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Authors: Annette Blair
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here, 'I will not be re sponsible for your rescue, because I'll be too tied up to help"
"My knight on a white charger," she said, and he wasn't sure if he should be complimented or insulted.
"Oh, honey, I am so not a knight. I'm the fire-breathing dragon all knights fear, an d don't you forget it."
"Another good reason to keep you cuffed"
"What's the name of this place you're going into?" he asked.
"Captain Midnight's, a twenty-four/seven coffee shop an d eatery."
"Do yourself a favor and don't eat anything. Stick to the coffee. I'll be waiting."
She bent over him, gave him a glimpse of her luscious caged breasts, and kissed him with plenty of tongue, which made him want to give her plenty of s000 much more than tongue.
When she straightened, she moved to his torso and kissed the tip of his reaching cock through his boxers—the highlight of his night—then she petted her kitten, sleeping against his neck, and she left.
The minute the coach door opened, Aiden heard cheers an d applause. Women, it sounded like, lauding Storm for tying a man to a bed. Go figure.
Once the door shut, and he got over the shock of Storm's apparent victory over mankind, Aiden stretched to try to slide the handcuff up an effin' tall bedpost. Cuffed .. . to the rope-twist leather bed he'd fought to have modified and installed, rather than a same ole headboard screwed to the wall.
"Dumb ass perfectionist." Posts! He'd had to have posts.
On one hand, he wanted out. On the other, if Storm wanted to have sex with him shackled, she'd have to do all the work, so why spoil her fun—his fun—by freeing himself? Not that he was close to succeeding, but he preferred to believe he held some control over his life, such as it was.
The fact that he stopped trying to escape for the sake of some bitchin' badass sex probably meant that his kidnapper had made him as crazy as she was.
Sex Storm Cartw ri ght. Damn, he wanted to slip it to her.
Chapter Fourteen
•
IT took Storm longer to get back to the motor home than she expected, because she'd gotten stuck fielding questions from those applauding women and feeding them a pack of lies about why she kept Aiden cuffed to the bed. Of course, she hadn't called him by name. She hadn't needed to. They'd already given him a name in honor of his foxy good looks and silver briefs, the only clothes she'd left him.
She found Aiden sound asleep and drove for another hour, until about three in the morning, when she could barely see straight. Hard to believe, they'd only been on the road for a few hours. No campgrounds in sight, but she spotted a huge open field that called to her with vibes of happy childhoods and parents who cared.
She drove onto the field, well off the road, before she parked, locked up, and closed all the shades, including the power windshield-privacy curtain.
In the bedroom, she tossed her merry widow toward the chair, where Warlock meowed with annoyance and shook it off his head, and she wrapped herself in a blanket.
In the darkness, she noticed Aiden's eyes like pinpricks of fire aimed directly at her, as if he was determined to see into the depths of her soul and extract every mystery she kept hidden there. But she wouldn't let him. "Yes," she said with a knee-jerk defense, "I have years of embedded secrets, but they're buried so deep, even 'I can't see them"
Aiden gave her a half nod, as if he understood her convoluted thinking. Maybe they were more alike than they let on. "Maybe you refuse to see them," he said. "How many layers are you hiding?"
Storm considered the question. "Pretend I'm an onion. Peeling away my many layers produces tears. If you con tinue to peel, you allow yourself to be blinded by the tears, so your knife slips, makes a deep cut, and you bleed to death. Take that as a warning, McCloud. I'm not good for you. I'll suck the life right out of you."
"I believe we've already established that." He pulled against his cuffs to demonstrate. "You, Storm Cartwright,
"My knight on a white charger," she said, and he wasn't sure if he should be complimented or insulted.
"Oh, honey, I am so not a knight. I'm the fire-breathing dragon all knights fear, an d don't you forget it."
"Another good reason to keep you cuffed"
"What's the name of this place you're going into?" he asked.
"Captain Midnight's, a twenty-four/seven coffee shop an d eatery."
"Do yourself a favor and don't eat anything. Stick to the coffee. I'll be waiting."
She bent over him, gave him a glimpse of her luscious caged breasts, and kissed him with plenty of tongue, which made him want to give her plenty of s000 much more than tongue.
When she straightened, she moved to his torso and kissed the tip of his reaching cock through his boxers—the highlight of his night—then she petted her kitten, sleeping against his neck, and she left.
The minute the coach door opened, Aiden heard cheers an d applause. Women, it sounded like, lauding Storm for tying a man to a bed. Go figure.
Once the door shut, and he got over the shock of Storm's apparent victory over mankind, Aiden stretched to try to slide the handcuff up an effin' tall bedpost. Cuffed .. . to the rope-twist leather bed he'd fought to have modified and installed, rather than a same ole headboard screwed to the wall.
"Dumb ass perfectionist." Posts! He'd had to have posts.
On one hand, he wanted out. On the other, if Storm wanted to have sex with him shackled, she'd have to do all the work, so why spoil her fun—his fun—by freeing himself? Not that he was close to succeeding, but he preferred to believe he held some control over his life, such as it was.
The fact that he stopped trying to escape for the sake of some bitchin' badass sex probably meant that his kidnapper had made him as crazy as she was.
Sex Storm Cartw ri ght. Damn, he wanted to slip it to her.
Chapter Fourteen
•
IT took Storm longer to get back to the motor home than she expected, because she'd gotten stuck fielding questions from those applauding women and feeding them a pack of lies about why she kept Aiden cuffed to the bed. Of course, she hadn't called him by name. She hadn't needed to. They'd already given him a name in honor of his foxy good looks and silver briefs, the only clothes she'd left him.
She found Aiden sound asleep and drove for another hour, until about three in the morning, when she could barely see straight. Hard to believe, they'd only been on the road for a few hours. No campgrounds in sight, but she spotted a huge open field that called to her with vibes of happy childhoods and parents who cared.
She drove onto the field, well off the road, before she parked, locked up, and closed all the shades, including the power windshield-privacy curtain.
In the bedroom, she tossed her merry widow toward the chair, where Warlock meowed with annoyance and shook it off his head, and she wrapped herself in a blanket.
In the darkness, she noticed Aiden's eyes like pinpricks of fire aimed directly at her, as if he was determined to see into the depths of her soul and extract every mystery she kept hidden there. But she wouldn't let him. "Yes," she said with a knee-jerk defense, "I have years of embedded secrets, but they're buried so deep, even 'I can't see them"
Aiden gave her a half nod, as if he understood her convoluted thinking. Maybe they were more alike than they let on. "Maybe you refuse to see them," he said. "How many layers are you hiding?"
Storm considered the question. "Pretend I'm an onion. Peeling away my many layers produces tears. If you con tinue to peel, you allow yourself to be blinded by the tears, so your knife slips, makes a deep cut, and you bleed to death. Take that as a warning, McCloud. I'm not good for you. I'll suck the life right out of you."
"I believe we've already established that." He pulled against his cuffs to demonstrate. "You, Storm Cartwright,
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