Come and Get Me

by Reese Gabriel

  “If they really want me happy,” she replied out of the side of her grinning mouth, “they would take up a collection and have you dropped into some hole in the Siberian ice with the rest of your Neanderthal friends.”

  “Neanderthals lived in Western Europe,” he corrected.

  “Oh, thank you.” She returned a hug, taking the opportunity to “accidentally” grind her heel into the top of Ross’ shoe.

  She gave him credit for withholding any bloodcurdling screams. He did, however, get even by pinching her, rather dramatically, on the ass. Now it was her turn to maintain her composure. Fortunately, there’d been no witnesses.

  “Be careful,” he whispered in her ear, pretending to offer a kiss. “You are going to be under my spousal discipline very soon.”

  “The hell I will, you son of a—”

  Ross turned her for a full-frontal kiss. It was a sneak attack—a dirty move if ever there was one. The fact that her body gentled right down in response, one leg kicking out backward like one of those docile little 1940s film stars, meant nothing.

  Neither did the quickening of her heartbeat nor the way her eyes slid shut—trusting, and content.

  “It’s love, all right,” said Lyle. “They are made for each other.”

  What the hell would you know, she thought glumly. The man had been married since the Stone Age. What could he possibly remember of the sparks of passion or romance, or the inevitable cooling off that follows?

  She had seen what divorce had done to friends—couples who had once been in love. She knew what it was all about. She’d learned in college, with Ross, what a young woman’s reward was for believing in something.

  And here was Ross—the poster boy for superficial relationships—standing up here passing himself off as husband material.

  “I can’t believe you managed to keep it a secret,” said Sheila Wayne, the self-appointed queen of gossip from accounts receivable.

  “Congratulations, Ross,” came a sweet, demure little voice.

  Eleesha frowned. It was Kelly, giving Ross a peck on the cheek. Was she also trying to whisper something in his ear?

  Eleesha tugged hard on the arm of her self-appointed fiancé. “If you’ll excuse us, everybody, we need to have a little talk. Alone.”

  “Sure, we know how it is,” Lyle said. “Come on everybody, back to work.”

  Sounding like a cackling wedding party, Lyle and Martha shepherded the small throng back into the corridor.

  Eleesha promptly motioned Ross into her office. “We are not to be disturbed,” she ordered Martha as she closed the door brusquely.

  Ross was grinning at her, looking like the cat that had just dined on the canary. “I don’t know what you’re so happy for, you are about to be slapped by a half-dozen harassment injunctions. I may hire a hit man, too. I haven’t decided.”

  “You were jealous.” He leaned back against her desk. “Admit it.”

  “Jealous? Of who?”

  “Of Kelly. I caught that look you gave her when you thought she was trying to come on to me.”

  Eleesha flipped back her curls. “May I tell you, Ross Maclean, that you are without a doubt the most vain, deluded and arrogant man I have ever met? Do you think I care about your pathetic sex life?”

  “You seemed pretty interested a while ago,” he reminded her of the grievance form.

  “I was trying to protect Kelly, that’s all.”

  “And that’s why you dragged me in here just now?”

  “No, you impossible man, I brought you in here so I could tell you exactly how furious I am that you just told the whole office I was going to marry you.”

  “Well, you are, so why shouldn’t I spread the news?”

  “For starters,” she snapped, “there’s the small matter of my consent. Or do you plan to knock me over the head with a club and drag me to your cave, Neanderthal that you are?”

  He appeared to consider. “It’s an interesting thought. But actually you did consent—back in my office, by making love to me again.”

  She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Ross, that was sex. It happens between men and women.”

  He smiled ironically. “I know, it doesn’t mean anything. We’ve been telling each other that all along…and I think we’ve both been lying.”

  For a split second, she nearly opened, nearly responded to what looked like sincerity on his face—genuine pain. Then she remembered to whom she was speaking.

  “Speak for yourself. I just want you out of here—out of this office, and out of my life.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let you run away from this, anymore than I will run away from it. You will be flying with me to the Caribbean this evening. You will be wined, dined and mercilessly seduced. And then we will marry. By the end of this weekend.”

  “Not unless you intend to tie and gag me,” she defied, attempting to contain the turgid sea of emotions she now felt.

  Ross grinned again, clearly enjoying her reaction. Damn it, she’d forgotten who she was dealing with here.

  “A bondage wedding,” he mused. “Now that’s an interesting thought. Except I’d have to let you talk long enough to say your vows.”

  Eleesha felt a stab of warmth in her belly as she thought of Ross taking possession of her like that. It was a strangely erotic idea, having him want her this much.

  “I won’t be kidnapped,” she made clear. “You’re a fool if you think you can get away with that.”

  “There will be no force,” he concurred. “I intend to use your own body against you.”

  Her knees weakened slightly at the implications. “What are you going to do?” She attempted to keep it humorous. “Make a voodoo doll of me?”

  “You’re already my doll, sweetheart. I wish I’d been able to say that a long time ago. That morning I ran, I was just scared, Eleesha. I’d never had any real feelings in my life. I’d never known what it was to love. All I’d had was football, and all the glory and pain that comes with it.”

  “If you’re trying to sway me with sugary words, Ross—”

  “Come here, Eleesha,” he interrupted.

  There was authority in his voice, nothing forceful or strident, just this deep sense that he had the right to command her because he really did know what was best.

  “No, Ross,” she shook her head. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “It’s the best idea in the world, now come to me.”

  Oh, god, how she wanted to be in those strong arms right now. And yes, the bastard was right, she had been ready to tear Kelly’s eyes out for even coming near Ross. “Tell me first, what you’re going to do.”

  “Eleesha,” he said crisply. “Do you want to be spanked for disobedience?”

  She sort of did, but she went to him anyway. “I don’t have to do what you say,” she told him, just on principle.

  “Lift your skirt above your waist with both hands and hold it there,” he instructed.

  She rolled her eyes, like it was nothing. Secretly she was already moistening in anticipation of his attention, his loving domination.

  “You asked how I would get you to the altar,” Ross said, leaning in to take her lips. “The answer is sex.”

  Eleesha lost her mind in two seconds flat. Each kiss was more mind-blowing than the last. Not to mention more potent and more devastating. This time he fenced with her tongue, forcing a quick yield as he took away her very breath. She could think of nothing but him. Of being made love to by him. Of having her body played with and teased and brought over the top of that golden mountain of orgasm that only he could take her to.

  Ross released her, panting, totally enslaved to the moment. She moaned, begged for more. Reaching for him, however, she was gently but firmly denied, his hand circling her wrist before she reached his zipper.

  “I’m going to keep you continuously aroused, Eleesha. That will be my power. You will obey me with the desperation of the lowest slave, all the way to the altar
.”

  Her eyes widened as the full depth of his deviance sunk in. Would he dare? Yes, his expression told her, he would.

  “But that’s…that’s monstrous.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” he said grimly. “I make no apologies. You will be my wife, Eleesha Greene, in spite of your stubbornness.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” she said, though her voice reflected awe as much as anything. Never in her wildest dreams had she heard of a man going this far to win his love. But did he really love her? Or was she just some prize—the one thing in his life that had eluded his grasp?

  “Why not?” He pushed her hands back down her thighs. “Did I tell you to let go of your skirt?”

  “No,” she spoke in a small voice, lifting the hem back up. She felt numb…and terribly aroused.

  Ross knelt on one knee and pulled down her panties. “You are one obstinate woman,” he told her. “Then again, I am one obstinate man. Lift your left foot…now the right.”

  She stepped out of the panties. He stood up and put them on her desk. “Bend over,” he commanded. “Grab your ankles.”

  “I will not,” she said defiantly.

  He whirled her about, quick as lightning and administered a firm smack to her posterior. It was hard enough to make her squeal.

  “Bend over,” he repeated. “And grab your ankles.”

  This time she complied, though with a heavy, exaggerated sob. “When the judge asks me to say I do,” she vowed. “I am going to tell him—”

  Ross punished her naked ass with a crisp swat, having flipped up her skirt. “Tell him what?”

  She fell into brooding silence. A total of five times he made contact with her smooth, round ass. Eleesha hated that the feel of his skillful, athlete’s hands turned her on so much. She hated that his strength, and the heat he created in her, made her want sex at any cost.

  “Ross…fuck me?”

  His finger found her opening, caressed her labia, but kept well away from the kind of penetration she needed. “I told you, Eleesha, you will be kept wanting. I’m taking no chances on you psyching yourself out of this.”

  “Oh…god,” she groaned. “What a motherfucker you are.”

  The expletive earned her another smack, a powerful explosion of liquid fire that radiated throughout her whole body.

  “Watch your language, Eleesha.”

  “Ow,” she whined. “You’re going to kill me. I need to go to the hospital.”

  He pulled her upright, smoothing her skirt over her throbbing posterior. “Stop being so childish,” he chided. “Get your purse, and whatever else you brought with you. It’s time to go to the airport.”

  Eleesha sniffled, finding her small bag. She followed as he walked out the door, feeling far too much like a pet in training for comfort. Talk about a devious plan. Already she was so consumed with need that she could not bear to be away from his side. There was nothing he could tell her, she feared, that she wouldn’t do.

  Would she be able to regain her senses before the unthinkable happened—before she found herself forever cursed with the identity of Mrs. Eleesha Maclean?

  “How are we doing for wetness?” He leaned across to her in the elevator.

  “Fine,” she replied, as businesslike and curt as possible.

  “Let’s find out.” Ross pinned her against the wall. Taking both her hands in his, securing them above her head, he performed an impromptu inspection, his hand sliding up her thigh, like a branding iron on its way to her sex.

  “Oh…Ross.” She writhed, pushing herself toward him as much as her confinement would allow. Her lips begged a kiss, hot and dry. He allowed her a small peck, just enough to make her that much more thirsty.

  “I…I…need…to…” She shivered with heat, on the brink of coming.

  His hand stopped her just short. “First floor,” he announced.

  The doors dinged open. She sought desperately to compose herself. He was walking ninety miles an hour with those long, loping strides of his. She had to jog to keep up.

  “Ross, wait.”

  He stopped in front of his motorcycle. “Ever ridden one of these?”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s not very hard. Just hold on tight.”

  She tried to picture herself, legs astride that powerful machine, no underwear, her chest against the sexiest, most aggravating man she’d ever known in her life, forced to cling to him for dear life.

  “I won’t, Ross. Please. Anyway, I have my car.”

  “We’re going straight to the airport, we don’t need it.”

  “But…but, I’ll need clothes.”

  “We’ll buy everything there. Must you have an argument for everything, woman?”

  “Excuse me for not being instantly on board for your demented little fantasy flight,” she spat sarcastically. “I guess that makes me a lesser—”

  He picked her up off the ground before she could say “person”. Hoisting her by the waist, he set her on the bike. She cried out as the leather made contact with her pussy.

  “Omigod, that’s cold.”

  “You’ll warm it up.” He winked.

  “Pig!” she shot back as he pushed a helmet onto her head.

  Ross smiled contentedly as he busied himself with the chinstrap. It was his bloody self-satisfaction that ticked her off the most.

  “You haven’t won anything,” she told him. “I haven’t even started fighting yet.”

  “Good, I’m counting on it.”

  Ross swung his leg over the seat. Even in a suit he looked cool as hell on a bike. The machine fit him well. He had it under control, he was finessing it, all that power between his legs, at his beck and call. Was she all that different from the motorcycle? she wondered sardonically.

  “Why don’t you have to wear a helmet?” she asked.

  “They aren’t required by law.”

  “So I won’t wear one either.”

  “You will, actually. It’s for your own protection.”

  The gesture touched her a little but she made darned sure he didn’t know that.

  “Good idea, that way when I jump off, I won’t crack my skull.”

  “You won’t have much time to think about jumping.” He turned the key and footed the throttle. “You’ll need to be holding on to me. Very tightly. And you’ll need to lean on the turns.”

  She envisioned the prospects of that much connection to his body. She’d never keep her wits about her.

  “In your dreams, football man!”

  The bike took off and Eleesha screamed, barely managing to wrap her arms about Ross’ chest. She hadn’t been on the bike ten seconds and already she hated it.

  “Stop!” she screamed. “It’s too fast.”

  “We’re only going twenty miles an hour,” he called back.

  She burrowed against his back. That was twenty miles an hour too much as far as she was concerned. When they hit the expressway she was sure she would fly off and be blown clear to Canada. It was the most terrifying thing she’d done since riding the tilt-a-way with Jimmy Joe Collins in the twelfth grade. Except Jimmy Joe didn’t have this kind of a body to hold onto.

  Once she found her stride, convinced he really wouldn’t drive them over an embankment, she began to pay attention to other things going on in her body. Like the throbbing between her legs. The vibrations of the bike were managing to impact directly on her pussy like a two-ton vibrator with an internal combustion engine. It was sexy being out here, for damned sure. Guys were looking at her, from cars and other bikes. They wanted her and they were jealous of Ross. She held him even closer, preferring his protection to that of any stranger.

  Ross would fight for her, too. She could see that now. He was a man on a mission. A little out of hand, granted, and totally impractical and doomed to failure, but he was sure getting into this in a big way.

  Could anyone out there around them figure out what was going on? Did they know she was on her way to being a
genuine kidnapped bride?

  Did they know she was about to come, her breasts pushed hard against the Ross’ back, her thighs clutching the motorbike with feverish intensity. She closed her eyes, letting the sensations wash over her.

  An open-air orgasm, a solo flight, her clit engorged and sating itself against the ribbed, leather seat, which was indeed hot now, just as Ross had predicted. It was also wet, slick from the fluids seeping out of her needy opening. Clenching her teeth, digging her nails into Ross, trying to breathe him in, she let herself plunge into the abyss.

  A sexy, exposed and dangerous climax. Gasoline and raw power. She could almost smell the leather of the jacket he’d been wearing that very first day. Every time she’d seen this motorcycle, she’d imagined herself across it, naked, being used by this man. Helpless, loved and…wanted.

  Her shudders rose to a crescendo, teeth grinding, body undulating. Did Ross know what she was doing? Would he approve of it or think it a violation of his little game of sexual control? I might be on my way to another spanking, she thought.

  The idea heated her up, pushing her to a second climax, a longer, rippling one. Toes curling in her shoes, pussy clenching and unclenching as though possessed by his cock. He wants to marry me, she told herself. He wants to make this legal, exclusive and permanent.

  If I were smart, I’d jump.

  Eleesha was still tingling as they reached the airport. The aftershocks, fading to sweet echoes, gave way to a whole new range of sensations. Anticipation. A total helplessness in the face of the unknown. This man had her now, literally. As he parked the machine, turning off the ignition, she knew it had only begun. The real ride he was taking her on, the breakneck roller coaster, lay ahead. First would come the airplane ride, and then a complete saturation of island color and beauty… The Caribbean, where he’d promised her single life would end and her married life would begin.

  Chapter Seven

  Eleesha was curled up on the seat beside him, sound asleep. Her small, dainty feet were tucked up underneath her, her shoes safely stowed in the little net-covered rack in the seat in front of her. Her sweet breathing put him in a mellow mood. He was more than a little moved that her head had found its way to his shoulder for support. Falling asleep, she’d originally leaned away from him against the window, still displaying her vehement protest against the entire venture.