Ransom (Dead Man's Ink Series Book 3) (14 page)

“Yes.”

“Say it. Say it, so you’ll remember.”

Sophia twists on the bed, making soft whimpering sounds. “Kansas,” she says breathlessly.
 

“Good girl.” I dive right in. I don’t give her time to overthink anything or worry about what I’m going to do to her. I pick her up—she weighs next to nothing after all—and I spin her over, holding her up by her waist. She gasps, her body bucking as she tries fruitlessly to maintain her balance, but she’s not going to be able to do that. She’s going to have to rely on me to keep her stable, and I’m only going to do that if she lets me have my way with her. I lay down on my back and I lower her on top of me, her feet and hands tied behind her back; her knees are the only part of her body that make contact with the mattress. She’s almost back in the same kneeling position she was in before, hovering over me. I hold onto her by the ankles, providing a stable platform for her to rest her weight.
 

“Fuck, Jamie. Fuck you,” Sophia pants. “You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I am. I told you, sugar. I want you riding my face like it’s my goddamn cock.” I shift down in between her open legs, and she can’t buck or wriggle away. She has to stay very still or risk toppling sideways off the bed.
 

“Look at me,” I tell her. She looks down the length of her body, her chest heaving, her tits rising and falling as she hyperventilates, and my cock starts throbbing again. It feels like I’m about to blow my load everywhere, and she hasn’t even touched me. Fuck,
I
haven’t even touched myself yet. Sophia makes eye contact with me as I slide my tongue out of my mouth and gently flick her clit with it.
 

“Shit,” she hisses. “Oh my god.” She blinks, her eyelids fluttering, but she doesn’t close her eyes. She watches me as I’ve asked her to. Slowly, I work the tip of my tongue back and forth, applying just the right amount of pressure to kick things off. Sophia gasps for air like she’s a woman drowning.

She tastes fucking incredible. There’s something about eating pussy. It’s always been one of my favorite parts of sex, but eating Sophia’s pussy is a whole different ball game. She doesn’t have one of those barely-there pussies, everything neatly tucked away. She has pussy lips, and I fucking love sucking on them. Teasing them. Teasing her everywhere—over her clit, over the slick, wet entrance to her pussy, down, over her asshole. Everywhere.
 

Sophia’s soon shaking, trembling, her whole body vibrating as I work my magic. She makes frantic, desperate sounds as I suck gently on her clitoris, laving my tongue up and down quickly with the very tip of my tongue again.
 

“Fuck. Holy shit, Jamie. This is…this is…”

Driving her fucking wild
. I can tell by how wet she is. It’s turning me on like crazy every time the sweet, glossiness of her pussy hits my tongue. She shied away from it when I asked her just now, but it’s not long before she’s rocking as best she can against my mouth, grinding her hips, riding me just like I wanted her to. She loses herself, completely withdrawn as she ascends toward her climax. I hold onto her tight, sucking, licking, swirling my tongue, as she grows more and more frenzied. Her tits bounce like crazy as she rocks, and it’s a miracle I’m not coming all over myself as she suddenly screams, head tipped back, chest proud, and she comes hard in my mouth.
 

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” She repeats this over and over as she comes, her body still shaking. I hold onto her tight, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere as I continue to flick my tongue against her overly sensitive clit. “Shit, Jamie. Shit. Stop, please!
Kansas, Kansas, Kansa
s
!
”

I probably wouldn’t stop if not for the safe word; it’s far too much fun watching her flip her shit. I need her to trust me, though. I need her to feel safe, so I stop.
 

Quickly I place her down on her stomach and untie her hands and feet. She’s boneless, unable to move as I spin her over onto her front and retie just her hands this time.
 

The item I collected from the bathroom has tumbled to the floor. I pick it up and hold it so she can finally see it. Her eyes, dazed and glazed over one second, are suddenly round and alert the next. “You are
not
using an electric toothbrush on me, Jamie.”

“Oh, but I am.” I turn it on, and Sophia pales a little at the high-pitched whir.

“I can’t take it. My clit will literally fall of my body.”

“I bet it won’t. I bet you’ll enjoy it an awful lot. Open your legs, Sophia. Open them for me and I won’t have to go find another toy to tease you with after this one.”

She swears under her breath. “Remember.
Kansas
,” she says, and then she opens her legs. She’s soaking wet. If she weren’t I might have rethought the toothbrush, but it won’t make her sore if she’s like this. It’ll send her into fucking outer space, and I will have the pleasure of watching that happen.
 

Carefully, I apply the vibrating end of the toothbrush against her clit, and Sophia’s hips rise as her eyes roll back into her head. She’s amazing. She’s so fucking beautiful. I watch for the next three minutes as she falls apart, and I take hold of my dick when she comes, finally stroking it, squeezing hard as she screams and pants. Her orgasms are impressive, consuming things.
 

I let her catch her breath before I allow myself to fuck her. Her eyes snap open, her lips slightly parted when she feels me slide inside. “God, Jamie,” she whispers.
 

“Wanna call Kansas?” I ask.
 

“No. No way.” She loops her bound hands over my head and hugs me to her. I fuck her with the force of a derailed freight train. After so much teasing, my dick is so sensitive, so hard, so ready to fuck that I have to fight off my own orgasm twice before I give in. Sophia’s thighs tighten around me, holding me deep inside her, my balls covered in her come, and I explode.
 

When it’s over, when we’re both spent and exhausted, our bodies tangled up in each others, our lips numb from the thousands of kisses we rain down on each other’s skin, we sleep like the dead. And I don’t think either of us minds.

CHAPTER TEN

CADE

I’ve never really wanted to hit a woman before I met Agent Denise Lowell. A part of me still cringes away from the idea, the southern gentleman in me skirting away from the concept of planting a right hook squarely into the jaw of a five-foot-five blonde, but when I see her getting out of a black sedan on the other side of the compound fence, I find my fingers curling in on themselves, forming fists.
 

She’s wearing aviators and a pale grey pant suit that screams power, her tailored white shirt tucked in at the waist. A tall, cookie-cutter generic dude gets out of the passenger seat, also wearing sunglasses, also suited, but nothing about
him
screams power. There’s no time to let Jamie know we have guests. I send Carnie a warning glance, carefully suggesting with my eyes that he should run up to the cabin immediately and let our boss know what’s going down. I, on the other hand, walk slowly toward the gate with my hands shoved into my pockets, all evidence of my terrible mood hidden from sight while I feign indifference over the fact that the DEA are on our fucking doorstep.

Lowell’s already got her badge out and is holding it up for me to see, sunlight glinting off the polished metal. “Hello, Mr. Preston. Glad we finally get to meet properly.”

I think she wants me to be impressed that she knows who I am. Like maybe I should be intimidated or something. I was stationed in Kabul and Helmand Province though, so this bitch had better try harder. “Dee Dee. I wish I could say the feeling was mutual. It isn’t, though. What can I do for you?”

“I need to speak with Rebel. Is he here?” She’s pressed her mouth into a pinched line, the edges of her lips turning white. I don’t think she liked the whole Dee Dee thing.
 

“I don’t know where he is. We don’t keep a tracking collar on him. I’m sure
you’d
like to, though, right?”

Lowell flips her aviators up, resting them on top of her head. Squinting, she looks off over her shoulder into the flat, dry, dustiness of the desert, her face in profile as she muses over my words. She’d be a pretty attractive woman if only she wasn’t such a raging bitch. “I’m fully aware that your club isn’t happy about my presence here in Freemantle, Cade. I’m also aware that you and your friend Jamie have some serious problems with authority. The Widow Makers run guns. You guys run drugs, too. You’re the least of my concerns, though. I’m more worried about the outside influences you’ve attracted into town, and what it is they might be up to here. I need Hector Ramirez in jail or back in fucking Mexico. Either way, I can’t accomplish this without evidence, and with no one willing to give up information they have on him, that’s making my job really hard.”

“Mmm. I don’t really know many people that would want to make your job easy for you, Dee Dee. You don’t exactly ingratiate yourself with folks. Not as far as I can tell anyways.”

She sends a withering look my way. I’m sure she’s had dudes’ balls retracting inside their bodies with that look. “I’m not in the business of making friends. I’m in the business of ensuring that the streets of this country are safe. If I have to rub a few undesirables up the wrong way in order to achieve that, then I say all the better.”

“Jamie’s not going to help you. He doesn’t have anything that can put Ramirez away. If he did, he would have brought it to you a long time ago.” This is the absolute God’s honest truth. I snagged the camera footage of Sophia being dragged into the side street by Raphael last year, but that’s literally all it shows. She’s on the street one minute, Ryan appears the next, and then Raphael is having both of them dragged kicking and screaming into the alleyway after that. Maybe that’s enough to arrest Hector with, but he’s a smart motherfucker. He wasn’t actually there when Ryan was murdered.
 

The only real evidence Jamie has against Ramirez is a person—Sophia—and there’s no way he’s willing to put her at risk. Not now. He was all for it back when we bought her from Julio, but now that they’re an item it’s pretty much impossible. He knows how unsafe it would be for her and her family.

There are plenty of files sitting in Jamie’s office that contain incriminating information about the Mexican cartel boss, but there’s nothing damaging enough to put him away. Ramirez always has other people to do his dirty work for him. Lowell shrugs her shoulders, pouting a little. “Well, I’d like to hear that from his mouth.”

“And like I said, I don’t know where he is.”

Lowell arranges her face into an ugly smile. She points over my shoulder, behind me. “Funny that. I believe I can see him heading this way even as we speak.”

I turn and see that she’s right. Jamie’s heading down the hill from his cabin, bee-lining for us at a frightening speed. He looks seriously pissed off. Carnie’s hot on his heels, following after him.

I grin back at Lowell. “Good luck, lady.” I take three large steps back to make room for Rebel as he pitches up in front of the compound gate, breathing heavily. “I didn’t think the DEA paid social visits,” he says.
 

“Oh, we do. Only when we’re feeling magnanimous, though. Only for people we take a
special
interest in.”

“And how do we remove ourselves from your special interest list, Denise? We don’t really like people showing up here unannounced. It makes our club members…twitchy.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have nothing to be twitchy about. Right?”

I hang back, waiting to see how Jamie plans on handling this situation. He’s way more diplomatic than I am normally, but can tell by the way he charged down the hill toward us that he isn’t in the mood to be cordial today. “Cut the shit,” he snaps. “What do you want?”

Lowell glances at her partner, who appears to be just about as vacant and useless as a human being can be and still qualify for the title. She sighs heavily, shoving her thumbs into the waistband of her dress pants. “I just want to do the right thing. I just want Hector Ramirez to be handled in the correct way. Now, I hear from multiple sources that you’re a good guy. That you like to do the right thing too. You were deployed out in Afghanistan for two tours, weren’t you? How does a guy go from serving his country to breaking her laws in such a short space of time?”

“If putting Ramirez away is your primary focus, Denise, maybe you should spend more time pursing that goal instead of Googling my ass. I’m sure that would be far more productive use of tax payers’ resources and effort.”

Lowell scowls. “I have minions who do my Googling for me. It’s really no skin off my nose. And besides, I get the feeling that leaning on you will get me Ramirez in the end. Call it intuition.”

“You can call it whatever the fuck you want. Are we done here?”

“That depends on whether you want to talk to me about your uncle,” Lowell says. Jamie’s hands twitch, but aside from that he shows no sign of annoyance or recognition.
 

“I don’t have any uncles.”

“But you did, didn’t you? Your uncle Ryan was murdered last year. He was found down a back alley in Seattle. Didn’t take much digging to discover he was presiding over a murder trial that Hector Ramirez was being prosecuted for. Ryan ended up dead, and the case was dropped. I found that highly coincidental.”

Jamie folds his arms across his chest, staring Lowell down through the wrought iron bars of the compound fence. “I hadn’t spoken to Ryan in years. I had no idea he was involved with Ramirez. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.”

“Tattoo shop business? Or gun running business?” Lowell smiles a sickly sweet, innocent smile that makes my fucking teeth itch. I’m sure it has an even more unpleasant effect on Jamie, since he’s standing that much closer and she’s aiming the smile at him. He takes three deliberate, slow steps toward the gate and stops right in front of her.