thud behind me, I figure he’s finally done it. I keep walking. Big bad guys get snarky if a woman tries to baby them. The thing is, I don’t hear him following me. There aren’t any curses or grumbles.
I swivel around and come face to face with Mr. Parker.
My heart freezes, breath stills in my lungs. “Joe —”
With a lightning fast move he puts something over my mouth, then gathers my wrists in one hand and binds them.
I blink.
Wha —
I’m not wearing handcuffs. No smooth metal wrapped around me. No, it’s something slim, like hard plastic, that’s keeping me captive. Next, he bends down and gives my ankles the same treatment. Brandon is sprawled unconscious two feet from me and it’s not until he’s got my ankles secure that things fall into place.
He’s kidnapping me.
I snort.
Awesome.
I hadn’t realized he was into the whole tying up thing, but I’m good with it. Sorta.
A sinister smile curls the corners of his lips. “You thought last night’s stunt would go unpunished? I don’t think so, Jess.”
Unpunished? So, this is some sort of actual punishment? Kidnapping, bondage? Really?
How delicious! A shiver of arousal courses through my veins.
I shift my attention to the unconscious Brandon and Mr. Parker seems to notice.
“Don’t worry. He’s just taking a little nap.”
“How?” My voice is muffled through the tape across my mouth, but he understands.
Mr. Parker cocks his head, stares at me, and my heart rate increases. I’m at his mercy. Whatever he wants, he can take and I can’t do a damn thing to stop him.
Fuck, yeah.
But Brandon is out. Gotta remember that. Not that I think Mr. Parker would kill the guy or anything. I don’t see any little tranquilizer darts sticking out of the guy. So, if he didn’t drug him, then what?
Mr. Parker doesn’t answer my unspoken question. Nope, he whisks me from the ground and tosses me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My face smacks his back and I squirm, squeal like a helpless infant.
“Where are you taking me?” Of course, that comes out as muffled gibberish.
He spanks the back of my leg, jeans softening the blow, and I groan in response, the sting mixing with the beginnings of my arousal.
He takes me, plain and simple, like a caveman drags his claimed woman to ravish her in private at his leisure, as tender or hard and rough as he desires. And there’s not a thing I can do about it. Not that I want to or anything.
I’ve fantasized about being kidnapped by a barbarian prince and forced to satisfy his perverse needs. This is close enough. Joseph Parker may not be Conan, wielding a broadsword and sweeping women off their feet, but he is my barbarian prince.
My heartbeat quickens, every cell of my being hums with shimmering anticipation. Thinking of the things he could do to me makes my panties damp, nipples harden and ache.
He carries me off the path, along a deer trail and into the heart of the woodlands. As time passes, first a minute and then a lot more, I get dizzy from being upturned for so long. The plastic ties he’s used chafe my skin.
Twenty minutes later, he reaches a secluded clearing surrounded by tall fir trees. He lowers me to the earth and I thump down onto a worn sheet. He’s a man with a plan, that’s for sure.
The world spins as blood returns to where it’s supposed to be and little cramps bother my limbs. I squirm, but he’s tied me well.
What’s strange is that the more helpless I am, the more turned on I become. The discovery intrigues me. Am I a kinkster at heart? I like a little spanking now and again, but it seems I like being tied and helpless as well.
I lay on my back and I look at my secret lover, waiting, anticipating. Triumph lines his features and he unsheathes a large hunting knife from his boot, twirls it around menacingly.
“I’m going to remove the tape, but only if you promise not to scream.”
Scream? Like, for help? Why would I? I couldn’t promise not to make a noise
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