AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He takes it roughly as well as I did. “You’re more than welcome to do the recon from now on if it makes you feel any better.”
He’s right. Something is off about this. “You’d better hope your father didn’t lure us into another little game,” I warn Elena, who only turns her face toward the window. Does she know something? Was this all part of the plan? I want to shake the truth from her. Why can’t I break this woman?
Is her father that determined to risk her? He was the one ranting and raving over my having possession of something that belongs to him. I would think he’d be pacing the tarmac, eager to get a look at his little girl. He never so much as referred to her by name during our conversation, speaking only of his property and how I had better return it undamaged.
There are only so many gestures of goodwill I’m prepared to offer.
We pull to a stop with ten minutes to spare. “I’ll take a look around,” Prince mutters as he puts the car in park. “Stay put.” In another moment, I’m alone with her, and the tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Is this another one of your father’s games?” I ask now that we’re alone.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to make you understand that I have nothing to do with any of this.”
“You keep saying that, don’t you?”
“I don’t know why I bother. You refuse to believe me.”
“That won’t be your problem much longer, so long as your old man does what he promised.”
I watch her in the mirror, hoping to catch a hint of the truth in her reaction. There’s nothing about her to give me any deeper insight—she’s either the world’s greatest actress, or she’s telling the truth. Is it possible she’s nothing but an unwitting bystander in all of this?
It isn’t my problem. I need to remember that. “I’m going to untie your ankles like I promised. But the second you decide to pull a bullshit move on me, that’s it. You can forget any chance of seeing your father again.”
“I understand.”
I can barely hear her soft whisper. Not for the first time do I ask myself what sort of father Alvarez can be. She’s afraid of seeing him, isn’t she? Probably knows the shit he’ll give her for getting herself captured. I have no doubt he’ll grill her to make sure she didn’t give away any family secrets. I’m sure I would do the same thing in his position. A small part of me considers insinuating she spilled her guts; if only to pay her back for the shit she’s put me through.
The thought is enough to stir up a grim smile as I climb out of the car, slamming my door before opening hers. She tries to pretend she isn’t afraid when I reach in and take hold of her, but I know better. She reeks of fear, a bitter, acrid odor. I’ve smelled it before on my enemies. I’ve even smelled it coming from myself once or twice.
“Something feels wrong about all of this,” she whispers, staring over my shoulder as I loosen the knot. “Do you feel it?”
“Don’t you start. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t make me regret bringing you here.” I’m quick to untie the rope around her ankles before stepping back, surveying the area. Prince is walking the perimeter of the hangar, his head swinging back and forth as he makes his way through the tall grass and the hidden obstacles. No doubt there’s plenty of scrap metal and old tools, and God knows what else concealed by growth that’s waist high in some areas.
I take a slow look around me, turning in a circle. The clock is ticking. Where is he?
It happens all at once. All I hear is the slap of her bare feet against the hot pavement before I turn around to find Elena running full tilt for the field only yards from where Prince parked. She drops the rope that was around her wrists only moments ago—the bitch untied it along the way.
“You fucking cunt,” I growl, already hot on her tail. She’s flying, running at a pace only desperation can inspire.
But I’m quicker. I have rage on my side.
What begins as a scream ends as a grunt when I take her down, forcing the air from her lungs once we hit the ground. I roll her over, pinning her with my body, but she still struggles.
“You still think you can get away?” I growl, snarling at her while she tries to twist her body from side to side, landing one ineffectual blow after another against my shoulders. “What’s it going to take? What do I have to do?”
“Get off me!” She gasps, driving a knee into my ribs. Making her dress ride up higher than it already has, and instantly a deluge of dark fantasies flood my brain.
“You just can’t resist, can you?” I growl, pinning her shoulders to the ground. She looks up at me with nothing but pure, seething hatred in her eyes, and all that does is make me more determined to make her regret this.
Before I can, her knee finds my balls—not a direct hit, not even all that hard, but enough to knock the wind out of me for a second. It’s long enough for her to wiggle out from beneath me and fight her way to her feet. My arm shoots out, and I grab one of her ankles and bring her back down, pulling her to me while she cries out in frustration.
“So this is how you want it? You like it rough?” She moans out her dismay as I part her legs and yank her closer until my body is wedged between her thighs. “Maybe I’ll send you back to your father with a few bruises?”
She fights like a wildcat, punching and clawing, slapping my hands away from every part of her I make contact with, giving me no choice but to take her by the wrists and slam them to the ground above her head. This brings me closer to her, and I don’t know what takes hold of me. Rage, frustration, or maybe something even simpler than that. The way she turns me on the more she tries to fight. Whatever it is, it leaves me lowering my head and biting her neck, and I revel in the sharp gasp that comes from her when I do.
And in the way her hips jerk upward, grinding her pussy against my painfully erect cock.
It’s a battle between fury and desire, the two fighting for dominance just like we are fighting in the grass. Now she’s not fighting so much as she’s groping—it isn’t my cock convincing me of this, either. There’s a difference between clawing when one’s trying to inflict injury and raking one’s nails over a man’s back. Between trying to buck somebody off and fighting for contact.
