Her first whimpered cry had grabbed my attention as I’d stealthily made my way through the shadows of the lodge, quietly creeping up the stairway and along the carpeted hallway near her room. Her second had made my cock come to life as I’d approached the door to her private suite and quietly entered using a key I’d stolen from the front desk.
Now I’m in the room with her, and she doesn’t even know I’m only yards from the bed where she is rubbing her pussy and moaning with pleasure.
I adjust my cock and remind myself to focus. But it’s hard to do when she’s lying on her bed, moonlight raining down on her near-naked body as she touches herself. It’s hard to keep my mind on the task ahead when all I can see is the milkiness of her skin, the firmness of her thighs and the way they clench as her pleasure swells and then recedes, only to come back fast and twice as intense.
She breathes out a whimpered moan, not realizing I’m watching her, and I grab my erection through my pants, unable to resist a few rubs against the hard shaft. My knees weaken slightly and I lick my lips as a need for release stirs in my balls. Yeah, baby, rub that pussy. Come for me, angel. My breathing quickens, my heart pounds against my ribs.
Watching in the darkness isn’t usually my thing.
I’m not a creeper. I prefer the real thing to watching.
But damn, this woman has me aching hard.
She is fascinating.
Beautiful.
But time is of the essence. They’ll be here soon. And her life depends on me getting her out of here without them seeing.
Today I overheard them. Overheard their plan. If I didn’t do this now, tonight was going to end badly for her.
She cries out as she comes, and I have to bite down on my lip as a groan strangles in my throat.
Startled, she sits up.
I snap to attention.
My cover is blown.
She knows I am here.
Chapter Three
LAUREN
I grab the sheet and pull it over me.
“Who’s there?” I demand.
My heart drums against my ribs. I know I heard something in the shadows. I squint in the darkness but can’t see anything. I hold my breath and strain to hear. But there’s nothing. I reach for the lamp on the bedside table but it doesn’t switch on.
Certain something is wrong, I cross the room to the light switch on the wall. Nothing. The power is out.
Feeling vulnerable in nothing but my panties and tank top, I reach for the closest item of clothing—which is a coat hanging over the arm of a chair next to the bed—then move quickly through the darkness to check the light in the bathroom. But it’s out too.
Something is definitely wrong.
Knowing I need to contact the concierge, I reach for my yoga pants and slip on a pair of knee-high moccasins that are close by and pad across the room to the door. But as I reach for the door handle, a gloved hand slides across my mouth and a hard, solid body moves behind me and crushes me to the firm wall of muscle.
“If you want to live, don’t scream,” the deep, husky voice rasps in my ear. It’s a man. His voice a hoarse whisper, his breath is warm and oddly comforting on my cheek. I nod, my heart racing.
Take it all in and remember it for later, my survival instincts scream at me.
Okay, so a man has me in his arms and he is big. At least six foot five, six foot six. And hard. Everywhere. And the arm hooked around me is huge, in fact, it’s so big I doubt I could get my hands around the biceps, given the chance.
A strangled whimper escapes me and his hold on me tightens.
“If they hear you, princess, they will hurt you,” he growls in my ear.
I don’t know who they are.
And I don’t know who he is.
All I know is I am in danger and I need to fight.
With an almighty stomp, I drive my foot down onto his and thrust an elbow deep into his stomach. But his abs are strong, hard, and pain glows in my elbow. But it’s enough to catch him by surprise and he releases his hold on me.
I try to run, but with a frustrated growl he wraps another big arm around my waist and thrusts my body up against the wall. Bulging biceps cage either side of my head, while a powerful body pins me against the wall. It’s then that I get my first look at him. He’s dressed in black with a balaclava over his face, and just his emerald green eyes exposed.
I gasp.
Those eyes.
It’s him.
The handyman.
For a moment they hold me mesmerized, just as his strong body keeps me pressed against the wall. I can feel every inch of him. Every hard inch, and my breathing hitches.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
A gloved hand slides across my mouth. “You need to trust me. Or they will find you and they will take you.”
Our eyes remain locked as I slowly nod.
He releases his grip on me and I exhale deeply. It’s crazy to admit, but those eyes tell me he isn’t going to hurt me. That I should trust him.
I relax slightly and he can feel it. He takes a step back, but his eyes keep me pinned to the wall. A small throb of desire quivers in my pussy. A minute ago, I was making myself come fantasizing about him. Now he’s standing in front of me, and from what I can tell, he’s going to take me somewhere and I’m not even frightened. Even though he just told me I was in danger and someone wants to kill me. Instead, excitement and lust collide in me.
It’s official. I’m fucking crazy.
Together we move through the dark. Moonlight stripes the plush carpet in the hallway of the lodge as we make our way down the stairs and across the grand foyer toward the front door.
I think about yelling. Not because I want to, but because in these instances yelling would be expected. My screams would echo throughout the lodge and alert everyone to what was going on. But something tells me it wouldn’t be in my best interest to do so.
We slip outside and it’s a starry night, even with the full moon. It’s also biting cold, and I can feel the chill whipping against my skin as we move quickly around the main building. Silhouetted against the light, the man who is taking me looks even bigger. Broader. His shoulders are wide, and his impressive bulk moves with athletic precision through the darkness.
We’re just about to make our way along the cobblestone path toward the parking lot when two shadowy figures appear out of nowhere. It all happens so fast. One minute three men in black appear out of nowhere, the next, they are lying on the floor thanks to the man I only know as the handyman, and some of his pretty fast and lethal moves.
He grabs my hand and pulls me deeper into the darkness. But more men appear, and again he takes them both out with powerful force, dropping them to the ground. One grabs me, and my instincts force me to jam my elbow into his ribs, and when he lets go, I slam my foot into his groin. He groans, clutches his balls as he sinks to the cobblestone driveway.
“Nice work, Princess,” my kidnapper says, grabbing my wrist again and leading me through the shadows and down the long driveway. Up ahead I see the shadow of a vehicle among the trees, and as we get nearer, I can see it’s a Jeep with a lot of antennas and lights on the outside.
Just as we get to it, I slip on the frost-soaked grass and fall over. But big hands haul me effortlessly to my feet.
“Get in,” he says.
And I do.
I climb in because it hasn’t skipped my attention that the men who attacked us weren’t the usual security patrol my daddy had on his payroll. Like my kidnapper-slash savior, they were men dressed in black with balaclavas. Daddy’s security team doesn’t wear balaclavas. Only people who don’t want to be recognized do.