Ed was sitting on the other side of the table, looking at me.
What. The ever-loving. Fuck?
“Too nice?” he asked.
Oh shit. I glanced down at the table, and blinked because on it sat the absolute last thing I’d expected to see.
He’d made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A glass jar of raspberry jelly sat next to a pretty china plate, a butter knife propped on the edge. He apparently liked creamy Jif.
“Would you like half?” he asked, catching me looking.
I shook my head, rendered utterly speechless.
He lifted the sandwich, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully as he stared at me.
I stared back, feeling like I’d just been kicked in the chest. Ed was those thugs’ ‘boss’? Nice, never-ask-for-anything-in-return, Mr. Fixit, sculpture-welding, object-of-my-wet-dreams, a.k.a. ‘The Beard’ Ed had me tied to a chair?
No, this couldn’t be right. I shook my head.
“You’ve been asking too many questions,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. “What are you and the guides up to?”
He leaned forward, the blue-green in his eyes catching the lamplight. “I need you to stop asking questions,” he said, his warm tenor now hard as steel. “If you do not,” he said, “there will be consequences.”
Obviously, I didn’t know this man at all. He was being tough and bossy… and I liked it. The way he said ‘consequences’ gave me a full-body shiver.
I tried to squelch my response, but it was no use. I twisted at the rope holding my hands, badly wanting to grab him.
In his house, I’d wondered if he’d let me kiss him because I wanted to, because he always said yes. But this Ed? This Ed would tell me if he didn’t want my mouth on his. In fact, this Ed looked like he might just spank me without provocation.
My chin lifted. “You can’t make me keep my mouth shut,” I said. He could, with duct tape, but I wouldn’t be telling him that.
He set down his sandwich, and with a screech of his chair legs, he was suddenly looming over me. His face was very close, and he looked so very dangerous. Forbidding.
“Wanna bet?” he asked.
I was suddenly very, very wet. I was staring at his mouth, and I couldn’t seem to stop. My nipples were hard as bullets, and I squirmed on my chair as arousal tore through my veins. I had no idea how or why this was happening—but it undeniably was.
I was tied up, I was being held captive, and I wanted Ed like he was the last man on Earth and I’d just eaten a bucket of oysters.
I tried to tell myself it was wrong. I shouldn’t want this man. He’d had me snatched. He was a liar. And he was threatening me.
But there was no denying I wanted him. I was helpless, and I wanted him more than ice cream, or a $100,000 nugget. More, even, than a good rumor.
“Fuck,” I said.
The word drew his gaze to my mouth. “Are you cussing because you’re capitulating?” he asked.
I shook my head. Damn, but I wanted him to take advantage of me. I wanted him to grab me by the hair, and kiss me senseless.
“Listen, Suzy. You’re a gossip.”
I nodded.
“And yes, you’ve got excellent instincts, and we’re up to something.”
I nodded again, getting excited. I wasn’t sure if it was because those full, sensual lips had drifted a couple millimeters closer, or if it was because he sounded like he was going to tell me his secret.
“But we’re not hurting anybody, and frankly, I can’t tell you what we’re doing, because Suzy—” he grasped my chin, making my breath catch “—you’re a gossip.”
My chest was heaving, but it wasn’t from fear. Not anymore. I didn’t know this Ed, but I did know he wouldn’t hurt me. No, I wanted this Ed’s mouth on mine so badly, I felt itchy, like a heroin addict gone too long without her fix.
He watched me lick my lips, and he muttered something vile under his breath. It was something so dirty, something so anti-Ed, that I practically lit on fire. I’d been hesitating over Ed because he was too nice. Well, as it turns out, apparently he wasn’t, and oh my god, I wanted him now.
I lunged toward him, making it a couple more inches before the table got in my way. His hand wound up cupping the side of my head, and his fingers slid into the mess of my hair. I was less than an inch from him, but it was an inch too far.
He shook his head slowly. “You’re not supposed to be trying to kiss your captor,” he chided.
“I don’t care,” I whispered back. “I want you. You’re making me so freaking hot with your tough guy act that I can’t see straight.”
His mouth stretched into a smile. “Really? Usually I make people piss themselves.”
“It would take something stiffer than a PB&J to get that reaction out of me,” I said.
His free hand cupped the other side of my head. He was looking at my lips. “Stiffer than a PB&J, you say? Hmm… I can’t imagine what might be stiffer than that,” he mused.
I sputtered a laugh, and was just about beside myself with both of his hands on me. They felt divine, big and warm against my skin, his fingers caressing the tender area below my ears.
“Kiss me, damn you,” I ordered.
His breath was against my lips, wafting across them, tickling me. His eyes filled my vision, that magnificent melding of blue and green and hypnotic brown. I fell into them, and waited impatiently for him to ravish me.
And then tell me his secrets.
“No,” he breathed against my lips. He straightened up and slid his hands away, leaving me all a-throb and tingly and a little upset.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” I demanded, remembering the way Annie had rushed out my door and taken the brothers right there on the lawn. This was supposed to be simple. Men were supposed to be simple. Not sneaky bastards who were all kind and handy one moment, and then the celibate bosses of fishing guide thugs that tied me up the next. “What do you need from me, an engraved invitation?” I asked in exasperation.
“I need you to agree to stop investigating,” he said.
I screwed up my mouth and gave him my best stubborn look. I wasn’t going to be dissuaded from figuring out what he was up to, no way.
He sighed. “I’ll take you home. If you come around asking questions again, I’ll have to make things unpleasant for you.”
“What are you gonna do, leave off the jelly next time? Maybe try some nipple clamps? I have some,” I pointed out. My Passion Party inventory also included floggers, and handcuffs, and—
He was stiffer than a PB&J, I noted as he stepped back from the table. He was making quite the tent in his pants, and I really, really wanted to see what he had in there. I wanted to touch him, stroke him. Put my mouth on him. Maybe if I told him that…
“Don’t tempt me,” he said as he rounded the table. He pulled me up out of my chair and nudged me to get me walking toward the door.
“How about I throw out some guesses as to what you’re up to, and you tell me yes or no,” I said. He opened the door for me, and I stepped through. He grasped my arm, turned me to the right, and started walking with me.
I didn’t wait for him to answer. “You’re running some sort of gigolo operation, pimping out the guides to the guests, and you’re their madam,” I guessed.
He pulled up short, and I went another step without him. “That’s a really good idea,” he said.
“Well, if you go with it, I want a percentage.”
He recaptured my upper arm and continued down the hall with me. He opened the next door, and we stepped outside.
There was still hardly anyone around. A fishing guide down at the boats gave Ed a respectful nod as we approached. He totally ignored the way my hands were tied behind my back.
“You’re growing pot, and the guides are your distributors,” I guessed again.
“Another excellent idea,” Ed said, “But no.”
“You’re operating an illegal poaching ring.”
“Nope.”
He picked me up and swung me into his boat, plopping me down on the bench. He went over to my boat, pulled out my float coat, and bundled me into it, zipping me up like an army-green sausage. My sleeves flopped empty at my sides.
“I’m not going to be able to swim with my hands tied,” I pointed out.
“I’ll rescue you,” he said. ‘Again’ hung in the air after his statement. He put on his own float coat.
“You know, it’s called kidnapping to take somebody against their will, tie them up, and threaten them. And actually, I think the threatening might be called assault. What’s to stop me from calling the police when you get me home?” I asked.
“You’re supposed to be doing and saying anything to make me let you go,” Ed pointed out as he set the anchor in the bottom of his boat. “Threatening to call the Troopers on me while I’ve still got you is counterproductive.” He pushed us off into the river.
“What about my boat?” I asked.
“I think I’ll keep it a couple days. Long enough for you to cool down and realize it would be wisest all the way around if you quit your sleuthing.” He stepped over my bench to the back and pull-started the outboard engine. Its two-stroke roar made conversation impossible as he angled us upstream.
I let my eyes speak for me, telling him in no uncertain terms that his future was about to get interesting.
He grinned at me.
The drive to my place took just a few minutes. He pulled in to the dock and tied us off, and then gestured for me. “C’mon.”
I shook my head. “I’m not moving until you tell me what you’re up to.”
“You know,” Ed said, “a sit-down strike would be a lot more impressive if you didn’t weigh like ninety pounds.”
I would have made a rude gesture, but my hands were tied. I stuck my tongue out at him instead.
“Don’t make me come in there after you,” he said, his eyes on my mouth.
“I don’t believe you have it in you to come for me,” I said. “In fact, I think you might be gay.”
He lunged for me. I shrieked and intentionally fell backward into the boat, wedging myself in the bottom. I used my feet to push my float coat-swaddled self away from him, then used them for leverage as he tugged at me.
Every time he started to lift me, I squirmed out of his grasp and wedged myself deeper into his boat. My legs were like wild things, kicking and pushing.
He lost his grip on me for about the fourth time. I laughed, exhilarated. I was eluding Ed with my hands tied behind my back. If I could do this, what wasn’t I capable of?
Then he straddled me, grabbed me by the hair, and he kissed me.
Oh… shit. I moaned under the onslaught of his lips. This wasn’t like the time over my sink, when I’d been the aggressor. No, this time he had a grip on my hair, and he held me still as his mouth slanted over mine. It was rough, and bossy, and so hot I melted like a popsicle in June.
In the slimy, grimy bottom of his boat, he held me down and kissed the hell out of me. I gasped air through my nose and finally let my eyes close as he gained access to my mouth. His grip on me tightened, and the way his tongue thrust against mine had my lower belly twisting into aching, needy knots. Hot moisture welled between my thighs.
I fell into his kiss. The rhythm of it, the hot slide, his taste. My arms were starting to hurt from lying on them, but I barely noticed. The muscles of my legs softened, and I melted completely.
Less than a second after my boot heels thumped to the deck, he adjusted his grip on me and hauled me up out of his boat. He threw me over his shoulder, and in two strides was up on my dock.
“Fucking hell,” I grumbled. “Fucking, fucking hell. It was a ruse.”
His hand landed on my ass and he squeezed. “Not entirely,” he said. He carried me easily, taking the steps up to my yard as effortlessly as if I were a sack of flour.
I decided to make it less than easy for him, and started to squirm and kick. “Let me go!” I yelled.
“In a minute,” he said, managing me.
It made me mad. “I hate you,” I grumbled against his firm back.
“I really don’t think that you do.”
I kicked some more, feeling irate. Ed was manhandling me. And I kinda liked it, but I was powerless to do anything about it, either to escape or to jump him. If I just had my damned hands free…
“Suzy,” he said, and then he swung me down off his shoulder, setting me on my feet at the base of my porch steps. I swayed with a head rush, but he steadied me, looking down into my eyes. The blue parts of his eyes were that vivid blue-green of an alpine lake, and they sucked me in and shut me up in an instant, drowning any protest I might have made.
“I know everything about you,” he said. His hand slid against my jaw again, his fingers threading into my hair.
“Bullshit.”
“I know you grew up and went to school in Palmer. I know your favorite ice cream is Moose Tracks, and that you sell sex toys, and that you’re a bossy, mouthy little shit.” The soft way he was gazing down at me belied the harshness of his words.
I stared up at him, completely confused. Had nice Ed decided to reappear?
“Promise you’ll quit asking questions,” he said in that warm, hypnotic voice.
Nope, thug-Ed was still in my yard. But oh, it was tempting. If he’d just continue to look at me like that, I’d do whatever he wanted.
I could look the other way. It was a strain on my personality, but I could grow and change as a person. I could do it.
I had opened my mouth to finally capitulate…
When Gary shot him.
Chapter Sixteen
Ed jerked, and he got a funny look on his face. His knees started to fold. When his shoulders had descended below my line of sight, I saw Gary standing about twenty feet behind him. With a gun.
Then Ed collapsed.
“No!” I fell to my knees next to him, feeling my throat closing up, and my chest tightening like it had at the end of Gone with the Wind. Could this really be it? Ed was going to be taken from me before I even got to know him?
I would have pressed my hands to his chest, but they were still tied behind my back. His eyes had closed, and he was lying so very still. There was no blood, but I was sure there was a hole blown into his back. He was probably bleeding out in my yard.
“Why did you shoot him?” I wailed as Gary approached.
“He was manhandling you,” he said.
“Nooo,” I moaned, tipping forward until my forehead pressed to Ed’s chest. His body was still warm. I started to sob.
“Calm down, Suzy, geez. Here, straighten up a minute.” Gary pulled on my shoulder, and then he heaved Ed over onto his side.
Before I could glance away, I saw it: A tuft of colorful feathers protruded from between Ed’s shoulder blades. A dart. Gary had shot him with a dart.
“Helly told me I need to stop killing people,” Gary said. He reached down and plucked the dart from Ed’s back. “But I really, really like shooting them. So,” he grinned into my teary eyes, “I got a dart gun.”
“We were just looking for my missing brothers,” Helly said, elbowing past him.
“So he’s going to be okay?” I whispered, finally realizing Ed’s chest was rising and falling with his breaths.
Helly caught sight of my face. “Dammit, Gary, way to scare a gal. You okay, Suzy? What did Ed do to you?”
“The guides tied me up,” I explained. “And then Ed made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” My tears were flowing freely now, and I quickly became a relieved, blubbering mess. He was alive!
“Whoa, wait. He made you a sandwich?” Helly got me zipped out of my coat and freed my wrists, then came around to hunker next to Gary. “Back up a bit. Explain.”
I explained how I went to the bar looking to interrogate the guides, and wound up tied up on a chair. And then Ed had made an appearance and tried to warn me off. I explained how they’d called him ‘boss’.
“If they’re calli
ng him ‘boss’,” Gary pointed out, “then he’s responsible for your having been tied up. And I don’t think we should let that slide, even if you do have a soft spot for him.”
My tears were starting to dry, and Gary was making a certain kind of sense. People didn’t respect you if you let them walk all over you. Ed had sorta walked all over me.
Ed was alive, and for the moment, he was unconscious. So, really… he was ours to toy with.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
Helly laughed and grasped Gary’s arm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked, looking delighted.
He grinned at her. “Absolutely. But you have to make the sammich.”
“No,” she said, shoving to her feet. “I’m not making him a sandwich. That’s dumb.”
Helly looked at me. “Suzy, do you have a sturdy chair?”
“Thank you guys so much, but you don’t have to stay.”
“So you don’t want even the teensiest bit of help torturing him?” Helly asked. “C’mooon. I’ve been wanting a piece of Ed for quite some time.”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. There will be no kneecap-smashing, no ‘pieces’. You guys go check out the bar. I’ve got this.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be torturing him,” Gary commented, guiding his soon-to-be fiancé toward the door.
“What the heck do you mean? Of course she’s going to torture him. Why the hell else would we have just tied him to a chair?” Helly tried to shrug off Gary’s hand, but he refused to be escaped.
He bent and whispered in her ear.
Helly gasped, and whipped around to look at me. In one second flat, her shocked expression morphed into a wicked smile. “You go, girl.” Then she skipped out the door.
Gary shouldered his dart gun, and gave me a ‘Whatcha gonna do?’ shrug. “We’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you,” he said.
I nodded.
Then Gary followed my bloodthirsty best friend out the door. “Hey, can I tie you to a chair?” I heard him call.
I eyed Ed. They said he’d be out for another hour, so…
It was time to prepare.
First, I took a shower, scrubbing and shaving everything. I moisturized with the nicest-smelling lotion I had, until my legs were as soft as a baby’s butt and smelled like violets. I finger-combed my hair and left it loose to curl down my back.
Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy Page 19
