by G. K. Lund
I let go of him and removed my jacket and top as I walked to the bedroom, dropping them on the floor, hearing his footsteps behind me. The room was cool, the floor for the most part covered by my bed. Only a small dresser in one corner. Before I reached the bed, I felt his hand close around my elbow, turning me around in one swift move. A hand on the back of my neck pulled me into a merciless and satisfying kiss; hard, deep, and still with the hint of the tea we had shared. My bra was unhooked without my paying attention until I felt his hand cupping one of my breasts, the gentle touch making me moan weakly, pleased he’d caught on to my sensitivities last time. It distracted me a while and I was surprised to feel the bed against my legs as he’d moved us closer. That wouldn’t do, I thought, maneuvering between clothes falling to the floor, so he had his back to the bed. He looked amused at this, going along for a little while. I held back the smile waiting on my lips.
He lay back on the bed, pulling me with him. It was easy after that. Pinning his arms over his head, his continued amusement at this as I could obviously not keep him like that by shear strength. I could see by the look in his eyes what he wanted to do to me, and I could feel my own treacherous body reacting to the mere thought. If I didn’t act now, I wouldn’t be able to.
In a quick motion, I grabbed the handcuffs I’d stolen from him in the living room. I had managed to keep them out of his sight all the way toward the bed. Not an easy feat, but manageable on account of his attention being directed elsewhere. The first one was easy, locking around his right wrist. His kisses were at this point focused on my clavicle area, moving downward, a sharp intake of breath the first sign he knew something was up. The muscles in his body tensed under me and the kisses stopped, leaving me momentarily disappointed despite what I was doing. But he was too late. The second cuff clicked as it fastened around his left wrist, effectively locking him to the curved and arching metal spindles of my bed’s headboard.
“What the hell?” he blurted, instinctively pulling at the handcuffs trying to get free, his brain not caring that he knew very well that he was trapped. When this realization dawned on him, he shook violently at them, a growling sound escaping him. He, himself, though, did not escape. I sat back on my knees then, right next to him. He forcibly got himself under control, but his breathing had intensified. He looked angry—that wasn’t new, though—but there was also something else. I could see the worry in him.
What was I going to do with this?
There were a number of things I could do, of course, including discrediting him or simply leaving him there like that, and he knew it. I could see for certain now that even though he didn’t hate me wholeheartedly anymore, he certainly didn’t trust me. Not really.
I watched his now tense body, muscles taut under his skin, his arms still pulling at the handcuffs despite the futility. God, he was attractive. Absolutely gorgeous. A surge went through me as I realized I was, in addition to all kinds of feelings, also feeling a little power-hungry at the moment. I wouldn’t do any of the things he now feared. Let’s face it. I may not be the nicest of people, but petty and cruel I am not.
“Damn it, Evans,” he barked at me. “Unlock them.”
I smiled then. “No,” I said softly.
“No? God damn it. Get the key and unlock the cuffs.”
I tuned him out and put my hand on his stomach, feeling him twitch at the touch like he was trying to pull back. I looked into his eyes then, trying to hide the mix of lust and mischief I felt. I probably failed spectacularly by the uneasy look that now blended with his fury. He liked being in control, didn’t he? Well, he wasn’t the only one. All that anger, I thought. We had to do something about that.
Chapter 11
“This is torture,” he claimed, though the noises that escaped him told me otherwise. I looked up at him, stopped what I was doing to a muffled protest, and started kissing my way along his stomach and chest. Very slowly, like I’d been doing a while now. My hands gliding along his long lean frame, touching him any way I liked.
“It’s not torture,” I said between kisses. “I think torment suits the situation, though.”
“Like that’s better,” he said as I moved on to his neck. I let my mouth hover near his lips a moment, knowing he wanted to kiss me, not giving him that. I ran my fingers through his already tousled hair, slowly, seeing his half-closed eyes in reaction. All despite himself. I straightened up at that, careful not to give him too much now. I could almost feel his eyes boring into my body as I loomed over him, actually reveling a little in the feeling it gave me. I hadn’t started to bruise from the fight on the ridge yet, but I still had the grazes from the bullets that had nicked me a few days ago. Still, he looked ready to devour me if I let him out of the cuffs. It was enough to give any woman a confidence boost.
“For God’s sake, Evans,” he managed to croak out. “You’re killing me.”
I smiled broadly then and moved to lay down beside him, my head resting on his chest. “There are worse ways to go,” I pointed out.
“For crying out loud, woman,” he said with absolute agony in his voice while pressing the back of his head into the mattress. His speech was becoming more strained. “…turn blue.”
I couldn’t help a soft laugh at that, letting my hand glide down toward his erection. He was hard, having been driven to the brink a couple of times already, though I hadn’t let him cross. Nor did I now. I made sure to let my fingers stroke him lightly while passing, hearing him draw breath deeply. He made a half-choked sound then, as I moved further down, cupping him, caressing him gently.
“How long are you going to do this?” He managed to get the words out despite having problems forming a coherent sentence.
“Oh, I can keep this up indefinitely,” I said. Which was a complete lie. The drawback of this thing was that I wasn’t impervious to it all myself. The throbbing organ next to my busy hand wasn’t the only throbbing happening in the room. I wanted him badly.
“Get…key…” he uttered.
I let go of him then, watching his eyes open in the brief respite. I positioned myself over him again, straddling him once more, bending down so my breasts rested on his chest, the warmth and tingling sensation at the touch making me sigh in content. His body was almost still under me. The sense of control in him surprising me, considering.
“What?” I asked as if I hadn’t heard him.
“Unlock. Cuffs,” he said, his words muffled by my sudden kisses. He responded automatically, his lips soft, tongue searching mine.
“Sure that’s what you want me to do?” I said as I came up for air.
He croaked out an affirmation. I moved forward a little, touching his right arm. His muscles were strained under my hand, skin pleasantly warm. I slid my hand up, past his elbow, resting it on his wrist, feeling his pulse. Such a rapid beat, as treacherous in its revelations as his body was at this point. I kissed the little prodding spot, continuing with the palm of his hand, likely the most relaxed part of him.
“I can get the key,” I agreed, “or…” I moved my lips up a little, taking two fingers into my mouth, sucking a moment, tongue swirling before I let go, and moved back.
I saw actual desperation in his eyes now his options had been made clear. He wasn’t exactly desperate to leave the bed. The point had not been lost on him. “Come now,” I whispered softly in his ear. “We both know you could have kicked me out of this bed if you really wanted to.” I looked pointedly at him, saw realization dawn on his face. His hands might be stuck, but not the rest of him.
He sighed and looked up at me. “Okay,” he said softly. “You’ve made your point.”
I smiled then, in relief. For once seeing him not react to my smile with disdain.
“All you had to do was ask,” I said, equally softly, and moved back along his body. I noted the surprise in his eyes but didn’t pester him about it. Not with a word, nor with a look. Instead, I took hold of him, and finally, took him into me. The sensation of pleasure and fulfillment w
elled through me as I moved down his shaft, his hips instantly pushing against me. The sight of the relief on his face filled me with joy, and I pulled back, ready to ride us both to the crossing this time.
I lay on top of him, ear against his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat. We remained like that a while, both exhausted from the prolonged “torture” as he’d called it. His breathing was becoming steadier as well, a soothing sound, which I could feel against my hair. I must have fallen asleep, though it didn’t feel like it. One moment I was simply lying still, and the next not so much. Like when you nod off and your neck jerking tells you it has happened.
I was moving forward on top of him, as he’d drawn his knees up a little while pulling himself up into a seated position by the headboard. He made a grimace at this effort and sighed as he sat back, his arms fastened to his right now.
“You fell asleep,” he said. He seemed calm, but then, he always did.
We were at eye level now and I rested my hands on his shoulders and shrugged. “It’s hard work to keep you from…uh…manhandling me.” I smiled at the thought and instantly felt a pang of want, my hips moving a little without my say-so. That’s when I noticed his returned readiness. I arched a questioning eyebrow at him.
“Why do you think I woke you?” he teased, leaning in, his mouth finding my neck.
“We have a meeting remember?” I said, making him freeze.
“What?”
“A meeting. To help us find the attacker.”
“Now? You want to go now? Are you serious?” There was incredulity in his voice as well as his eyes. This close, and with the daylight coming in from the window, I could see his light blue eyes had gray flecks. I made a mock move to get off him, the clink of the handcuffs making themselves known as he tried to get hold of me. “Oh, come on,” he exclaimed with a look of pure malice toward them.
I laughed with delight then. I couldn’t quite help tormenting him, it seemed, but not now. I eased back to my former position, grabbing the headboard with one hand, feeling his breath on my neck as this time, I did not torment either one of us. The only sound in the room besides us was the metallic clink of the handcuffs every time his hands extended toward me, but couldn’t reach.
“We really do have that meeting, though,” I said afterward while breathing against his shoulder, my forehead pressed against the headboard as I’d caught my breath. I straightened up, ready to leave the bed, when on a whim, I kissed him, tentatively, this slow and gentle slide with his answering lips. Tender and gentle. Not like the intense kisses we’d shared so far. I couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes when I pulled back, and I didn’t stay to figure it out.
“Where’re you going?” he asked as I headed for the door.
“Shower.”
“Cuffs?”
“Yeah?”
“Hey!”
I smiled as I headed for the bathroom, not hearing whatever else he shouted.
I took a quick shower and found some clean clothes. I was tired, not only from the morning's activities, but from not sleeping all night. As I came back to the living room, I stopped as I noticed the plates and cups from the meal he’d made.
“Evans, key.”
I looked toward the open bedroom door, and nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me.
“Yeah,” I said, grabbing the plates and cups, moving them to the sink. No point in placing them in the dishwasher as it was full of clean crockery from the last time I’d been home.
“This isn’t funny,” he shouted.
“Key, key, key,” I mumbled and grabbed his jacket. I hadn’t thought about the key when snatching the cuffs, and my hands fumbled through the pockets, a surge of relief hitting me as I found it.
I went back to the bedroom, where he still sat on the bed. No choice there, really. I stopped a moment, taking him in. He looked strong and vulnerable at the same time, naked and trapped, yet energetic and forceful. Oh dear, I thought at the sight, I’m starting to feel all kinds of things for him. That could not be good, especially since he didn’t think like that. He was actually looking at me with worry in his eyes, brows slightly creased.
“Why are you just standing there?”
Confusion hit me a moment before I remembered the key in my hand. “Oh yeah, this,” I said.
“Yeah, come on then.”
I nodded, took a step forward, and then stopped myself. “So, Annalise…she’s not the easiest of people.”
“Fine,” he said. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go.”
He’d noticed I was ready to leave, I could see he was tense, not trusting me. I wanted him to, but I couldn’t blame him. “Yeah…” I said letting the word hang there.
“Don’t you dare leave me here,” he warned, his eyes widening at the thought.
“Of course not,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’d never do that.” I stepped forward, and quickly placed the key in his hand before turning and leaving the room. I heard him calling for me to wait, but grabbed my purse, scribbled something on a note, and headed for the front door before he could free himself and catch up.
Chapter 12
“You’re late,” Annalise said as she opened the door, looking sharp in a red leather jacket I would have killed for. She must have slept well that night, and when that happened, both her mood and her health were better.
“Sorry,” I said and didn’t mention that we hadn’t actually set a time for our meeting. I had texted her as we left Gerard’s, knowing she always kept her phone in silent mode during the nights. That way she would see the text when she woke up.
“Well, don’t stand there like a garden gnome. Come in,” she said and stepped aside for me to walk in through the door.
“I talked to Gerard earlier,” she said as she closed the door and told me to sit. We were in her small den, the first room one entered in her house. Deep green-colored soft chairs surrounded a dark coffee table, and the walls were covered with shelves in the same color, filled with books. She had been a college professor in Ashdale before her illness had made her decide to retire to make the most of the time she had left. She wanted to spend it on the Community.
I sat down in the chair she guided me to, my back to the door. I didn’t like that. I nodded as she asked if I wanted coffee. I noticed she seemed very sprig indeed today. No tremors to be seen.
“So,” she called out from the kitchen. “Where is the police detective who knows too much about us?” Clearly, she didn’t agree wholeheartedly with Gerard’s approach in dealing with him.
“He’s around somewhere,” I said, guessing he was on his way. With him not having a phone he could use at this point, I had left him Annalise’s address. I needed to talk to her about something without him there. He was likely pissed, though. I would be.
Annalise came back with a large mug of coffee for me, the familiar smell relaxing me. Quick as she’d been she must have made it before I showed up.
“I understand you have questions for me,” she said and sat down on the table, facing me. I nodded as I sipped the hot coffee, dark roasted, strong and energizing.
“The new identity,” I said, surprising her a little. She hadn’t expected that. Not from what she’d learned from her phone call with Gerard at least. She straightened her back a little, eyebrows slightly creased.
“What about it?”
“Is it done?”
“Not quite.”
I knew it took some time, and Eddie was thorough in his work. Very good at it.
“Where will I be going this time?” Things had been happening at an alarming speed the last few days, but my talk with Tegan yesterday had left me with a bad feeling. I had taken the news with a silent resignation when Annalise and Gerard had told me a couple of nights ago, but I didn’t feel like that now. I’d been through this before. Leaving friends behind. Friends who now could only guess whether I was alive or not, because I couldn’t contact them.
Annalise pressed her lips together a moment, considering my questi
on. “As I understand it…this will be the third time in your life you’ll have to relocate.” She looked at me for confirmation she didn’t need and then went on. “Last time, because the FBI started hassling you. Wanting to use you.”
It was the same thing now, only a different agent. How had they found me? I gulped down some more coffee, not caring that it almost scalded me.
“You can do this, Maggie,” Annalise said and patted my knee. “You’ve done it before. You moved across the country last time.”
“That’s not the issue, though,” I said. “I’m tired of leaving friends behind. What am I supposed to do about Rob? Tegan? You?”
She smiled a little, her eyes softening. “They will be fine. I will be fine.”
“But you won’t be fine, will you?” I said. It wasn’t to be cruel, and she knew that. Her nervous system would continue to break down. There was nothing to be done about that.
“My health will decline whether you are here or not, Maggie. Do you think you getting caught by either Yorov or this agent will help me?”
“No, but that’s not the point. I am so tired of them, in a sense, running my life.”
She nodded and then sighed. “I get that. You are, of course, free to do as you wish. To go where you choose.”
I’d only come to Ashport five years ago because the last judge I’d worked for knew Gerard. It had made it easier to settle here, continuing working as a mender. It usually took years to establish yourself as someone people could trust.
“I’ve never met or heard of anyone else with the same ability as yours,” Annalise continued. “I suspect that is because people like you are either taken and controlled…or simply killed.”
