by Gemma James
“Where’re you at?”
“Just got to the safe house about an hour ago.”
His fast exhale whooshed out over the line. “So you’re still off the grid.”
“For now. I decided to take a detour before heading home.”
“Good. Stay put, okay?”
Narrowing my eyes, I slammed the back of the Jeep shut. The camping gear could wait until morning. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when I get there.”
“Explain now.”
He hesitated, and I was about to ream his ass, but his words iced my veins instead. “It’s about Alex’s old man.”
“What’s going on, Jax?”
“Just sit tight until we get there tomorrow, okay?”
“Hold up a second. We?”
Three beeps ended the call. The fucker hung up on me in typical Jax style, and I cursed him for putting this place at risk by bringing company. What was the point of having a fucking safe house? Trying to find a shred of patience, I tilted my chin skyward and took a deep breath. The night’s first stars twinkled overhead, but the universe didn’t hold the answers to dealing with asshole friends and melting down women.
I lugged the cooler into the cabin and put the perishables away in the fridge, then I unpacked my laptop and took a seat in the living room. I knew Jax as well as I knew myself, down to the ink on his skin and the tone of his voice.
And his habit of keeping up with local news.
Whatever he was holding back was bound to be on the Internet. I fired up the computer, foot tapping at the horrendous snail-like speed of my cell’s hotspot out in the middle of these woods. Loss of modern conveniences were a tradeoff for living off the grid.
Or as close to off the grid as we could get without living like primitives on the edge of a lake.
I pulled up a search of local news and scrolled through the info, looking for anything relating to Abbott De Luca. Alex had fallen silent, no more crashes or fist-pounding or screaming coming from the bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d fallen asleep already. Darkness had set in, only chased off by a soft light coming from the kitchen. It was late, and she’d had a long day. I’d bent her will, then pushed even further before we’d packed up camp.
And I was still high from taking that switch to her skin. I’d already fucked her three times in the last twenty-four hours, but my dick wanted more.
Always more when it came to Alex.
More pain, more tears, more howls of ecstasy.
She wanted more, too. She wanted to exchange vows and take my last name. Goddamn, that turned me on like crazy.
Alex Mason.
Mine.
Her last tie to the De Luca name severed.
Forever.
A photo on the screen slammed my thought processes to a halt, and I drew in a sharp breath. Her father’s frowning face stared at me, accompanied by the headline that he’d been released from prison early on good behavior.
This was the last thing we needed right now. Abbott De Luca had the power to fuck up my life all over again, only this time it would be for something I’d actually done. I’d kidnapped Alex, and if he brought that to light, I could kiss my exoneration goodbye and say hello to a new prison cell. Alex wouldn’t go along with him this time, but the man still had some clout, or he wouldn’t be out of prison so soon.
And then there was Zach’s claim that Abbott was behind the death of Alex’s mother, but without proof, her old man was just another common criminal. Corporate crime was a far cry from murder.
This could send her over the edge.
I set the laptop aside and ran my hands down my face, mind racing with the what-ifs. Reckless decisions were part of her DNA. But at the root of her soul, she was brave and as stubborn as a mule. She wouldn’t back down until she got the closure she wanted, and if she found out her father was a free man, I had no doubt she’d go after the answers that had been plaguing her, regardless of the danger he posed.
She needed a damn distraction.
Like a fucking wedding—something to keep her focused and safe from rash behavior. I’d let her stew in the bedroom for the night, then I’d give her what she wanted.
And while she was preoccupied with dresses and flowers and champagne, Jax and I would figure out what to do about Abbott Fucking De Luca.
7. BREAKING THE SHACKLES
Rafe
The next morning, Alex launched a table lamp at my head as soon as I opened the bedroom door. I ducked, and the thing ended up in pieces on the floor in the hall. She stood on the other side of the messy bed, her eyes a deep shade of green I’d come to recognize as dangerous. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, catching the natural highlights in her dark curls from our weeks spent in the summer heat.
“How could you?” The accusation was a snarl from her kissable lips, but underneath the vehemence in her tone, I couldn’t ignore the hurt. She glared at me, her tits heaving underneath the tight material of her tank top. I was tempted to punish her for putting it back on.
“Babe, calm down.”
“Calm down?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “You left me chained to the bed all damn night. Alone.”
It was the alone part that pushed her buttons, just as I anticipated. She was a spitfire of anger and indignation, but behind the facade lived a girl afraid of abandonment. Alex could stand on her own two feet—I had no doubt about that—but her fear of being alone without me was the catalyst for rattling her apart.
She picked up the clock from the nightstand and hurtled it through the air.
Taking cover once more, I rounded the bed and backed her into the wall next to the bedside table. I shoved her hands to the wall and scanned her arms for fresh scratches, but there were none. Despite facing the night alone in this room, chained to the bed, she hadn’t harmed herself, and that was a positive sign.
The bedroom, however, hadn’t escaped unscathed. She’d toppled over the chair in the corner, rifled through the dresser drawers, leaving clothing and kinky shit strewn about, and now that I caught a whiff of the crisp morning breeze, I realized she’d broken a window too.
“Are you done throwing your little tantrum now?”
“Not even close,” she hissed.
“Good.”
Her eyes widened, jaw going slack. “What?”
“That’s right. Good. I’m glad you’re angry. Be angry.” I narrowed the inches between us and pinned her with my stare. “Be so fucking pissed at me that you want to take my head off with flying objects.”
Considering the lamp and clock hadn’t met her wrath during the night, I assumed she’d saved them for me. Or more accurately, my fucking head.
She blinked, and I licked my lips at the sheen of tears collecting in her eyes. “Don’t fuck with my head, Rafe.”
“It’s too late for that.” I laced my fingers with hers. “Our heads are beyond fucked.”
“Why are you doing this? Can’t we…let’s just go back to camp.”
Returning to camp would keep her safer, but letting the past dictate our every move had to stop at some point.
“It’s time to get our lives back, sweetheart, and we can’t do that until you deal with whatever it is you’re avoiding.”
“I don’t want to deal with it!”
“Tough shit, Alex.”
She fought my hold, putting all her weight behind trying to fend me off. I slammed her hands to the wall again and silenced her startled cry with my mouth. As I thrust my tongue past her resistant lips, our fingers flexed, pushed, pulled. Her needy whimper threatened to tow me under.
I broke away before I lost myself in her devious kiss. “Don’t fucking move.” I kept my eyes on hers as I bent and freed her from the shackle. The metal barely clanked on the floor before she took off. I grabbed her by the ankle, and her forward momentum brought her to the floor with a brutal thud. As her shrieks pierced my ears, I escaped the thrashing of her unrestrained leg by an inch. With a rough yank on her
ankle, I dragged her closer, her body sliding across the hardwood with little effort despite the way she fought me.
“Let me go!”
Crawling over her, I pinned her lower body to the floor with my thighs and forced her hands to the hardwood on either side of her face, our fingers interlocked. “Yesterday wasn’t enough? You want to play again?”
“Fuck you.” The scorching fire in her gaze rushed through my veins. I found anger in her eyes, but underneath that, her diatribe singed with literal meaning.
“Are you wet, baby?” I pushed against her pelvis, all too aware of how her skirt had gathered around her hips during our fight. “Cause I’m happy to oblige.”
“Fuck you, Rafe.”
A quiver took hold of her lower lip, and she pulled it between her teeth. Then she blinked, her lashes fluttering as fast as a butterfly’s wings, as if holding back the burn of liquid pain.
“Don’t you dare hold back your tears.”
“Don’t you dare chain me to the bed again. Not here.”
“That’s exactly why I did it. And you know what?” I lowered my face until our foreheads touched. “I’ll do it as long as it takes. Tonight. Tomorrow. The day after.”
A quick shutter of her eyes forced the tears out. I watched them slide down her cheeks, entranced for a few moments before I licked up the salt of her despair, of the baggage she couldn’t let go.
“And I will always come back, baby. Just like I did this morning.”
“That’s what you said last time.” Her accusing tone pummeled me square in the chest.
“That’s the thing about second chances.” I closed my eyes and ran my nose alongside hers, breathing her in. “We don’t have to make the same mistakes again.”
“No more chains.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Shit, Alex.” I inched back and met her eyes. “How can I not chain you up? That’s like asking me not to fuck you.”
A quick breath puffed off her lips. “So this isn’t just about punishing me…or getting me to deal with the nightmares?”
“No. This is about me being a fucked up bastard for wanting to chain you to the damn bed. And baby?” I let go of her hands and rose to a kneeling position, settling between her thighs. “I want you naked.” Reaching behind me, I clamped my hand around her ankle, a proxy for the shackle I was tempted to put back on later. “Take off your top.”
Tucking her lower lip between her teeth, she raked her fingers down her ribs and grabbed the hem. As the green tank that matched her eyes exposed her tits, a breeze came through the hole in the window, disrupting the curtains in its wake. Her nipples formed two hardened peaks.
I traced the lines I’d left behind on those mounds yesterday, my fingers gliding over creamy skin marred by the pink remnants of pain. She pulled the tank over her head and flung it across the room.
“Hands above your head.”
She stretched her arms out, gaze never wavering from mine as I tugged the elastic waistband of her skirt down the sexiest legs I’d ever seen. Swimming had strengthened them.
“I’m fucking starved.” I was talking about more than food, but my stomach grumbled, demanding attention. “You must be hungry too.”
“Famished,” she said, licking her lips as she fucked me with her eyes.
“Food before fucking.” I rose to my feet and reached a hand out to her. “But first…” I brought her to the dresser and pulled a drawer open, hoping she hadn’t tossed out what I was looking for.
The clothespins I’d left there over a year ago still waited, their harsh clamps begging to tighten around Alex’s nipples.
“Put your hands behind your head.”
She laced her fingers at the back of her head, her mouth forming an irritable curve. “What am I being punished for this time?”
I cocked a brow at her. “Are you oblivious to the state of this room?”
“No.”
“And you remember throwing shit at my head?”
Nibbling on that lip again, she nodded.
“That should answer your question then.” I took a nipple between my fingers and rolled it until it formed an over-sensitive bud. I applied the clothespin, and my cock throbbed at the way she winced. As she hissed in a breath, I clamped her other nipple, then I ushered her out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen to get brunch going.
Having her naked with her nipples clamped while I waited for company heated my blood. Or maybe we’d just been on our own for so long, no one else around for miles, that I wanted to test how well she’d obey me in the presence of others.
Especially if that other person was Jax.
8. UNDERWATER EXCURSIONS
Alex
I was thankful for the summer heat. Despite the warm weather outside, goosebumps arose on my skin, compliments of my lack of clothing.
This felt wrong, being naked while Rafe worked at my side, clothed in gym shorts, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him. My nipples throbbed from the clothespins, but every so often I caught him staring at them, his eyes dark with want, and the answering twinge between my thighs reminded me that I needed to be on my best behavior.
If he didn’t fuck me into the next century soon, I might die.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he said, a knowing smile curving his mouth.
God, yes.
“Thinking about what?” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth because I knew it drove him nuts.
“You don’t do coy very well.” He moved behind me and settled his hands over mine as I grated cheese for the omelets he planned to cook. “Look at you,” he whispered, his lips teasing my neck, “being all domestic…and naked. The naked part is by far my favorite.”
“Rafe…” I sighed, and the block of cheese dropped to the counter, followed by the metal grater. He flicked the clothespins, and I let out a desperate groan.
“What will you give me in return for an orgasm?”
“Anything.”
“That’s a dangerous answer.” He lowered a hand and cupped my pussy. “How about a blow job?”
“A blow job?” I arched a brow because I sucked him off all the time. That wasn’t my idea of a difficult task.
“Fuck yeah, Alex. I want you to suck me off…in the tub.”
And there it was.
I stilled in his arms, but my heartbeat had other ideas. It accelerated to match the speed of a Bugatti. “Anything but that,” I pleaded, shaking my head.
“I don’t want anything else. I brought you here to confront fears. The tub’s one of them.”
“No! I-I can’t.” I pushed against the cage of his embrace, and he responded by banding an arm across my chest, his fingers clamping around my shoulder. He gripped me by the neck, and the heady smell of myself on his fingers drifted to my nose.
“We haven’t bathed properly in weeks. Let’s take a bath and put your mouth to good use.”
He wasn’t going to back down. Panic rose in my throat. He’d force me into the tub kicking and screaming. As if reading my thoughts, Rafe twirled me to face him then hefted me over his shoulder. The unchopped veggies, ham, and cheese were forgotten on the counter as he stalked toward the private bathroom off our bedroom.
“Please, Rafe! Don’t do this.”
He entered the bathroom, and the door slammed shut behind us. He lowered me to my feet before cradling my face between hands that issued as much pain as they did pleasure. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then prove it.” He plucked a clothespin from my nipple, making me yelp, and used it to clamp my nostrils closed. “Suck me off under the water.”
This was the side of him that terrified me—the unchecked darkness that ruled his actions. The part of him that bulldozed over my defenses, annihilating my limits as if they never existed in the first place.
Between parted lips, I breathed fast and shallow. “I’m scared,” I said, cringing
at the nasally tone of my voice due to the clothespin on my nose.
He placed a finger against my lips. “This mouth isn’t made for talking right now. It’s made for sucking. Turn around.”
I pivoted as he opened and shut a drawer, then the sensation of cool metal circled my wrists. Other means of restraints gave the illusion of the possibility for escape, but not handcuffs.
He removed the remaining makeshift clamp from my nipple, and the rush of blood radiated pain. I ground my teeth together as he switched on the faucet in the tub.
I wanted to run.
This was too much like the time on the island, when I had run, but he’d forced me into the tub anyway. He’d tortured the truth out of me.
Now he was forcing me to face my fears using the same method, as if submerging me in water would wash away my lack of trust in him. Because it was there, burrowing underneath all the things I did trust him with.
My body, my well-being, my safety.
But not my heart.
I’d given it to him freely, but my nightmares proved I was scared he’d disappear with it, leaving the type of gaping hole in my soul he’d carved out the first time he left.
Not just left…pretended to be dead.
My anger over that never ceased to fester. It was a beast inside me I couldn’t dispel.
The water shut off, and Rafe dropped his shorts. “Get in. We’ll start slow, I promise.”
I lifted a leg and set one foot in the tub. Seconds ticked by as our eyes met. I found madness and lust and determination in his green orbs.
Rafe had beautiful eyes. For all the darkness that corrupted him, he was beautiful through and through. As I stepped fully into the tub, I lowered my gaze to his ink.
How many times had I traced those black tribal lines with my fingers? Explored them with nothing more than the tip of my tongue, the salt of his skin a treat on my tastebuds? And Jesus, his cock. It stood proud, the tip jutting toward me, as if already seeking the warmth of my mouth.
Rafe nodded toward the slanted end of the tub. “Lie down.”
I dipped into the warm water, and only after I reclined did I realize how vulnerable the position left me. The tub was enormous, my toes barely touching the other end, and with my hands restrained at the small of my back, mobility was limited. I squirmed, shimmied, even balanced my spine on my fists, but one wrong move would send me under the water.
