by Penny Reid
Stan strolled to the doorway of the bedroom, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s in here, but he’s all tied up. Anyone have a knife?”
Wally galloped in, running through Stan’s legs.
“Wally!” I called to him, grinning at my awesome dog as he jumped on the bed. But then he started licking my face, which made me laugh ’cause I couldn’t get away. I tried turning my head and he just bounded to the other side, still licking my face. Which meant I had my eyes closed and my lips rolled between my teeth when he was finally pulled away.
Hands came to my cheeks.
I opened my eyes.
BAM.
There she was.
“Kat.”
She filled my vision, leaning over me, her chin wobbling, her eyes shining with emotion. She took a breath, then another, then a third before speaking.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I let my eyes move over her, finding solace in the familiar landscape of her gorgeous face. The shitty feeling was back and I embraced it. Actually, I tackle-hugged it. “I’m actually fine.”
“How is your head?” Her fingers tentatively moved through my hair. “Did they—”
“No. They didn’t knock me out. Just . . . There were ten of them. Maybe twenty. All with guns, semiautomatics. Seamus really brought out the heavy artillery,” I lied. Right there on the spot.
Yeah. I lied. I didn’t want her to know I’d been overpowered by four idiots with a single taser. So sue me.
Don’t give me that look. You would’ve lied, too.
Kat stared at my face, her brow wrinkling with confusion.
I heard someone clear their throat from behind her in a way that made me think they were trying not to laugh.
“You dumbfuck.” This was Quinn. He strolled forward, presumably so I could see him, but maintained a solid four feet between him and the bed. “Your mother doesn’t know what happened. We didn’t tell her. We’re leaving you now.” Then to Kat, he said, “I’ll call my contact at the Boston PD and get the ball rolling on reporting all this. Message if you need anything—anything—we’ll be just downstairs.”
“Thank you.” She nodded, then turned to look over her shoulder. “Thank you all.”
That’s when my eyes moved to the door and I realized everyone—and I do mean everyone—was standing just inside the doorway.
“Glad you’re safe, Dan.” Janie passed baby Desmond to Quinn and grinned at me. “The average ransom demand is two million dollars, so you should feel pretty good about your life’s monetary worth.”
Leaving me with that fascinating tidbit, Janie and Quinn left.
“Do you need me to examine you?” Elizabeth offered, frowning as her eyes moved over me. “How’s your head? Those ropes are going to leave a mark.”
“I’m fine. Really. The worst thing they did was tie me up.”
“You’re getting hemp rope from Christmas,” Nico said, capturing his wife’s hand and tugging her out of the room, calling out, “See you tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sandra used her index and middle fingers to point at her own eyes, and then used them to point at us. “And I shall find you both tomorrow for some commiseration. Got it?”
“Hey. Thanks for watching Wally,” I said, giving her a grateful smile.
Wally wagged his tail at the sound of his name, did a little dance around the carpet, and then settled on the rug leading into the bathroom.
“No problem, Chachi.” Alex placed his hands on Sandra’s shoulders, gave me a devious little smirk, and turned Sandra toward the living room.
That fucking kid.
“Do you need help with the rope?” Drew was sliding a knife out of his boot.
“I’ll take it.” Kat stood and Drew placed it handle first in her outstretched palm. “Thank you.”
“Y’all let us know if you need anything. Cheese, or a different kind of cheese, or cheese pie, or cheesecake. Just let us know.” Ashley made her offer to Kat, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder just before she and Drew left.
“Who tied those knots?” Greg, arms crossed, was studying Ricky’s handiwork from a distance. “Those are impressive knots.”
“Come on.” Fiona shifted their infant daughter to her other shoulder, then pushed on Greg to guide him from the room. “I’m sure Dan will fill you in tomorrow, maybe teach you a thing or two so you don’t have to learn it on the streets.” Then to me, she said, “Glad you’re back and safe.”
Marie gave me a little wave as Fiona and Greg walked past. “We’re so happy you’re okay.” Her gaze shifted to Kat. “Both of you.”
“Where’s your guy?” I asked, craning my neck to see if he was around, and relieved to find he wasn’t. Since I didn’t know the guy very well, it would have been fifty shades of awkward for him to see me like this.
“Matt is flying out tonight—I guess right now—he’ll be here for the party tomorrow. Oh, wait, will there be a party tomorrow?”
Kat stiffened, and started shaking her head, so I spoke over her before she had a chance to answer. “Of course there’ll be a party tomorrow. And after, you ladies are supposed to knit at my mom’s house. She’s so frickin’ excited about it.”
Marie grinned, but her eyes were sympathetic. “Are you sure? You’ve just been kidnapped.” She chuckled a little, probably at the lunacy of the entire situation.
“Get out of here, I’m fine. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
With one more smile for both of us, and a reminder to call if we needed anything, Marie turned and left. I heard the penthouse door open, close, and then silence.
My eyes moved to Kat. She was standing at the foot of the bed, holding the knife Drew had given her, and was looking at me. Her lovely face held no expression.
“Hey,” I said, the ache in my chest flowing outward to my arms and fingers. Or maybe the ropes were cutting off my circulation. “Are you going to cut me loose?”
I wished she’d say something.
I wished she’d come closer.
I wished she’d cut these ropes so I could touch her and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her. I loved her so fucking much, part of me thought maybe I wouldn’t be able to last another ten minutes without her in my arms. My heart would give out. I’d die. BAM. Kaput. The end.
She continued to watch me, like she was thinking about cutting me loose, but hadn’t yet made up her mind.
“Kat?”
“Are you really okay?” she asked, sounding worried.
“Honestly? Yes.” I rolled my eyes at myself, admitting, “And there were only four guys and a taser, no guns. Sorry I lied.”
The side of her mouth curved upward, but then flattened again.
She took a deep breath, walked to the table by the bed and placed the knife on it. As she did this, her expression grew cold. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”
I stared at her, then glanced at the knife, my lips parting in confusion. “Thank you . . .?”
“For paying the ransom.” Now she sounded pissed.
I flinched, her words landing like a slap.
Is she mad about having to pay the ransom?
Now we were wearing matching frowns. “You want me to thank you for paying the ransom?”
“You must feel grateful.”
I glared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. This was not the reunion I’d imagined.
“I wonder,” Kat tapped her chin theatrically, “how will I ever know whether your feelings for me are real, or because of gratitude?”
Gratitude? What the fuck is she—
…
…
…
Oh.
Gratitude.
Right.
I’m the asshole.
I closed my eyes, breathing out a rueful laugh. She was a smart one, this wife of mine.
“Well-played.”
She also laughed, but it sounded bitter. “That’s it?”
Her angry tone had me peeking thr
ough one eye.
“That’s all I get? Well-played?” She sounded slightly hysterical. “I thought you were going die. I thought,” she took a breath, like she had to, “I thought Caleb was going to have you killed. You said I could trust you.”
“You can trust me. Me being held for ransom doesn’t mean you can’t trust me.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about!” She spun away, throwing her hands in the air and then pulling them through her hair.
In the corner of my eye, I noticed that the volume of her voice caught Wally’s attention. He lifted his head, glancing between the two of us.
But then the sound of a choking sob coming from Kat meant that she had my full attention. I strained against the rope, needing to get to her, needing to pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her.
“Will you please cut me loose?”
She turned halfway, giving me her profile. “Maybe I should.”
It took me a second to realize she wasn’t talking about the ropes, and in the next second my stomach dropped, like someone had cut a hole in my abdomen. In fact, it felt like they were still cutting the hole, the pain was so bad.
“Don’t you say that.” I choked on the words, my throat clogged with emotion. I cleared it, and said firmly, “There’s no cutting me loose from you. We’re—we’re it.”
She glanced at me, hurt and accusation in her eyes. “I trusted you.”
“You can still trust me.”
“I can’t.” Her face crumpled and she shook her head. “Because you don’t trust me.”
“Of course I trust you. I trust you more than any—”
“You didn’t believe me when I told you that I loved you.”
That had my mouth snapping shut and us trading glares again, because she was right.
“You don’t trust that I love you because,” her expression cleared and I could see she was working to maintain her composure. When she spoke next, her voice had firmed. “Because you think—some part of you thinks—maybe, maybe I’m only with you because of gratitude.”
My chest rose and fell with a deep breath. What could I say? She was right. About everything.
So say that.
“You’re right.”
Kat continued to glare, saying nothing, like she expected me to continue.
“What can I say? You’re right. That’s what I thought. I was a dumbass. You’re right.”
“That’s what you thought. What does that mean?”
I tugged on the bindings holding my arms and growled, frustrated. She was so close. She was right fucking there. And I couldn’t touch her.
Kat’s eyes flickered to my straining arms. Maybe she could read my thoughts, or maybe she took pity on me. Whatever it was, she came back to the bed and sat next to me.
Horrible and wonderful barbs of heat burst outward as she approached, making it hard to breathe.
“Kat,” I said. “You gotta untie me. I need to touch you.”
Christ. I sound like a junkie.
But something about it, the words or my tone, had her eyes turning soft. “Dan, I love you. And I need you to believe me. I know you don’t feel the same, but—”
“Are you fucking kidding me with this? Of course I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She reared back, blinking like my words were a bucket of water to the face, or something was in her eyes. “Wh-what?”
“I’m in love with you. You’re my fucking—fucking sunshine. My goddamn everything. You’re the center of my whole fucking universe. I’d give up swearing for you, I swear. If you asked, I’d never say the word fuck ever again, that’s how much I love you. I love you more than fuck, so that’s a whole fuckavalot.”
During my tirade, Kat’s expression changed a few times. At first, she was shocked, and then confused, and then she laughed, and then her face crumpled again and she hid it behind her hands, her shoulders shaking.
I watched her, trying to figure out if she was happy or sad. “Kat?”
She shook her head.
“Are you crying? Or laughing?”
Her hands fell away and she lunged at me, saying, “Both,” just before her lips landed on mine.
As much as I could, as much as the restraints would allow, I chased her mouth, needing more of her. I was so hungry for the taste of her, I was starving. I’d been dying, wasting away, and everything about this woman fed every part of me.
Her hands were on my body, pulling my shirt up, her fingers on my stomach reminding me again that I couldn’t move. I winced as the rope dug into my wrists, rubbing the skin that was already raw.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She pulled back suddenly, jumping from the bed and picking up the knife. “I’m sorry. That must hurt.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry and, please, cut the rope.”
She gave me an apologetic smile and worked on cutting the first tight strand holding me down to the bed. “I think if I cut these two, you’ll be free of the bed. But I still need to get the ones holding your legs and arms together.”
Once the two main lines were cut, she carefully sliced through those that held my ankles together, her eyes on her work.
“I need a shower. I have Wally slobber all over my face and I stink,” I said, knowing it was true, but grimacing at my thoughtlessness.
Real nice, Dan. Real smooth. You just told the woman you love her, and then announce that you stink. Romantic of the year award.
I was about to apologize when she moved to straddle me, reaching for my wrists, and saying quietly, “Maybe I could join you.”
I blinked at her. “What?”
“In the shower. Maybe we could . . .” She swallowed, her neck and cheeks growing a fantastic shade of pink.
“Okay,” I said, nodding a lot.
Not going to lie, just the thought of Kat, me, shower, naked made me dizzy. It also made my dick hard, which was likely the reason for me being dizzy. Also likely, Kat felt this new development, seeing as how she was sitting on my lap and a small, knowing smile curved her mouth, the blush receding.
As soon as my wrists were free, she darted away to the bathroom, pulling her shirt off as she went and calling over her shoulder, “I’ll start the water.”
I scrambled to free myself from the last of the tangles and then stood, getting my bearings.
Once I found my balance, I yanked off my shoes and socks. Tugging off my shirt, tripping over my pants, I paused just outside the door.
Thumbs hooked in my boxers, I stared at the sight before me. All the air left my lungs and I didn’t dare blink.
She was naked.
In the glass shower.
And she was wet. Wet all over.
Her back to the spray, her chin tilted up, her eyes closed, her arms lifted, her hands in her hair.
At some point in my life, I must’ve done something really fucking awesome to deserve this moment.
Sliding off my last piece of clothing, I didn’t take my eyes from her as I shut the door on Wally and walked across the bathroom to the shower.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my dog, but I didn’t want to share her with anyone right now.
I opened the glass door, my mouth watering, and she opened her eyes. Kat half-blinked, her arms moving slowly to her sides as she looked at me. Then her stare moved to my neck, my chest, stomach, hips, lower.
I didn’t move, it was only fair. I’d taken my time, memorizing every detail, watching her. She deserved no less, if she wanted it.
“You’re beautiful,” she said on a breath, the sound almost lost to the noise of the shower.
“I’m yours,” I said, not knowing I was going to say it before it came out, and thinking immediately after how stupid I sounded.
I should have said she was beautiful. I should have said she was gorgeous, perfect, flawless, a fucking goddess, lust and desire personified.
Before I could, her eyes came back to mine and the look she was giving me . . . well, let’s just say, maybe I wasn’t so stupid aft
er all.
Oh, fuck it.
I reached for her. Her skin was hot and slippery beneath my hands. Perfect. We met under the water, her arms coming around my neck, her breasts slick against my chest, and I think I groaned into her mouth. Like the greedy bastard I was, I pressed her against the wall, and feasted on her stunning body. I bit her neck, her chest, shoulder, and my hands were just as insatiable, consuming and memorizing the softness of her hips, ass, thighs, the bend of her waist, the lush fullness of her exquisite tits.
That’s right.
Exquisite. Tits.
I wanted to smother myself, inhale her, suffocate on her skin. I couldn’t get enough. My heart thought I was running a sprint, and my dick—which had made itself right at home sliding and pressing against the wet hot of her bare stomach—thought we were about to fuck.
Sorry for all the dick status updates, but my wood was important to the action here, and I didn’t want to leave anything out. I wanted to commit to memory every single second.
We needed to slow down, I needed to slow down. But I wasn’t thinking with my brain.
I bent my forehead to hers, taking a breather, even as my fingers—moving with a mind of their own—found her tight nipple and gave a tug, the sound she made sent a gratifying, piercing heat down my spine.
Kat gasped, her fingers kneading my backside. Her mouth chased mine, coming to my neck when I held myself away. A hand slid up my back, around my side, fingertips against the ridges of my stomach, moving lower.
I caught her hand. “Wait.”
“Dan.” She pushed her breast into my other hand, moving in that lithe way. Rocking restlessly against me, like her body was searching for mine. “Touch me.”
One of my hands slid lower while the other held her wrist over her head, against the tile wall. I bent to take her breast in my mouth, groaning at the sweetness of it, of her. She widened her legs, her breath hitching, the nails of her free hand digging into the back of my head.
But I hesitated sealing the deal; not because I was uncertain, but because I was a greedy fuck and wanted to hear her beg.
“Dan.”
My name sounded urgent. She tilted her hips. I pressed the base of my palm against her lower stomach, my fingers teasing her opening without touching where she needed.
