best as possible.
As she caressed his cock, it twitched and hardened. Oh baby, she needed to be naked and fast. Cait released him and separated from the kiss. As she untucked the shirt from her jeans, he grabbed the material and pulled it up her torso. Apparently, he wanted her naked as well. Cait crossed her arms and lifted it off over her head and dropped it at her side. His hands found her breasts as his face nuzzled between them.
“I do love a well-endowed lass,” he claimed. The heat of his breath to her skin sent chills across her breasts and straight to her nipples, instantly turning them to steel points. As if he couldn’t wait for her to remove the bra, he lifted her breasts from the cups, thumbing her areolas in gentle circles before flicking each nipple once with the tip of his tongue.
Moisture flooded her pussy. Damn. He was good at getting her wet with his skilled foreplay. She second-guessed the rapid response of her body. It had to be the stress of the situation heightening the effects of his ministrations. All thought left her brain when his mouth engulfed a breast, sucking it in deep, grazing its tender flesh with his teeth, then capturing the nipple in a pleasurable tug. If she wasn’t wet before, she definitely was now.
Cait squirmed, wanting to ride him hard and fast. She popped the hooks on her bra and flicked it off her arms. She undid her jeans and attempted to graciously wiggle out of them as she toed off her flats. Hot, naughty sex was the best. Doing it in the back of a van while being held hostage was a first, and the thrill of it had her hungry for this hunk’s cock. Danger excited her. Always had. As she fought with her jeans, he slid his hands along her bared flesh, making her wish she undressed faster. With the jeans off, she quickly laid them so the light was kept on them. She liked being able to see the gorgeous man.
His fingers found her slit and his mouth left her breast. Awe filled his tone. “Mi little minx be shaven clean. Ye are a treasure chest of surprises.” Before she could think, he had her on her back and he lay between her thighs. “Och. To have the chance to taste ye brèagha neamhnaid—pretty pearl—without the nuisance of hair.”
His tongue dug between the folds of her slit and nearly sent her over the edge with one skillful swipe. Any questions she wanted to ask about his identity dissipated into a purple haze as lust took full control. Cait lifted her hips, gyrating against his face. He cupped her buttocks while he feasted, licking and sucking her juices, pumping his tongue in and out of her, bringing her closer to orgasm. When he latched on to her clit and sucked it hard, she knotted her fingers in his hair and screamed as she peaked.
Her heart pounded as she gulped for air. He lowered her bottom and traversed her body, kissing and nipping a path along her skin. His face hovered above hers as he positioned himself at the orifice between her thighs. Cait was already in heaven when he entered her. This was simply an additional layer of pleasure upon pleasure. Being at her partner’s mercy wasn’t normally her style but for now, it was rocking her world letting him do most of the work.
Swift strokes in and out caressed her inner muscles, sending phenomenal sensations to every ounce of her being. He kissed her long and sensually while balancing his weight on his legs and elbows, and still managed to thrust a steady rhythm. She relaxed, enjoying the thrill of fucking such a wonderfully skilled man. He wasn’t her first, but he was the first to have caused such an explosive orgasm with what seemed to be minimal effort on his part.
As the crest rose again inside her, Cait gathered his face in her hands. She intensified their kiss, warring tongue against tongue in a valiant attempt to match his kissing ability. She needed to fuck harder. She planted her feet and pumped her pelvis in time with his thrusts. Deeper. She liked this better. She’d taken a breather but now she was pushing him to increase their pace. She broke from the kiss and nipped his earlobe.
“It’s my turn to lead this dance.” Not sure how she accomplished it, she rolled them onto his back so she could ride him, wild, hard and fast. She knew she should be using the sexual distraction to do something other than enjoy, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she wanted to ask. Feeling him beneath her sent her thoughts into hyperdrive, focused strictly on fucking him.
Donnell wasn’t sure how he’d gotten where he was, but at the moment he wasn’t complaining. His hands were full of a voluptuous woman who apparently liked to be on top. With his kilt balled around his waist, the lass had full access to his shaft, which was nicely situated inside her. He liked the bounce of her full bosom as she controlled their pleasure. The smooth flesh of her bottom teased his hands as he massaged the wondrous globes, urging her to rock back and forth in a generous motion.
But he didn’t have to guide this woman. She knew what she wanted and took it from him. Och, where had he landed? Were all the women here this adventurous? Releasing her buttocks, he caught her breasts in both hands, stilling their magnificently mesmerizing dance as she rode him. He hoped he read her wild-eyed gaze correctly and took a chance, pinching her nipples hard. Her head lolled back as she squealed in delight and moisture soaked his cock. A smile tugged at his lips. He’d guessed right. She liked it a bit on the rougher side of naughty.
Digging in his heels, he drove into her. She leaned forward, palms flat on his abdomen, and met him pump for pump. The second she nipped his nipple he nearly came. Pain mixed with pleasure spurred him onward. The beautiful wench on his cock knew how to give as much as she took. If she wanted a wicked ride, then he intended to give it to her.
He smacked her arse. Her eyes widened. Pure heat filled her dazed stare but she didn’t miss a beat as she swiveled her hips round and round. The move made his bawls tighten. He was close. She leaned back while continuing to rock on his cock. He supported her by grabbing her luscious bottom. When she reached behind her and ran her fingernail along the sweet spot between his anus and bawls, he came undone. That move was unexpected and definitely one he liked.
Liquid heat spurted from his cock and swirled around it, as he remained cocooned within her sheath. She fit him perfectly. He liked the sensations of her inner muscles coaxing his shaft for every last drop as their pleasures combined. He knew he’d released her essence at least three times during this coupling, but was it enough for this magnificent woman? If not, she’d have to wait a bit for him to recuperate and then he’d more than happily try again.
He sighed heavily when she collapsed against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he was grateful for a moment to rest as he closed his eyes. Several long seconds passed before his eyes opened and he realized even a great bout of sex didn’t change anything. They were still prisoners, locked in this moving beast she’d called a van without a clue as to where they were going or why they’d been taken.
Donnell prayed his brathair Dour was safe. The van hit a bump, bouncing them around. He tightened his grip and refused to lose hold of the woman.
“Ye are safe, lass,” he reassured her when she tried to slide off him. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her brow as she settled back into place on top of him. Sa
dly, his cock softened and lost its haven in her heat. Holding her gave him comfort and for some reason he spoke the words of his thoughts. “Do ye know what became of mi family?”
“No,” she replied softly. The warmth of her mouth caressed his chest as she spoke. “Until today, I didn’t know you existed.” Her head shifted and she stared at him. “You truly believe you are a MacKinnon cursed for over two hundred years?”
“Aye.”
“I promise you, if’n we make it out of here alive, I’ll help you find them.” The sincerity in her voice touched him.
He caressed her cheek. “I make ye a promise, lass. We shall survive this.”
His words seemed to soothe her because her body relaxed in his arms. The sound of a low snore floated to his ears and it made him smile. She’d fallen asleep. At least it didn’t match the wall-rattling sound his twin made when passed out drunk. Donnell didn’t move, wanting her to rest. He sensed there’d be no chance for such when they reached their destination. Keeping one arm around her, he used his other as a pillow for his head. With his eyes closed, images of a past long gone filtered through his thoughts.
Had any of his other brathairs been freed? The redhead hadn’t said. Yet again, she’d not been given a chance considering the circumstances. He and Dour woke in the middle of a struggle, which had apparently been about them. But why? It made no sense.
His family, his brathairs were felled by a curse. Those words had to have been spoken by someone with a strong hate against his clan. It took no more than a second before the possible culprit surfaced in his memories. One face burned bright and his eyes sprang open. MacGillivray. The coward of a man had to be the arse to have done such a thing. Tavia wasn’t his to claim. She’d wed his brathair, Gavin. That should’ve ended it. But Donnell bet that it didn’t. Every fiber of his being wanted to strike out against this man, to cause him harm he’d never forget.
