Handcuffed by Her Hero (37 page)

Maybe if she kept her eyes closed
and imagined they were back in that tunnel in the park again, and he was
chasing away Kier for her again…

No. They were back in the jungle,
and he was carrying her to safety again.

No. They were in the middle of an
enchanted forest, and he was saving her sanity again.

“Hayes, you have
not
just
defied the dozen orders I issued for your ass to stay put in that hospital
bed.”

“My ass was all about towing that
line, Captain. But it is regrettably attached to the rebellious rest of me.” A
mouth, warm and full, dipped to her ear and whispered, “Namely my heart, which
really needs to tell you that I love you, too, Rayna Chestain.”

A soft sob spilled off her lips.
She opened her eyes. He was still here. He was still alive. He was still real.

He slid his lips across her
cheek, brushing them across her mouth before going on, “Just to be clear, the
fact that I love you doesn’t get you out of how I’m going to open you up for
that damn fool stunt with the grenade.”

He was still her hero.

“Eat your Jell-O.”

Zeke parked himself on Rayna’s
hospital bed, grinning at the fact that he weighed down the mattress enough to
roll her closer to him, and shoved a spoonful of the wobbling red food at her.
He also tried to ignore the fact that her answering pout all but begged him to
kiss her instead of feed her.

“
Rayna
.”

“No!”

“Are we going to do this again?”

“I’m sick of the damn Jell-O.”

“Eating the damn Jell-O’s going
to get you out of here.”

“You only had three days of this
shit. I’m going on day number seven here, Hayes.”

“I didn’t run to save Luna
Lawrence from a fucking grenade, Chestain.”

She stuck her tongue out at him
and tried to roll away. Zeke caught her by the waist and yanked her back.
Frustration was painted across her adorable face, and understandably so. She’d
been forced to do most things in this side position because of how the blast
had caught her. She and Luna had cleared the terminal’s back door before the
grenade blew but that hadn’t stopped huge chunks of the wall from getting her.
Everything between her nape and tailbone was pretty much a mess.

It could have been worse. Much
worse. If she’d tripped or stopped…or been delayed by even another second…

He gulped hard while tightening
his hold by a few careful degrees.

“Luna’s the reason you’re alive
and I’m not chained up in some jungle shithole, you dork.” She poked him in the
chest. He would have growled but she lingered her touch, using a finger to
trace the outline of his dog tags through his T-shirt. “She did the right thing
in the end,” she went on in a more sober tone. “She went to Franz and worked
with him to nail Mua.” She turned a hopeful glance up at him. “Did you talk to
her guards? Is she okay?”

“She’s doing good,” he assured.
“She got buried beneath you in the blast. They’re actually releasing her to the
prison infirmary today.”

Her smile made her face dance in
new beauty. Z was tempted to go silent and simply stare at her, but he came
here to say some things to her. Things that couldn’t wait any longer.

“You shouldn’t have been in that
grenade blast with her, Rayna.”

“Z—”

“You should have heeded me at
Garrett and Sage’s.”

“Really? And let that bastard deep
fry your nervous system?”

He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t
going to happen.”

She dug a knuckle into his chest
now. “The hell it wasn’t!”

He yanked aside her hospital gown
to seize the skin at her hip. At the same time, he stretched his body down the
bed, lying fully next to her. “You disobeyed me, Rayna.”

Her lips pursed. The skin-to-skin
contact had accomplished his intent. He had her full attention. “I wasn’t yours
to command.”

“As you clearly informed me.” He flexed
his inside hand against her jaw, nudging her face up. Their gazes locked. He
took full, glowering advantage. “I didn’t like it.”

She didn’t respond to that in
words. But her eyes returned his penetrating favor, saying so much more. They
were perfect and lush and green, reminding him of the oaks in that park the day
he’d taken her from Kier…the palms in the forest the night he’d taken her from
King…and the pines of the mountains where he’d taken her for himself.

That reflection stirred the next
words to his lips. “I didn’t like it,” he repeated, “and I don’t want it to
happen ever again.”

Her brows lowered, a pair of dark
strawberry slashes over her darkened gaze. “Oh? And how do you propose that
prevention, Sergeant Hayes?”

His grasp on her jaw intensified.
“For starters, you’ll stop calling me Sergeant Hayes. And you’ll start calling
me Sir.”

Her brows shot back up. Her jaw
popped open, letting her throat release stunned gasps past her cute pink lips.
She almost made him snicker with her gorgeous case of shocked shitless.
Fortunately, he was preoccupied with pulling out the thin black leather collar
he had coiled in his back pocket. He straightened it so the single, delicate
flamed-shaped drop was centered at the front as he slipped it around her
throat.

“This,” he explained, “will help
you remember, firebird.”

Her lips slammed shut as she
gulped hard. “F-Firebird?” she stammered.

“Yeah.” It resonated with the
warmth that suffused his chest as his heart sped up with anticipation. “That’s
what
I’m
calling
you
from now on.” He pulled gently on the red
and amber gem. “Master Z’s subbie needs more than a collar. You’ll bear the
name I give you, too. It’s pretty fucking perfect anyhow, yeah?”

Her jaw opened and shut a bunch
more times. “Zeke,” she finally blurted, “wait. Are you really—”

He cut her short with a deep
growl and a tongue-tangling kiss. “Don’t you dare ask me if I’m serious,” he
issued when they broke apart. He slid his hand beneath her panties, going for
an open grope of her warm, firm ass. “That question, that doubt, doesn’t belong
here. Not between you and me.” He lowered his head, biting at her mouth with
savage possession. “Rayna Eleanor Chestain, you are
mine
. You have been
mine for fifteen years. Fate had to kick me in the fucking teeth to show me,
but I’m never ignoring that bastard again.” He loved watching her tearful
giggle at that. He kissed her softly again before whispering, “I’m going to
care for you and cherish you, honey. I’m going to spoil you and pleasure you.
I’m going to give you everything you want, but not before you get what you
need. And yeah…I’m going to dominate you in every way you’ll let me.”

She sighed and gave him the gift
of her glimmering smile. “Yes, Sir.”

Zeke took her lips in a longer,
deeper kiss. As he did, he trailed his hand under the cotton that draped her
sex, letting his fingers drift into the heated crevice where her thighs joined.
“Mmmm,” he growled. “Say it again.”

“Yes,” she offered, so utterly
sexy, so completely free…his bird taking flight on the wings of her surrender.
“Yes always, Sir.” She moaned as he slid in a finger, claiming the most
sensitive ridge of her wet, pulsing pussy. As she threaded her fingers into his
cropped hair, she exclaimed, “Oh my God…once I’m out of here, I can’t wait to
get started!”

He dipped his lips to her
jawline. “Who says we’re waiting until you get out?”

“Whaaat?”

“My collar is on your throat, firebird.
You’ve said yes. Your submission to me
re
-starts now.”

She stiffened a little with
nervousness, though the tissues beneath his fingers turned even more moist and
plump. “Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he crooned.
Shit,
he loved saying that to her. “Now raise your leg and rest it on top of mine.
That’ll open up your lovely cunt for me.” He realigned their mouths so he could
give his next command in a murmur only she could hear. “I’m going to fuck you
with my fingers, firebird—and you’re going to let me. You’re going to get slick
and wet and hot, and then you’re going to come for me right here in this bed,
in this room. Do you understand?”

It took her a full ten seconds to
reply, since he didn’t relent the pressure on her clit at all. “Oh, God! Yes,
Sir!”

He tried to start out slow, but
once he got inside her, she gripped his fingers with such tight heat and
quivering need, it was a Herculean effort not to unzip, free his cock and push
inside her that way, instead. They both breathed hard as he pumped into her
with two then three fingers, hooking the tips to get at the secret spot deep
inside that made her pull at his hair in wild, uninhibited need.

With a violent keen and a fierce
feminine grunt, she broke apart in his arms. Her vagina clamped on his fingers.
Her hands clamped on his head. Her tears soaked his shirt.

Many minutes later, he gently
withdrew and used the tissues from her nightstand to clean her up. When he’d
finished that and righted her gown and blankets, she tugged him next to her
again. He lowered the bed so he could stretch his arm along her pillow and
cradle her head in the crook of his elbow. The entire time, the impish intent
in her eyes didn’t dim.

“All right,” he charged with a
chuckle, “what the hell are you thinking now?”

Rayna bit her lip and grinned.
“It was more a question than a thought.”

His lips curled up. He played
with the ends of her magnificent, fire-colored hair and stroked the light cream
column of her neck. It struck him now, why the idiot prince in the ballet had
let the firebird fly free. The dumbass was afraid. When you had magic sitting
in your hands, how did you feel anything
except
afraid? 

He was damn glad he’d figured out
the reply for that one.

The answer was: you didn’t.

You lived with the fear and you
pushed through it every step of the journey, every minute of the day, every
moment the ghosts came and tried to tell you that you weren’t brave enough,
strong enough, or good enough for the magic.

But the truth was…the bird had
landed in
your
hands. Trusted
you
with her heart. Given her magic
to
you
.

And that made you the bravest
fucking warrior on the face of the planet.

He felt his grin split a little
wider as he traced the outline of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Hmmm,”
he issued, making it half a growl. “Ask away, magic bird.”

She giggled softly and snuggled
closer to him. “The next time we do that, will you handcuff me first?”

A laugh filled his chest. He slid
his finger off her lips so he could mold his mouth to hers, claiming her with
all the passion that filled his soul and the love that consumed his spirit.

“We sure as hell can, honey,” he
finally whispered. “We’ll just use the ones you’ve locked forever on my heart.”

#
# #

ANGEL PAYNE
is thrilled to
be writing about courageous men of honor and the women who love them. She began
writing passionately in high school, and moved on to pen her way to
departmental honors for English at Chapman University in Southern California. Her
kaleidoscope of a past includes gigs as a fashion ramp model, music industry
production assistant, nightclub disc jockey, and over twenty years in the
meeting planning and hospitality industries. Her passions include pop culture,
alt rock, super heroes, shoes, coffee, and enjoying an active life in the
outdoors with family and friends. She still lives in Southern California with
her gorgeous daughter and amazing stud of a husband.

www.angelpayne.com

facebook.com/angelpaynewrites

Twitter:
@AngelPayneWrtr

Pinterest:
Angelwrites

Read
on to check out who’s featured in the next W.I.L.D. Boys novel

SURRENDERING
TO HER SERGEANT

Coming
in Fall 2013

And
previews from some of Angel’s friends…