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But it was what she did next that had him popping the door open and striding over to them.
Resembling nothing so much as a cornered—and dangerous—animal, she cried out as the bag was brought down over her face. In an instant, she lowered a shoulder, and rammed herself straight into the solar plexus of Markus, the blond-headed leader of the detail assigned to her pick-up that day. Shockingly, though he was twice her size, Markus seemed utterly taken by surprise—and he toppled over onto his ass, sprawling across the cold blacktop of the parking lot. His partner, a rookie named Wecklund, froze for just a split second, evidently as surprised as Markus had been.
It was all the opening she needed. It was clear she couldn’t see a thing through the black sackcloth, but still she spun around and took off. Making a rough beeline back toward the office building, moving quickly, but not heedlessly, the former agent was clearly doing her level best not to lose her footing and crash to the pavement—which would mean leading with her face since her arms were locked behind her.
“Not so fast,” Dmitri muttered to himself, dashing out of the truck. He caught her in moments, catching her by the collar of her suitcoat. She squawked as he pulled her up short, the muffled note of ripping fabric heralding the coat slipping down both of her shoulders—revealing a long-sleeved white blouse—and bunching at her mid-back. Immobilizing her arms even more, pinning them to her sides.
He quite liked the sight of her even more helpless.
“Mother…fucker!” she hissed, trying to wheel around.
But he wasn’t going to let her even get that far, gripping the locks of her long hair where they cascaded down from under the blackout bag, and hauling her back against his chest.
Markus and Wecklund were at his side in a heartbeat.
“I’ve got her, boss,” Markus muttered, a sheepish note to his voice.
“No, you don’t.” Dmitri tipped his head back toward the SUV. “You two get in the truck, and wait. I’ll handle her myself.”
“You won’t handle…shit!” she screeched, driving her foot downward on his toes twice with the heel of her shoe. Fortunately, the steel caps of his boots prevented her from doing any damage at all.
Save perhaps to her pride.
She grunted in frustration, squirming within the embrace of his arms.
He held her in place with ridiculous ease though, unable to help his smile as he drew close, whispering, “We’ll sort out that little attempted heel stomp once we get you back to the lodge and have a look at you.”
In truth though, the Draw was already wearing him down. The heaviness between his legs was a throbbing need now, his cock so hard he worried it was about to burst. His mouth was dry, all his awareness focused on the contours of her body, the way her ass brushed involuntarily against the bulge of his genitals, his slacks doing absolutely nothing to hide the effect merely her proximity was having on him. The defiance the female was showing only made her more intriguing, and a part of him admired it, utterly futile though it may be.
And he relished the prospect of showing her just that.
“Let me go!” she yelled. “I’m a fucking agent! You can’t fuckingdothis to me!” Her head swung around with wild abandon as she said it. Judging by the pained note in her voice, it must have hurt the roots of her hair terribly.
“Not a chance. You’ve already proven you’re going to be difficult.”
“Difficult? You motherf—” She sighed then, but the tension was still clear in her tone. “I’ll cooperate… just get these goddamned cuffs off me. They’rekillingmy wrists.”
He thought about it for a moment, curious as to what she might be angling for. He glanced over at the SUV, raising his voice. “Markus! You have the handcuff key on you?”
The blond man was out of the vehicle in an instant, the silver key dropped onto Dmitri’s outstretched palm. He shared a quick look with the security team lead, the man’s raised brow indicating a willingness to take over.
“We’ll just be a minute. Go make sure Wecklund doesn’t fall asleep in there.”
With a wary shake of his head, Markus retreated back to the idling truck.
A zephyr of breeze swirled around their legs then, and it carried Stacy’s scent—which made Dmitri nearly growl with desire. How could the mere scent—albeit spicy with fear and anger—of his quarry be having this effect on him? His visceral reaction, and sudden desperate need to be inside this omega was very much akin to the first time he’d fucked a female, a beta who’d been provided by his father to “help the boy get it out of his system” not long after Dmitri’s eighteenth birthday.
“I’m doing thisonlybecause I want to give you a chance to obey.” He was calculating the odds of how likely it was she would comply. He guessed they’d be somewhere between long shot and laughable.
She didn’t disappoint.
He gripped the chain of the cuffs to secure her, then put the key in the lock. The very instant he’d freed her left wrist, she slipped her other hand completely through the still-closed right cuff. She movedfast—faster than he’d have expected from a human—and as he reached for her, his fingertips just brushed the back of her suitcoat before she shot away from him, straight across the parking lot, and apparently making for the dense line of trees and underbrush just beyond the curb on the opposite side of the SUV. She tore the black hood from her head within three strides, looking back at him, eyes wide, her long hair a tangled, crazed mess framing her flushed face.
He chuckled under his breath as he dashed after her. In moments, he was upon her, taking hold of her hair with a sharp cry from his quarry, her fingers clawing at his fist. With a quick, sharp yank, he hauled her down to the ground, and she struck the grass with a sharp gasp, landing squarely on her back. She rolled onto her hands and knees, but he wrapped his arms around her, picking her up bodily before she had a chance to regain her feet, and marched her back toward the truck.
“Youfuck!” she snarled, kicking at his knees, and slamming her head back into his chin. It hurt, but she was much,muchtoo weak to do any real damage to him.
He pressed her hips against the front fender, using his hold on her hair, and a steel grip on her left hand to force her over the hood. She squawked immediately. “Hot!Fuck, you’re gonna burn me!”
