by Carter Blake
“Finish your breakfast first, then you can freak out. Alright?”
He’s right. I can’t get anything done on an empty stomach.
I finish my glass of champagne, and Griff happily fills it up again. The pancakes are divine, each bite bursting with sweetness and fresh fruit. When my stomach can’t take any more, I slump back against the headboard.
“Why would anyone want to kidnap me?”
“Money, probably. Infamy? I don’t know, love, you’d have to ask them.”
He takes a sip of the coffee, and I take my own cup with two hands. I cradle it for warmth, for reassurance.
“But no one will find you here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Actually, I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“Well,” Griffin laughs into his coffee. “No one’s going to find you here.”
Griffin is so innately charming, yet disarming. His goddamn smile is infectious, and I can’t help myself as he grins at me, “Look, Kali, let’s get you in the bath.”
I sit up at his words, eager to get out of last night’s clothes. My eagerness must have shown in my face, because he then laughs at me again.
“When you’re clean, you can figure out what you wanna do next.”
Griffin smiles and carries the silver tray out of the room.
“After all, you can’t stay here forever!”
Chapter 5
Griffin
Finishing her last drop of champagne, Kalista sighs and gives me a satisfied yet confused look.
I set my coffee down and meet her gaze, preparing myself for a barrage of questions.
Waking up in a stranger’s apartment can be confusing. Especially if you’re not conscious during the transit.
But at least she’s being taken care of. And rather well at that.
I am a proper English gentleman after all.
“So, can I go the bathroom?” she asks with annoyance in her voice.
I plaster on my most charming smile, hoping to ease her irritation.
“What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I didn’t let you go to the bathroom?”
I wink at her.
She rolls her eyes and huffs. She looks pissed, but then so would I in her position.
“Is there some sort of problem, love?”
“Knight in shining armor? Really?”
She wiggles her bum and lifts her legs, showing me the bindings keeping her ankles together.
I nod, acknowledging the restraints. My eyes linger on her long, lean legs up in the air.
It’s a fine fucking view. One that I force myself to stop thinking about. But I can’t help thinking of those legs in many other places and in more compromising positions.
My pajama pants tighten, and I re-situate myself in the hopes that Kalista doesn’t get a view of my growing cock—which so eagerly wants attention from her.
“If I untie you, will you promise not to run and scream straight to your daddums and mum?” I ask, bending down and lifting her ankles.
When I touch her, my body heats up, and I feel a spark of energy pulsate through my body. Her skin is electrifying and dangerously irresistible.
This isn’t helping to sedate my cock.
Her eyes fill with desire, and her mouth curls into playful grin.
Apparently, she feels it, too.
“Yes, sir. I promise I won’t run. I have no idea where I am anyway. I just really need to go to the bathroom. Take a piss. Clean the filth off me. That sort of thing,” she says as she quickly regains her composure.
I laugh at her bluntness. It’s quite refreshing—and surprising—to hear that phrase come out of her mouth. Considering she’s an heiress, I had expected her to have a manicured way of saying ‘piss.’
I know for a fact you don’t learn ‘take a piss’ at boarding school.
I begin to unravel the intricate knot at her ankles.
I look up at her, and her eyes glare at my fingers, diligently watching as I loosen the binding.
“Liking the show, love?” I smirk, taunting her.
She clears her throat. “You’re quite good with your fingers. How’d you acquire that skill?”
“With many years of experience and keen interest.”
Once freed from the binding, my hands massage her ankles and the skin around it. She leans back and softly moans in relief I presume.
Now my cock is aching.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, not so much. More uncomfortable, if anything.”
I let her go and stand up, extending my hand to her.
“Come with me. I’ll show you everything you need to get freshened up.”
She eyes me up and down, assessing the situation—and me.
It effectively makes me feel like a piece of meat. I can’t say I’ve ever hated that feeling though.
Especially from a woman who looks as enticing as Kalista.
She gives in and places her hand in mine—standing breaths away from me—and to her surprise uses my hand for balance.
“There might be some lingering effects after being bound and gagged, love.”
She glares at me, pissed at my sarcastic remark.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
And again, I laugh. She is shameless.
She lets go of my hand once she finds her legs and follows me toward the bathroom.
“Here’s the washroom, love. It has everything you should need.”
I show her where everything is in the bathroom and explain to her that this apartment is mostly just a pied-a-terre. I much rather prefer my places in Marrakesh, Barcelona, Venice, or even my family estate in England.
Though, if I’m being honest, it does have its uses—clearly.
Being the watchful gentleman that I am, I run the water and test the temperature for her bath. I see in my peripheral view a very impatient Kalista with crossed arms and a foot tapping aggressively.
“You know, I can do that by myself, right? The least you can let me do is choose the temperature of my water.”
I grin, having realized she does make a good point.
“By all means, love. How dare I get between a woman and her bath?”
I step aside and wave my hands over the facet.
She sighs exasperatedly, though I hear a faint chuckle creep from her throat all the same.
As she fusses with the knobs, I walk over to the linen closet to gather bathing essentials.
“Fancy anything else before I leave you?”
“Do you have something for me to wear? Other than this?”
She stands up and eyes her outfit, tugging at the end of her dress, like she now realizes how short it is. I could see how wearing that tight-ass dress all night can get a bit uncomfortable.
I hold up a finger, trying to think of something appropriate for her, and head to my closet.
“This will do,” I smile mischievously as I hand her a red silk kimono.
She looks at me with an arched eyebrow and settles on a shrug. “This? Uh, I guess I can make this work.”
Looking at her holding the kimono brings flashbacks of last night in her silk pajamas, frolicking around in her hotel room. It has my cock wanting her attention—again.
I need to calm this greedy cock of mine and quickly. It’s going to get me in trouble.
But honestly, I can’t fucking wait to see how she wears nothing other than that silk.
“Enjoy yourself, love. I’ll be patiently waiting for your return.” I wink at her as I leave the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind me, I fall back against it in disbelief that the woman I hoped to steal the canary from is bathing in my apartment.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I pace the apartment, planning out how I’ll get her back to the hotel safely and hopefully without being noticed.
This isn’t something I do normally. Or ever actually. I’ve never rescued a woman before.
Given that I barely had time to
react back at the hotel, the last thing on my mind was what to do afterwards once we got here.
Sitting back at the table, I stir my coffee and think about the ways I can execute a smooth delivery.
I get distracted when I hear the water draining and movement in the bathroom.
I imagine her—and that brilliant body of hers—wet and hot from the bath. Lathering the soap on her tits, stomach, and—
Calm yourself, Griffin! The woman needs to go.
Opening the door, she stands in the door frame with the silk hugging her silhouette.
I stop stirring my coffee and gape at her—only for a moment.
She really knows how to enter a fucking room.
“Did the bath treat you well?” I ask, trying to refocus my attention on her well-being and not her smooth, wet, and heated body.
“Very. It felt amazing,” she says as she smooths her kimono down.
My gaze travels down her body as she walks toward me and sits in the chair across from me. I soak in her tight, delicate frame that the kimono does very little to hide—especially the fact that she’s cold.
I try to stop a smile from forming and distract myself by drinking the cold, dreadful coffee.
“So, my savior, what are your plans now?”
She looks around the apartment as if something in here will give her a clue.
“To return you safe and sound to your family, love. Hopefully as smooth and as uneventful as possible.”
“Sounds promising. You’ve gotten me out, I’m sure you can get me back in.”
I smile, reassuringly.
Hopefully that’s the case. Taking things is easy. Putting them back—not so much.
“So, what will that entail exactly? And when?”
Her patience looks to be quickly dwindling.
“Well, first I’ll have to go assess the hotel. But most importantly, that fine arse of yours will remain here, bound, as I do my preliminary check. Again—and I can’t stress this enough, love—this will be smooth and uneventful.”
“Is tying me up really necessary?”
She glares at me, obviously annoyed at the thought.
Ignoring her attitude, I find myself quite excited to tie her back up. My cock is eagerly anticipating it as well. And that’s not even my sort of thing.
“Yes, very. As your savior, I need to ensure the safe return of my damsel. And that requires tying you in this apartment, unable to run away and fuck up the plan,” I say while trying to stifle my rising desire and irritation.
It’s a heavy mix.
But I also say this to her, having no idea how it’ll be done. All I’m certain of is that I have to return her. She’s an heiress with a bullseye on her back, and having her here with me brings unwanted attention—and stress.
That’s one of the main reasons why I always work alone. I might have friends who I rely on for certain things, but for the most part, I do it on my own.
I don’t need anyone because frankly, I know I can do a better job without them. I’m the best at what I do.
Always have been and always will be.
Chapter 6
Griffin
How in the hell did I get myself into this mess?
One minute I’m a foot away from the precious Canary—on the brink of a huge payday—the next, I’m rescuing an heiress, saving her from a fucking kidnapper.
Again, what the fuck?
There’s no way in hell I would sign up to be a knight in shining armor willingly.
That isn’t what I do. I don’t rescue people.
I take things from people. And I take such things from people like Kalista. That was the plan anyway—take the Canary—not the fucking girl.
But if I have to be a savior, I’m happy it’s for Kalista—the delicious damsel that she is.
Her charming wit and brilliant body adds to the rather bleak apartment, even if it’s only going to be for a short while.
And now that she is in my keeping—for the time being anyway—I feel oddly responsible for what happens to her.
It’s quickly becoming my only concern to return her safe and sound with no feathers ruffled—at least visibly.
To keep my sanity, I need to devise a plan for how to get her back.
I need to know what I’m getting into. I need to make sure that I’m appropriately prepared—unlike the last time when I went off half-cocked.
With Kalista bounded and gagged back at my place—which is quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes—I head out to get some intel on the situation.
It’ll also help calm my rising desire for her. But mostly, it’ll help me to keep my hands to myself. I almost slipped when tying her hands behind her back earlier when it forced her tits to lift so deliciously.
The kimono had only added to my growing lust.
Honestly, I never knew I could be this strong-willed when it came to a woman. I’m horribly impressed. As I come up on the hotel, I dial Ritz’s number.
It’s not his real name—nor do I care to know his real name—but he came recommended from one of my colleagues. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have known anything about that ten-million dollar Canary ring—or Kalista.
I would love to blame all of this on him—it’s always easier to blame an outside source—but I can’t.
I was the one who made the choice to rescue Kalista and get involved when I didn’t have to. I made the decision—foolishly I might add—to take her back my place.
But the sooner I can figure out what’s going on in the hotel, the sooner I can return her without any hassle. And then I can peacefully go on with my life.
“Ritz,” he answers.
Hopefully, he’ll have the information I need.
“Ritz, it’s Gryphon. What’s going on at the hotel?”
“What do you mean? With the girl?”
“Yes, the girl. Kalista.”
“It’s a mad house. Everyone’s scrambling, trying to figure out what to do next. Her parents have called everyone to search for her.”
“Go on.”
“All they know now is that she’s gone, and she left all her stuff behind. They have local cops, some private investigators, and some guys in suits asking some weird questions. The local authorities have the place on lock down right now, so only guests can come and go right now.”
Fuck, this might be a tad more difficult than I had intended.
But for me to truly understand what’s going on, I’ll have to go myself. I trust Ritz—as much as someone in my profession can—but I trust myself more.
“So, they are treating this like a kidnapping then.”
“Kidnapping? Fuck, no. They think she ran away. Why would they think it was a kidnapping?”
Ritz sounds one part confused and one part curious. Obviously, I know something he doesn’t, and he wants to know.
Too bad for him, I’m not in the mood for sharing.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Alright. Well, I’ll keep my ears and eyes open all the same. And I’ll keep you updated.”
“I think I’ll stop by and assess the situation myself, Ritz.”
“Let me know when. I can give you a heads up and look out.”
“I’d appreciate that. I’ll probably be there sooner rather than later.”
“Just call me,” he says and hangs up.
Upon reaching the front of the hotel, I make sure to covertly disguise myself behind a few large pieces of shrubbery decorating the front lawn.
The authorities swarm the perfectly groomed grounds. Some stand in circles talking—occasionally writing something down on a clipboard to look busy—while others are stuffing their faces or joking around.
No one looks like they’re really trying to find Kalista—not if they’re here.
If they were serious about finding her, they’d all be out looking around the town.
But I can’t complain. Their lack of diligence will make it easier to get in and look over everything.
&n
bsp; And make it easier to return her.
Taking advantage of their incompetence, I survey the hotel and spot an open window on the third floor. There’s no one patrolling it, and it looks manageable to climb through.
I make my way through the yard and quickly hide behind the bushes. The exterior of the hotel is luckily brick, so just like rock-climbing, I assess the walls and scale the building.
I reach the third floor window seamlessly and without being noticed. Fortunately, there was no one in the room when I entered.
Having my career come to an end because I was caught by some scared woman with high-pitched screams would have been rather embarrassing.
I make my way through the emergency exits and head up to the floor of Kalista’s room. I take a peek from the door and witness a similar kind of commotion crowding the hallway as the outside, except the people here are all in casual attire with no symbols dictating their affiliation.
Something about this seems...unnerving.
But I refrain from thinking too much about it. It’s more than likely that they’re some private investigation firm her parents hired.
Ritz did mention that her parents had brought in some private people.
Ducking back into the stairwell, I call Ritz to let him know I’m here before I make my way to the lobby to greet him.
The once opulent and over-the-top extravagant lobby is now littered with authorities—all buzzing about Kalista.
Fuck, now this will make it harder to maneuver.
I find a spot at the bar, remaining as inconspicuous as possible and avoiding eye contact. I spot Ritz on the other side of the room—all five foot five of the blonde-haired man—and he nods to acknowledge me.
He side-eyes a group of men to the corner. They’re all in the same white fitted button-down shirts and blue jeans—like those outside of Kalista’s room. There are about four of them whispering to each other and looking oddly suspicious.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid.
I’m way out of my depth here.
Taking a sip of the Manhattan I ordered, I feel them out. All of them look the same—brown hair, brown eyes, with the same broad build.
It’s like they came from some Goons R’ Us store.
