Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 15 из 56



He bent his knees as far as he could, given the restraints threatening to pull his joints from their sockets. It didn’t do much, but it gave him a small amount of leverage to cushion her soft buttocks and aid the upward thrust of his hips.

Blood thrummed through his veins, white-hot and on the verge of overflowing while he took in the sway of her breasts, the bounce of her slim frame, and the increased speed of her hand pressed between their two bodies as she fingered herself.

“God, yes,” he rasped, not caring that he was completely at her mercy and fading fast. “Can you feel it?” he asked, knowing she could, reading the signs clearly on her face and in the way she ground down on him, harder and faster with each passing second. “Can you feel me inside you, ready to burst?”

And, God, was he. His balls were tight, his cock swelling with approaching orgasm.

“Gage,” Je

And she went, toppling over the edge with a sudden cry of pleasure that reached into his gut and wrapped around his soul. Her slick i

With his own shout of completion, he stiffened and poured himself into her. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy washed through him, through both of them, until he was finished.

Sated. Done for. Wiped out. A five-alarm fire burning the old farm house down around his ears couldn’t have made him budge.

And from the looks of it, Je

If his arms were free, he’d wrap them around her, hold her close, but all he could do was turn his head and press a soft kiss against her crown.

Deep down, he was still pissed about what she’d done to get him here, but damned if he had the energy right now to get to the bottom of it. Later, he’d make her untie these restraints and give him some answers.

But for now, it felt too good to have her lying on top of him, covering him… trusting him again, at least for a short while.

When the phone rang at eight a.m., Grace Fisher groaned, rolled over, and stuffed her pillow over her head in an attempt to drown out the hideous jangle that ripped through her brain like a chainsaw. After a full sixty seconds, blessed silence reigned once more, but before she could sigh with relief, the ringing began again.

“Dammit,” she muttered, tossing the pillow aside and rolling in the other direction until she could grab the handset from the nightstand.

Contrary to popular belief, she was not always in a good mood and she most certainly did not wake up chipper. Especially not after a long Girls’ Night of eating, drinking, and making mischief.

Punching the talk button, she snapped, “What?”

“Please tell me we didn’t do what I think we did,” Ro

Grace rubbed her eyes and pushed into a sitting position, propping herself against the headboard while she struggled to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

“That depends. Did we scarf enough Mexican food to resurrect the Hindenburg and drink until we passed out?”

“We always do that,” Ro

For a minute, Grace nearly scoffed. What a ridiculous idea. Like anyone could abduct six-foot-three, two-hundred-plus-pound Gage Marshall, who loosely resembled a less green, less pissed-off Incredible Hulk.

But the more she thought about it, the more flashbacks started to spiral through her head.

Downing margaritas and enchiladas and laughing with her two closest friends.

Hugging Je

Crushing tiny white pills and spilling them into a bottle of beer.

Hiding outside in the shadows with Ro

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. Reality struck with the intensity of a lightning bolt, shocking her to the soles of her feet. She sat up, poker-straight, clutching the phone even tighter. “Oh, my God.”

“No kidding,” Ro



“Oh, my God,” Grace said again, because it was the only thing she could think of beyond an unending shriek of unadulterated panic.

“Welcome to my world. And if we’re freaking out, think what Je

At the reminder of their other friend, the one they’d left alone with the Incredible Hulk, Grace shot off the bed and began to pace.

“Oh. My. God. We have to get back there. We have to rescue her before Gage gets loose and kills her, then comes after us.”

Because though Je

“Let’s try calling her first,” Ro

Grace’s viewers all thought she had it so together. To them, she was a little Jackie O, a little Oprah, a little Martha Stewart, and maybe even a little Mother Theresa all rolled together.

Ha! She wondered how they would react when she was hauled away in shackles and a traffic-cone orange jumpsuit. And no belt, because the cops would worry she might commit suicide.

Rightfully so. She was thinking about going to the bathroom and drinking a bottle of drain cleaner right now just to save the state the expense of her trial and execution.

“What if the phone wakes him?” Grace asked. To her, that seemed a bit too much like poking a bear with a stick.

“We’ll call Je

“What if she doesn’t hear it?”

“That might mean Je

“Or maybe it will mean he broke free, went into a rage, and chopped her up into tiny pieces that he’s even now dropping to the bottom of a deep, dark well.”

“Nice visual, Little Miss Sunshine.” Ro

“Why do I have to call?” Grace yelped.

“Because this whole mess started with one of your brilliant ideas.” She drew “brilliant” into three or four syllables and made it sound like a dirty word.

Grace rolled her eyes. For the most part, her ideas were brilliant and did tend to work out.

So she’d had a bad night-sue her.

“Fine. I’ll call you back when I know something.”

After hanging up with Ro

She prayed Gage was still unconscious.

She prayed Je

Lifting her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the wide mirror above the bureau.

And she prayed the authorities wouldn’t come for her until she’d had a chance to fix her hair and makeup. She looked like something the cat had dragged in, then batted around for a few hours, and it wouldn’t do for her viewing public to see her hauled off to prison in such a sorry condition.