Bound and Determined (10 page)

Her throaty laugh had him digging his heels, taking deep breaths—anything to draw out the pleasure, make it last. The sight of her bare breasts only added to her considerable appeal and his uncharacteristic lapse in control.

Then she squeezed her hand around him in a firm grip and began to stroke.

Seconds later, Rafe knew Kerry’s deft touch would be the death of him. If he was going to go . . . well, he wanted to go in style. “I want your mouth on me.”

She stilled for a moment. He saw a hint of wariness in her eyes, along with sizzling arousal and more of that curiosity that ramped up his blood pressure.

She dropped her gaze to his cock, then lifted it back to his face. “You—you’ll have to tell me what, you know, you like. I’ve never . . . done this.”

“Really?” Had all her past boyfriends been eunuchs? The thought of being the first man inside her mouth made him wild.

Shyly, she nodded. “If I do something wrong, you’ll tell me?”

Wrong? At this point, as long as she didn’t try to pull a Lorena Bobbit with her teeth, she was going to be perfect.

“Yeah.” Rafe barely recognized the scratchy voice as his own.

How the hell had a woman as lush and gorgeous as Kerry gone her whole adult life without knowing this intimacy? Which led him to wonder . . .

“Has any other lover performed orally on you?”

She flushed a darker shade of pink. “No.”

Another first. Amazing. Arousing. What other delights
could he show her? The visions in his head were plentiful and definitely not fit for youngsters or those with heart conditions.

“There will be lots more of that,” he promised. “Later.”

A tremulous smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. “Guess I know what you want now.”

“God, I hope so.”

“You’ll tell me, right?”

“Absolu—ahhh.” The silken heat of her mouth slid over the head of his penis, her tongue hugging the underside. With a delicate swirl, she covered him from base to swollen purple head. Filtering his fingers through the thick tangle of her curls, Rafe moved the pale curtain aside and anchored his hand on her nape to watch the erotic sight of her sampling his cock.

White-hot sensations jolted through his gut. They spread at the incredible suction of her mouth rising up his length. “Yes.”

Kerry repeated the process, once, twice, so fucking slow he felt each swipe of her tongue, every inch of her hot mouth. Ah, heaven.

Soon, she raised one bound hand, pulleys extending, to grip his base. With the other hand, she traced an intricate pattern inside his thighs, in the crease between his leg and groin. Between the sight of her submissive pose and the feel of her hot mouth, he couldn’t hold back the moan rumbling from his chest. She gave a little answering sound that vibrated down his cock. Could a man die of pleasure? If he wasn’t careful, Kerry would help him prove that possible.

Rafe barely had the time to note that the rest of the blood in his body had rushed into his erection before his entire body tensed. Tingles danced up and down his spine. Just another heartbeat, another breath . . . He gripped the sheet in one tight fist, Kerry’s hair in the other—and felt his world explode.

Pleasure drenched every crevice of his body, swirling like a heavy liquor in his limbs, robbing him of breath, of thought. Not only was he about to die, he was dying happy.

Wow. If that blow job had been all about saving her brother and nothing else, he admired Kerry’s gusto. For an amateur, she’d certainly handled it all like a pro. But given the fact her gorgeous green eyes looked to him for approval, he knew better. Another warm pang took up residence in his chest.

Blow jobs didn’t usually make him feel warm and fuzzy.
Relaxed and mellow, yes. Prepped him for round two—every time. Again, Kerry proved she affected him in some odd way that defied the logical universe as he knew it. Kind of like the woman herself.

His first urge was to bring her close, hold her against him.

“At the risk of sounding clichéd,” she murmured, “was it good for you?”

Rafe couldn’t hold in his laugh. A long, loud one, which earned him a half-serious punch in the stomach.

Kerry frowned and withdrew to the other side of the bed. “Hey! Be nice.”

“Nice isn’t something I’m noted for,” he admitted and pulled her close against him, her side tucked under his arm, her body nestled against his. This felt weirdly right.

But she struggled in his grip, reaching for the sheet to cover herself. “You know what? I don’t care if it was good. I don’t care if I improve. I’m not going to be laughed at—”

He kicked the sheet away and framed her round cheeks in his hands. “You were wonderful. I’m not laughing at you. Well, I’m laughing at your line. I mean, you have to ask yourself, did I moan? Yes. Did I last long? No. Did I come like there’s no tomorrow? Oh, yeah. Mission accomplished, I swear.”

Kerry smiled and relaxed. “Good. Will you move your legs so I can have the sheet?”

“Cold?”

“No.” A delicate flush spread across her face. “I just don’t lounge naked in front of guys.”

She did now. “If you’re mine for forty-eight hours, I want you naked. No sheet.”

With a less than graceful sigh, Kerry accepted his edict. “You’re bossy, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I should ask you to cover up, then.”

“Not in the mood,” he quipped. “It would only be a waste of time when I decide I want you again.”

“Oh, what about when I want you? I mean, my sister-in-law told me oral sex was awful. But that was fun. I enjoyed having you in the palm of my hand—literally.”

“Liked the power, huh? The control.”

Kerry flushed and flashed him a smile that was half-coquette, half-sin. “Did I like knowing I could turn Mr. Big and Bad into Play-Doh? Sure.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he warned. “I have ways of making you scream my name.”

She laughed and curled up against him, as if she belonged there and nowhere else. Damn if she didn’t feel that way to him, too. God, had someone dropped him into the Twilight Zone? What was next, Marilyn Manson as President? He never liked to “cuddle” afterward. Cuddling was for kids with teddy bears.

But Kerry was . . . Kerry. She was as sunshiny as her hair. Somehow she kept him guessing, got him laughing—things he hadn’t done with a woman in a long time. Maybe not ever. It seemed impossible that he was actually liking the nutcase who’d abducted him.

“We’ll see,” she breathed against his chest. “In the meantime, I might call Tiffany and tell her she’s wrong about oral sex. Of course, since she’s married to my brother, having that conversation with her makes me think of her doing it to Mark, then I get grossed out.”

Rafe frowned at that logic. “If your brother is married, don’t you think he’s having sex?”

“I just didn’t want to think about it.
Eeewww!
That’s like imagining grandparents going at it.”

Again, he laughed. “I never thought of it quite like that, but okay, I get your point.”

“Thank you. Can we drop the whole Mark-having-sex thing?”

“You brought it up.”

Kerry paused, clearly thinking. “Oh, I did. Sorry. It’s forgotten.”

“Good . . . I guess.”

Silence followed. Rafe found himself smiling as he stroked her bare back and enjoyed the smooth line of her spine, the swell of her buttocks under his palm. Kerry the kidnapper was proving to be one interesting woman.

“Why did you agree to forty-eight hours of sex just to save your brother?” Rafe couldn’t hold back the question. “Why not wait and see how the trial goes first?”

“You’re not exactly a hardship,” she admitted with a smile.

“Even so.” He smiled at her backhanded compliment. “Kidnapping me, agreeing to have sex with me; they’re big steps to help someone you don’t know for sure a jury will find guilty.”

Kerry shook her head. “He has no one on his side. The investigator has decided he’s found his man. The public defender is overworked and, I think, out of his league. Mark had plenty of access to the money and ample motive. His wife is overwrought and not equipped for the stress. He has no one to help him except me, so I’m going to do what I can. I owe him that.”

“Owe him how? Because you share blood?”

“He practically raised me. Our dad died in a car accident when I was two. So Mark, my mom, and I were tight. When I was little, we lived in this teeny apartment near the mall. Not the best neighborhood, but all Mom could afford.” Kerry paused, swallowed. “When I was eleven, I was really sick; high temperature, sore throat, the works. My mom ran to the corner convenience store at, like, midnight to get me some cough syrup.”

She got quiet, teared up. Rafe had a bad feeling he knew where this story was going.

“Asshole with a gun?” he asked gently.

Kerry nodded. “The robbery was in progress. He shot her twice, and that was it. Her life was over. I remember thinking at her funeral that mine was, too. I still miss her so much.”

Rafe understood. The words clogged in his throat, so he just kept stroking her back, offering silent comfort.

After a sniffle, she went on. “The foster system got ahold of us after that. At least they kept us together. Mark sheltered me from everything bad. He helped me with homework, protected me from school bullies who threatened me, beat up guys who thought I was an easy target. I still remember him trying to explain my period to me when he barely understood it.” Her shimmer of a smile brimmed with affection. “He taught me physics, how to play football. Mark did his best to be both a mom and dad, even though he’s only four years older.

“When he turned nineteen, he scraped together some
money and petitioned the courts for custody. At the time, he was working for a bank, so he got custody. It was so great to be out of the system, away from people who never let you forget for an instant that the only reason you lived in their house was because the state paid them.”

Without thought, Rafe tightened his arms around her. She’d had a tough childhood, and her brother, guilty or not, clearly meant a lot to her.

“You and Mark are real close, it sounds like.”

“Mark is all the family I have left. I’d do anything to help him.”

“I got that.” He caressed her shoulder. “So he took you in when you were fifteen, and things have been peaceful until recently?”

“I wish.” Using the cuffs’ retractable feature, Kerry sat up and curled her knees up to her chest, securing them to her with her arms. “Just before I turned seventeen, Mark was diagnosed with an advanced form of melanoma. He lost his job because he missed so much work. That meant he lost his insurance, too. I took afternoon and weekend jobs to pay rent, buy food, pay bills. It wasn’t enough, not even close. I felt like I let him down.”

Rafe grasped her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. “You were a kid. You couldn’t have done more.”

She shrugged. “When Mark recovered from cancer two years ago, I thought he finally had a second chance at life. He was beginning to pay off his medical bills, though it’s going to take years. I’m helping him as best I can. And he married Tiffany six months ago. She makes my neighbor’s poodle look like Einstein, but Mark loves her, I guess. His life should finally be happy. Instead, he’s facing this crap.” She shook her head. “It just not fair. He sacrificed so much to see me happy. Once, he even sold the stamp collection he’d had since he was really little to buy me a birthday present. He’s a great person, not a thief.”

If even half of what Kerry said was true, Mark was a hell of a guy. It was possible she was deluded. Often family members really didn’t know as much about their loved ones as they imagined. But as crazy as Kerry could be, she didn’t strike him as stupid.

In fact, she struck him as brave and unbelievably loyal. What kind of courage did it take for a woman to break the law and abduct a guy half again her size just to help a loved one?

Oh, he still wasn’t pleased at being drugged, dragged, and bound, lied to and manipulated. The edge of anger still festered in his gut, though a great orgasm had taken the bite out of his fury. Rafe couldn’t deny, though, that he understood Kerry’s reasoning a whole lot better now.

“Mark deserves a fresh start—not to be in prison with a hairy boyfriend named Bubba! I can’t afford to hire a private investigator, and the FBI won’t help. Everything Mark’s boss uncovers makes him look that much worse. But I know they’re wrong. My brother is innocent.”

“Why didn’t you say any of this over the phone? You might have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“I was nervous and emotional. I didn’t know you. Your assistant all but read me the riot act when I tried to talk to her. Besides, would you really have listened and helped?”

Rafe hesitated, then admitted, “Probably not.”

Kerry shot him an I-told-you-so glance.

He’d been so driven for so many years to prove his success and abilities, both to himself and his old man. Listening to Kerry babbling over the phone about sibling love and loyalty would never have registered. Not until he met her, started to understand her.

“So,” he began, “I’m listening now. Tell me about your brother’s case. I need dates, events, and the FBI’s theory. If you have any of the reports, that would really help.”

Thank you,
she mouthed, her green eyes luminous and soft.

Just one look and Rafe felt something inside him melt like plastic under a blow torch. He held Kerry closer. This really meant a lot to her, and for the great sex he knew they would have, the few hours of his time it would take to look into Mark’s situation was nothing. He’d definitely negotiated the better part of the deal. Kerry’s agreement to be available to him in any and every way far surpassed the sacrifice he would make in rummaging through a few files. Despite his abduction, which in his book put a lot of points in his favor, maybe this deal was unfair. Should Kerry really have to scrape
together the trust to open her body to any and all invasions he could think of just to help her brother?

His mind quickly approached an answer his body didn’t like.

“In the closet in the hall is a built-in dresser. In the top drawer, I have a file of everything you need,” Kerry indicated, breaking into his thoughts.