SpeakeasySweetheart (2 page)

“
This
kind of trouble,” he said, picking up the
dropped conversation thread.

Every iota of her body wanted him to continue. She was
dripping with need and he was continuing to stoke her fire.

“I don’t mind an occasional…problem or two,” Sasha said.

“I doubt you’ve run into a problem of my magnitude.” He
flicked his fingers arrogantly and Sasha clenched, teetering on the verge.

“S-seeing is believing.”

He chuckled, raising the knee she wasn’t sitting on to
steady the wheel as his other hand went to her breast, tracing a tight circle
around her sensitive nipple. This time she couldn’t stifle her cry. Her hips
thrust of their own accord, riding his hand.

“I’ll make you believe,” he promised.

Just the thought of seeing his cock broke down her last bit
of resistance. Her entire body shuddered as she climaxed, still moving against
his hand. It had been so long…. She had no idea if she screamed or not as raw
pleasure coursed through her veins. Her splintered concentration only
registered his hand withdrawing, returning to the steering wheel.

“Still want to run?” he asked.

“Maybe.” Sasha looked sidelong at his profile. Some of her
defiance melted away as she caught sight of the smile tugging at his lips. He’d
enjoyed
pleasuring her? Her ex had always viewed it as a chore, something
to be endured.

She looked down, barely restraining herself from brushing
against the telltale bulge in his pants. God, he hadn’t been kidding about the
whole magnitude thing. He was huge.

“Believing yet?”

Sasha snapped her gaze back upward. “You’re
kidnapping
me, and we’re talking penis size?”

The Cadillac vibrated as it picked up speed, taking a sharp
right at the next corner. “Like I said, you’re in danger. If you go back to the
club now, you’ll be in serious trouble. Not just from the cops but from Cornell
himself.”

“I can’t just go off with you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Blaze O’Rourke.”

“But your real name is Octavian.”

The car screeched to a halt and Sasha found herself staring
into a pair of fierce eyes. “What else do you know about me?”

“You have a sinfully sexy chin.” The words popped out almost
of their own accord.

“And?” he prompted, unfazed.

“All the women in the—whatever that place was—have a huge
crush on you.”

“That’s not news. And baby, that was a third-rate New York speakeasy
we just walked out of. Did you think you were on Broadway or something?”

“I was just looking for a job,” Sasha said defensively. Now
that she was a graduate, that detail was technically true. “I might add that I
didn’t
walk
out of there, either. I was hauled out like a piece of
luggage.”

What the hell did he mean by
New York
? Was he still
acting? Surely they’d gone far enough by now. She craned her neck to peer out
the windows, but there were no cameramen in evidence.

“Better than spending the night in jail.” His foot went back
to the accelerator but his free arm stayed wrapped tightly around her waist,
keeping her facing him as she straddled his thighs.

“This isn’t very safe,” Sasha murmured.

“No it’s not,” Blaze agreed. “I left my condoms at home.”

Sasha spluttered. “I mean the driving. This car—does it even
have seatbelts?”

“Seatbelts?” he inquired. “No.”

Was he serious? Sasha gaped at him, and he seemed to soften.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you shouldn’t worry. This Caddy’s
perfectly safe. It rolled out of Detroit a matter of weeks ago.”

Any protest died on her lips as Sasha took in her
surroundings—
really
took them in. All the other cars were just as
old-new as the one she rode in. The men crowding the sidewalks wore fedoras,
the women sported bell-shaped cloche hats. Next to them a car horn hooted, the
areeba
sound causing her to jump.

This was no film set. Furthermore, this wasn’t Maine. And it
certainly
wasn’t the twenty-first century.

The girl was terrified. Blaze had half a mind to kiss her,
tease her back into eager pliancy. Having her atop him was almost painfully
sexy. He’d been surprised and pleased when she’d responded so willingly to his
touch. She’d cast him some admiring glances from the stage but things had moved
so quickly it surprised him.

Her ecstatic—and loud—climax left him wanting more of the
same from her.

But that would have to wait. Blaze parked the Cadillac and
cut the engine. Atop him, Sasha didn’t move an inch. Her wide eyes took in
their surroundings with the terror and bewilderment of a rabbit in headlights.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said. He’d intended to
drop her off somewhere safe but the dame didn’t look as if she’d survive the night.
Blaze couldn’t let her walk away in this state. Nor, he admitted, did he want
to.

He carried her over the threshold of his apartment, well
aware that he’d never taken a woman home before. The whole place was saturated
with his bachelorhood, from the casually draped trousers over the back of a
chair to the mostly bare cupboards.

Still, it was far better than the Hell’s Kitchen slum where
he’d grown up. He kept it clean and relatively uncluttered. It also had the
luxury of a large bedroom with high ceilings.

Not that Sasha was in any state to comprehend any of it.

He brought her a glass of water, leading her to the hardly used
couch. “What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Brown was right, but the door is…in that place,” she
said.

Definitely
some sort of belated shock.

“In Cornell’s club?” Blaze guessed. “You’re not going back
there.”

“I couldn’t if I tried. I don’t remember the way back.” She
turned those huge eyes upon him.

“You’re safer here,” he assured her. Blaze leaned forward
for a kiss, nibbling for a moment at her luscious lower lip. She was so hot,
opening her lips tentatively as she began responding in earnest to his
advances. Her tongue flicked against his—
yes baby
, he thought,
just
like that
. He was going to have to check himself soon if he wanted to hold
back.

After all, he reminded himself, he was the kidnapper here.

“If you want to stop…”

She shook her head, panting. Staring at him like he was the
only port in a storm. He liked that.

Still, he had to try again. “My brother and his wife live
nearby. You could spend the night with them.”

“Better the devil I know.” Her tart response made him grin.

“So I’m a devil, am I?”

Some of her shock seemed to be wearing off. She gave him a
muted smile, then gasped as he slid his hands up her blouse. Her breasts
spilled easily into his hands, their soft weight resting warmly atop his palms.
The thought of driving his cock through that silky valley almost took his
breath away.

“You’d come all over my chin,” she whispered.

Blaze tensed. He’d spoken out loud—fuck, he was losing it.
To her credit, she didn’t seem at all disturbed. So
was
she one of
Cornell’s prostitutes?

He dismissed that notion in the next instant. She wasn’t
worldly enough. Her movements were too hesitant, too genuine to be anything
contrived. He wanted to make her come again, hear that breathy little scream as
she found her release.

He settled for peeling her blouse off, undoing the buttons
one by one, forcing his hands into steadiness when all he wanted to do was rip
the thing off and throw it into a corner. It was warm enough for her to walk
around his apartment naked—always naked and available to him. Now there was an
appealing thought.

The garment fluttered to the floor, followed shortly by the
rest of her clothes until she was finally, gloriously naked in front of him.
Blaze flung his shirt atop the pile as an afterthought.

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers,
brushing tantalizingly against the head of his cock. After that, Blaze was done
being a gentleman about the whole thing. His trousers joined the rest of the
discarded clothes.

Blaze’s toes curled as she reached out to touch his
erection, her hand closing around his shaft and stroking upward until his
engorged head was enveloped in her warm grip. Her expression was one of rapt
curiosity, which only turned him on more.

Taking hold of Sasha’s hips, he backed her into the bedroom,
searching her face carefully for any signs of reluctance. Apart from a faint
blush, she was just as eager as he was. He dipped one hand between her legs to
double-check, relishing the gasp his touch provoked.

Then he tumbled them both onto the bed, taking care to
position her head atop the pillows as she landed, spread-eagled and pliant. She
was silent but her body was begging to be touched. Blaze begrudged the precious
seconds it took for him to slip on a condom.

He started with her breasts, taking one pert nipple into his
mouth and sucking hard. She arched against him, letting out a little cry of
pleasure. He couldn’t resist a tiny, triumphant smile at the way she responded
to him. So hot, so wet.

His cock jerked in anticipation but he took a few more
minutes to build her up. When he finally entered her, she rewarded him with a
long, drawn-out moan of pleasure that was music to his ears.

Blaze eased in, letting out a little gasp of his own as her
pussy gripped him tightly. She took all of him, silky thighs spreading wide.
Her auburn hair splayed out across the nearby pillows, her blue-green eyes
closing as he began thrusting, hard, long and slow.

He knew it wasn’t enough for her the moment she began
shifting restlessly, her legs sliding as she bucked her hips. Would she beg?

“Faster. Please, Blaze.”

That was good enough for him. He complied, giving it to her
just the way she wanted—the way
he
wanted. He wasn’t going to last at
this rate, was going to explode inside her any second now.

Her orgasm took him almost by surprise, her cries pushing
him over the edge. He pinned her hips to the bed as he spent himself inside
her, white-hot stars dancing across his vision.

After he recovered he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead
and withdrew. Sasha’s eyes were half-lidded, watching him sleepily as he
rummaged for handkerchiefs.

“The bathroom is to the right if you need it. No need to
leave the apartment.”

Her eyes widened, presumably at the luxury of having a
private indoor toilet. She rose in silence, legs trembling just the slightest
bit as she walked out of the room. Blaze suppressed a smug smile.

After she’d been gone a minute, he started to come to his
senses. He hadn’t meant to fuck the girl—she was Cornell’s singer, damn it. And
Cornell liked depraved sex. Rumor had it he’d strangled his last dame in bed.
Nobody knew whether it had been consensual.

Sasha seemed quite normal in bed—well, normal but amazing
all the same, he amended. She wasn’t entirely inexperienced but she was
certainly far more innocent than Cornell would require.

Blaze frowned. He really should question her as soon as
possible, find out where Cornell’s main residence was, what the man was up to.
Sasha was bound to have some information on the man despite her protestations
to the contrary.

His attitude softened as the girl came back into the room.
Sasha’s face was drawn and tired, her mouth opening in a helpless yawn as she
caught sight of the bed. He couldn’t bring himself to be harsh to her right now.

“Am I to sleep in here?” she asked.

“Unless you want the couch.”

“Mm. I hope you don’t snore.” She climbed into bed, curling
up next to him with another yawn. Her eyes closed as soon as her cheek hit the
pillow.

After a moment, Blaze followed suit. It was strange to have
someone else in his bed. He’d slept alone as soon as he moved out of the Hell’s
Kitchen room he shared with three of his brothers.

Eventually he relaxed, listening to Sasha’s even, steady
breathing. Tomorrow he would get some answers out of the girl.

Sasha came awake abruptly, staring uncomprehendingly at the
sleeping form next to her. Today was eviction day. Why was her ex sleeping next
to her?

Seconds later, realization flooded her. She wasn’t anywhere
near her apartment. Actually, the place probably hadn’t even been
built
yet.

She was definitely up an unsanitary tributary without proper
means of propulsion, as her mother used to say primly.

Even so, Shit Creek didn’t seem quite so bad with Blaze
around. She studied his sleeping form, blushing as she remembered how wanton
she’d been yesterday. How she’d writhed on his hand during the car ride,
screaming in release. She’d never done anything like that before and she could
hardly blame the vodka she’d drunk, because two shots had barely gotten her
tipsy.

Besides, Blaze O’Rourke was her kidnapper, even if he
claimed this whole thing was for her own good. “I’m developing Stockholm…”
Involuntarily, Sasha paused mid-whisper. “Syndrome.”

Strange. It was as if the universe didn’t want her linking
the two words together. Wait…wasn’t that particular theory discovered later in
the century? Maybe the psychologists in the twenties hadn’t coined the term
yet.

Maybe the door she’d walked through had stripped her of the
ability to mention anything from the future.

The thought gave her pause. If she walked back through,
would she return to normal? Blaze chose that moment to stir, flinging out a
possessive arm that she rolled away from.

What was she thinking? This was worse than having sex on the
first date. They hadn’t even
had
a first date! He’d listened to her sing
and then carried her off like some sort of caveman.

Sasha had to go. Find her clothes, get dressed…and then
what? Ask for directions back to that speakeasy? Did she really want to come
face-to-face with Mr. Asshole again?

She shivered at the thought. The guy had looked as if he’d
wanted to gut her like a fish and he was apparently the
second
in
command. The big boss, Cornell, must be ten times worse.

Rising, she stretched her slightly sore muscles, reaching
her arms toward the high ceiling and rotating her neck in a lazy arc. As she
turned around, she met Blaze’s smoldering gaze. He lay there taking in the
sight of her naked body, morning wood tenting the covers below his waist.

Sasha blushed at the attention he was paying to her body. “I
should go get dressed.”

“I like you just the way you are.” He crooked a finger.
“Come back to bed.”

“I’ve never had sex in the morning,” she blurted. It was
true—her ex only indulged in vanilla sex, always in the afternoon or evening
after he’d properly woken up.

The thought of a hot quickie in the morning stirred her
blood scandalously. She licked her lips, staring at Blaze hungrily.

“There’s always a first time for everything,” Blaze said. He
reached for another condom. “Do you want to be on top this time?”

Was he enjoying her discomfiture? Fine, she would show him.

“Sure.” She feigned nonchalance.

He made a satisfied sound as her hair brushed his chest. “I
like it long. Too many women cutting their hair short these days.”

“I like it long too,” Sasha murmured.

“I noticed.” He grabbed her hips, guiding her forward. “This
a first for you as well?”

“Being on—top?” She gasped and leaned forward as his cock
filled her. “Yes.”

“I prefer it when you’re straight with me.” His eyes
flashed, whether in pleasure or challenge she couldn’t quite tell. Perhaps it
was a little of both. She looked away, not quite ready to face up to reality
just yet.

As if sensing her reluctance to talk, Blaze gripped her
waist, helping her into a rhythm that suited them both. Determined to live in
the moment, Sasha welcomed the building ecstasy, the brief respite from real
life when she could soar to the heights of passion without worry clouding her
enjoyment.

Blaze reached one hand around her hip and—what was he doing,
touching her
there
? She was too far gone to stop him, clenching around
both his cock and finger as she shuddered in release.

“W-what are you doing?” she demanded when she could speak
again.

Blaze grinned without a shred of repentance. “Giving you
pleasure. You’re very tight back there.”

“For good reason!”

“Don’t stop moving,” he commanded. “We can pay attention to
your other areas later.”

“But I’ve already…” Sasha trailed off as she began to build
again. “I mean, I couldn’t possibly…”

His finger pushed deeper, simultaneously scandalizing and
exciting her. Twice in a row? She’d been lucky to come once with her ex. But
Blaze was doing it, taking her back…and this time he was with her, gripping
tight as he came inside her with a shout.

Had he shouted her name? No, surely she was wrong—or perhaps
he’d cut himself off mid-word. Either way, she was feeling sexy as hell as she
curled up next to him for a bit of recovery time.

“So you don’t like having a finger up your ass?” he
inquired. “Because you seemed to respond pretty well after the initial shock.”

“It’s never happened before.” Sasha shot him a reproving
look.

“Which means you’ve never been in Cornell’s bed.”

“Is
that
what this is all about?” Hurt blossomed
quick and surprisingly deep. “This taking me to bed. Is this your way of
getting even with Cornell or something? Do you two have a rivalry?”

“No, sweetheart.”

He spoke quickly but not soon enough. She was out of bed and
into the living room, snatching up her clothes. Sasha sat on the couch, glaring
at him as she buttoned her blouse.

Blaze didn’t try to dissuade her from leaving. He simply got
dressed and shadowed her, waiting patiently as she unlocked the heavy front
door and navigated her way down the steep stairs.