Perfect Stranger (16 page)

Chloe cried out, rocking herself against his
touch.

"You're so wet," he said, thrusting his
fingers deeply.

She moaned, moving herself against him
urgently. "I need you, Jericho." She pleaded in a whisper.
"Please."

He removed his hands, slipping his fingers
from the cleft of her sex, over her ass, teasing like a feather as
he skimmed up her spine. Chloe shivered, arching. Jericho gathered
her wrists, pulling her arms taut above her head, pinning her
wrists to the bed with one hand. Feeling trapped beneath him
delighted Chloe. His size completely dominated her, his knees on
each side of her legs. He pressed his cock against her slick folds,
rubbing the head of his shaft against her slowly. "You need me
here?" he asked sensually.

Chloe gasped and thrust her hips back into
him, forcing him inside her. She cried out at the feel of him
stretching her. A wave of pleasure hit her hard, and she arched
into him even more, succeeding in only taking a little of him.

Jericho's head fell back, and he groaned. He
moved against her, pushing himself the rest of the way inside her
in a single, long thrust. He hissed at the pleasure her body gave
him.

As Chloe cried out in pure ecstasy again,
his thrusts turned harder and more urgent. His breathing was harsh
against her ear. Jericho unleashed himself upon her. He filled her
completely, his cock hard as granite. He was a man unleashed as he
drove into her again and again, losing himself.

Chloe came once more as he glided in and
out. She couldn’t remember ever having experienced this amount of
pleasure before.

His hand slipped under her to close around
her breast and the other down to flick over the damp petals between
her legs as he thrust into her hard. Jericho's head fell back, his
teeth clenched hard. Chloe cried out as she instantly climaxed at
his touch, and Jericho thrust into her, hard, shuddering against
her, burying himself deep. Stars danced around behind her eyes in
the aftermath of their love-play that still swirled her mind.

She felt him flex inside her, the hotness of
his seed spilling into her.

They lay there for a long
moment before Jericho removed himself and rolled to his side,
pulling Chloe off the pillows and into him. He kissed the back of
her hair and then pushed the dark strands aside to kiss her neck
and shoulder. "I didn't
hurt
you, did I?" he asked in a murmur.

Chloe scoffed. "No," she whispered. She
turned over to smile at him, and he kissed her gently. "Did I sound
as though you'd hurt me?" She laughed gently and turned back in
contentment, closing her fingers around the thick arms holding her.
Absently, she began to trail a finger over the tattoo on the
underside of his arm and smiled to herself.

She lay there a long while, listening to
their breathing slow, and somewhere in the back of her mind she
realized she had never felt passion with her ex, or anyone for that
matter. Not like she had with Jericho. She couldn't compare one
single moment with what she had just experienced.

She had never been in love with her ex,
either.

She repeated that thought giddily over and
over in her mind. She was free of the pain he had brought. He
hadn’t destroyed her!

When she came to Rio, she had been lost. She
had felt entirely worthless. But then, a stranger had jumped onto
the hood of her car and turned her life upside down.

Jericho brushed his knuckles up over her arm
and back down, trailing all the way to her knee. The caress sent
tingles dancing throughout her body.

And Jericho?

Chloe ran her fingers over his arm,
returning his caress.

What was Jericho to her? Was there more here
between them than she thought? Could there be? Or dare she even
think such things?

She had just given herself to this man as
much as any woman could. Was she crazy not to know the answer to
that question? They were adults who had participated in an adult
act, but she considered herself a woman of good morals who didn’t
fall into bed with any man who kissed her.

However, Jericho wasn’t
just
any
man, was
he?

No, she well imagined any woman would have
had a hard time resisting and would have found herself doing
exactly what she had just done.

The thought sparked an odd twinge of
jealousy, even though he had told her his last relationship was a
long time ago. Still, a pinch of heat blossomed on her cheeks.

Before she had more time to consider that
fully, Jericho rose behind her on an elbow, kissing her shoulder
and then her breast. "Not to ruin the moment, but we should get
dressed. Don’t want any hostiles coming upon us like this," he
said, his voice deep and sensual.

Chloe giggled and turned her head to press
her lips to his, then slung her legs over the edge of the bed and
stalked, naked, to her strewn clothing. Jericho gave her bottom a
slap as he passed in search of his own clothes. She smiled, turning
a little circle in search of her thong, but suddenly her panties
shot at her from across the room and hit her in the chest.

She gasped in a laugh and caught the wad of
orange before the thong fell. Chloe lifted the thong and frowned as
she turned for the bathroom. She quickly washed the garment by hand
and tossed the thong over the side of the tub to dry. When she
returned for her pants, Chloe caught a sizzling look. Jericho
paused to watch her as she crossed the room, and his look of
intense lust made her melt for him all over again. Heat spiraled to
her core.

Jericho forcibly jerked his attention back
to his clothing. He had tossed his shirt over his shoulder as he
stepped into his pants and pulled them on. He then thrust his shirt
over his head, pulling it in place.

Chloe fiddled with her bra
and struggled into her boy’s t-shirt, and as Jericho strapped on
his leg holster, she bent to put on her hiking boots. This
particular pair of shoes had only been brought because she hadn’t
repacked her luggage after disaster struck—she'd only packed them
in the first place in hopes she could have talked her ex into a
hike, all the while knowing he probably wouldn’t want to.
He
would have preferred
a tour bus, the markets, or maybe the beach. He never would have
ventured into anything considered daring.

As Chloe pulled the laces
tight and looped them, it struck her then that her honeymoon in Rio
would have been particularly boring had everything lined up as it
once “should have”, and boring, too, would have been her life in
general had married
him
.

She was not certain, but she was pretty
sure, not many girls got to live an exciting fantasy with a
handsome stranger in the jungle, even if they were running for
their lives.

She smiled at the sensation of Jericho's
hand on her shoulder, and she stood, turning to wrap her arms
around his neck. He planted his hands on her hips, then slid them
around to give her butt a squeeze as he dipped his mouth to
hers.

Chloe's tongue tangled with his, and the
kiss sparked a new wave of desire for them both, but before they
were tempted to strip down again, Jericho gave her bottom one last
feel as he pulled back. He fixed such a hot, possessive stare on
her then, that Chloe felt a zap run from her heart all the way to
her toes.

No other man had ever given her such a look.
But then, she had never met a man quite like Jericho.

There were so many things left unsaid
between them. Things they should have said before they had fallen
into that bed. But, too, those things felt alien. Jericho was still
a stranger to her in many ways. They hardly knew anything about
each other. Yet, somehow, she felt as though they were deeply
connected.

He reached up to push a strand of her loose
hair behind her ear, and Chloe thought he was about to say
something, but stopped himself and looked away, frowning.

Jericho cleared his throat. "Let's get some
rest. We're going to need it." He went back to retrieve his gun
where it had spilled from his holster and onto the floor during
their undressing. He pulled the magazine to check the rounds as he
crossed the room.

Chloe followed him to the bed and climbed in
first, nestling herself into him when he joined her. He reached to
deposit the gun on the nightstand, but as he settled back, Chloe
snuggled closer to lay her head on his chest, listening to his
heartbeat.

Contentedly exhausted, she
relaxed. Chloe was just slipping into exhausted slumber when she
heard a loud pop
outside, and her eyes
flew open. Jericho jerked beside her and rushed from the bed,
grabbing up his weapon and cocking it. He started toward the
window, but just as quickly, as bullets penetrated the room from
the outside, breaking the window, Jericho rushed back. Chloe
screamed, and he dove to her, pulling her onto the floor and
covering her with his body.

She screamed more, trying to throw him off.
She could not allow him to do this, to shield her with his life.
She screamed, "No," over and over, but Jericho held her down.

The gunfire ceased a few moments later, but
Chloe's heart continued to hammer.

"Are you okay?" she cried.

"I'm fine. You—" Jericho began to ask,
lifting off her.

Chloe didn’t have the chance to answer. Both
of them jerked up, going to their knees in front of the bed as the
door to their room was kicked in.

Chloe screamed again, clutching for Jericho.
He already had his gun in hand, aiming, but he was faced with
several muzzles pointing at them, little red dots spotlighted on
them.

"You have no chance. If you want the woman
to live, put down the gun," one of them said.

Jericho raised his hands, letting the gun
swing down on his finger. He slowly, readily, set the weapon aside
all the while keeping his gaze steady on the intruders.

"Raise your hands, Chloe," Jericho said
quietly.

She recoiled, jerking her stare to him.
"No," she cried. "Jericho!"

"Just do it," he hissed.

Chloe reluctantly lifted her hands, already
knowing full well what was coming. She tried to force down the
racking sobs, but tears still streamed hotly down her cheeks.

"Remember," Jericho said quietly, turning
his gaze on her "if we're alive, there's still a chance."

Chloe panicked as a man let his weapon fall
slack on its strap around his shoulder and started toward them. Two
more followed. Her hands trembled above her head, and she choked on
sobs.

"I
will
save you," Jericho
said.

Chloe looked back to him briefly to catch
the promise in his eyes before she cried out. The man came for her
first, and she fell back to kick at him before he grabbed her, and
a black bag was pulled over her face as he hauled her up, twisting
her arms behind her back. She screamed as a zip-tie closed around
her wrists.

"Chloe, just do what they say," Jericho
yelled. "Don't fight—" There was a loud crack, as if something had
struck him. She heard the weight of his body roll to the floor by
her feet.

Chloe gasped. Then something hard hit her
temple, and she faded into the haze.

Chapter Fifteen

0430 hours, Wednesday

Unknown location in Brazil

Jericho's head lolled to
the side, against his arm, as the fog hazing over his mind began to
lift. He
felt
before he saw. His hands were bound and stretched above his
head. He was half-standing, half-hanging. He tried to put his
weight on his feet, using his bonds to steady himself, but a stab
of pain sliced through him. His limbs tingled as though circulation
had been cut off for some time. He took a moment to adjust, shaking
away the lightheadedness.

He had no idea how long he had been
unconscious.

Blood dripped down the side of his face from
his temple, trickling to his neck, and his ribs felt intensely
sore, as though he had taken a heavy fall. There was a gag in his
mouth and thick tape over his lips.

Jericho focused.

The room was dank. He twisted the toe of his
boot on the flooring. They were on concrete. Maybe in a warehouse
or an industrial building. They weren’t in the small village
anymore, he guessed.

Jericho perked up at a
tiny noise in the center of the room. The muffled sob was
approximately twelve feet away.
Chloe
? He tried to open his eyes,
but all he could see was the black bag over his face and a little
light through the thick fibers.

The memory of their capture washed over him
then.

He exhaled hard from his nose, infuriated at
having been taken. But what choice had he had? He had no doubt they
would have killed them both that instant if he had not laid down
his weapon. Like he'd told Chloe, if they were still alive, there
was still a chance.

He had to get to her. He had to get them out
of this mess.

He had a promise to uphold to her, and a
duty to his men.

Fury racked Jericho.

With every second that
passed, their time dwindled. He couldn’t imagine why the
hostiles
hadn’t
killed them already and had them done with, especially after
all the trouble they had caused these sons of bitches.

Jericho pulled at the bonds on his wrists,
testing their strength. A chain rattled high above. There was rope
around his hands, but a chain attached, probably by a hook, and
judging by the clank that sounded at the top, the chain ran up to
the ceiling or a beam some twenty feet overhead.

Jericho tried to call Chloe's name against
his gag, but his voice came out in a rough mumble. Another tiny
sound came in answer, and his heart thudded. Relief flooded him
that she had not been killed, nor had they been separated. Not wise
on the enemy's part, but a plus for Chloe and himself.