A Captive Situation (Kings of New York)

Oh my god!

There was a man in my closet.

I opened my mouth to scream. He got to me first, his hand clamping over my mouth, and he jerked us around so I was pushed up against the wall. From the movement, we went fast, but he wrapped his other arm around my neck to cushion the impact. My head didn’t smash up against the wall, but his body pinned me in place.

That’s when rational thinking returned, and I sagged in relief because it was only Jake.

My eyes went wide.

Only. Jake.

I tensed all over again. Jake found me!

He had been waiting, his head cocked, his eyes narrowed. “Are you going to scream?”

I bit down on the inside of his hand, and when he barely reacted, I growled, shoving him off me. “Asshole.”

Holy. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart pumping like crazy. It needed to slow down.

Jake moved back another step, folding his arms as he watched me try to calm myself down from a fucking panic attack. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Surprised to see me?”

I glared at him, panting. “If I knew fifty different languages, I’d be cursing you in all of them. What were you thinking? Hiding in my closet! It’s the first place someone hides.”

“You’d rather I hid under your bed?”

“Maybe,” I growled back. “Then I could’ve jumped real hard on the mattress and hopefully squashed you.”

His eyes flashed, getting hard, and he was in my space once again. I was pushed back to the wall, and he was leaning over me.

I wanted to shove him back, but I figured if I touched him, he’d grab my arms and pull some twisty half-ninja move and somehow I’d just regret it. I huffed, my shoulders slumping down.

“Why did you open the closet door if you were going to be scared by someone being in there?”

“Because I didn’t think it was true! I didn’t really think someone was in my closet. Just like when you’re a kid, you’re pretty sure there isn’t a monster under your bed so you get up and turn the light on, and then look. And they’re never there. Same thought process. But you were in there! I just lost five years of my life.” I raised my hands, only to press against his chest, and they stayed there.

Fuck.

He was so warm.

And strong.

And solid.

And not a killer waiting to slit my throat. Or I didn’t think.

I eyed him. “Are you going to kidnap me again?”

His gaze turned fierce and he leaned in again. “Princess—”

I gulped. “Don’t call me that.”

“Lunatic,” he clipped out.

I huffed. “That’s better.”

His hand slid around to the back of my neck, cupping me. He angled my head up to his, and closed the distance between us, his chest pressing to mine. “If you ever think a killer is in your closet, you run, you scream, or you get me. I’d prefer you run and scream first.”

Oh, god.

Also, he wasn’t answering my question.

I drew in some air, and my chest rose against his.

He felt so good there.

His power, his strength, that I knew he would and could kill, that he was here. A part of me relaxed, knowing I was safe, and I hated registering that part of me. Because I had to admit that the same part of me had been on edge, knowing I was away from him, fearing for my life and my family’s.

I was in such trouble.

I half muttered, freaking out more that a part of me trusted him, “And if you’re not available?”

His hand tightened on me as he leaned down until there was an inch separating our lips. He drawled, “If you can’t run. If you can’t scream. If I’m not available, and you have to open that door, you get a gun. You hear me?”

My heart skipped a beat.

He was against me, every inch of him.

I felt a bulge between my legs, and my body was remembering the last time we’d been in the same room. The feel of his fingers pumping inside of me, and the need to feel the rest of him filling me up.

Arousal began spreading through me, making my breathing grow more shallow. My pulse sped up. My mouth started salivating.

“Gun,” I croaked. “Got it.”

I eyed him, tension edging in.

He saw the switch and angled his head back so he could see me better. His mouth went flat. “What?”

Another part of me twisted because if my body was already trusting that it was him, that he made me feel safe, then that meant the kidnapping had been what he actually said. I was still muddled up, but I whispered, “You really did kidnap me for my safety, didn’t you?”

His eyes and mouth immediately softened. He brushed a hand over my forehead in a gentle graze. “Yeah, babe.”

Babe.

My heart fluttered. That felt right.

Oh, boy. I was in so much trouble here.

“You were hoping you’d imagined the whole thing?”

The final ring of truth from him was the final nail in my coffin. God. It was all true. Tears immediately came to my eyes, with terror swiftly behind them. Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, gooooood. My family. I had called my cousin. My aunts. They were all here and so was I.

“Hey, hey.” Jake pulled me away from the wall, going to the bed, and he tugged me onto his lap. “Hey.” He caught my face, tilting up my chin so I was looking directly at him. He said, firmly, “Stop.”

I did. I stopped thinking. I stopped feeling.

In that break, he cupped both sides of my face, his thumbs rubbing under my ears on my neck. “I fucked up here. I’m sorry I took you in the way I did in the first place, and I’m sorry for locking you in the room. I—that’s on me.”noveldrama

I closed my eyes, my heart squeezing. Jesus. It was all true. Resting my head against his, I breathed out, in a whimper, “My family is here. They’re like moms to me. I just met Graham, and he’s the sweetest. Oliver too.”

His hand moved to my leg, and he pulled me tighter against him, making me brush over his bulge. His hand tightened on my leg, but he said in a low voice back, “I know. I won’t let anything happen to them.”

I wanted to believe him. I did, but the truth was more terrifying than the other option that he was just a regular run-of-the-mill kidnapper. “You can’t promise that.”

He tilted his head back, so I raised mine.

We shared a look.

His eyes flashed. A momentary glimpse of regret showed before they softened again. He moved me over his bulge again. “I’ll fucking try my best. How does that sound, my little lunatic?”

I really liked hearing that, and he grinned at me, lazily, as he felt my body’s reaction.

He drawled once more, “You like that name, huh?” His eyes grew determined and his head began to bend down to mine. “Is it the name Lunatic or that I called you my little lunatic? Which one was it?” He spread his hand on my neck, his thumb resting over my carotid.

I began panting, my hips rolling over him, pressing down over his dick. “It was the last.” I grinned, peeking at him from underneath heavy eyelids. “Though, I liked when you called me Lunatic too.”

He grunted, his gaze becoming molten, but he continued to guide me over him.

Back and forth.

I shifted on his lap, straddling him, and I began pressing down at the same time.

He was starting to breathe hard, and groaned. “Fuck. This isn’t a good idea.”

I looked at him, waiting to see what was going to happen next because he was back with me, and his hands were on me, and my pussy was throbbing, and while I hated how he left me the last time, a deep part of me was choosing to bring that battle up later.

Because that same deep part of me wanted this to happen, this being him and me, and as a primal hunger rose up in me, that’s when my brain decided to stop thinking.

His mouth slammed down on mine.