Taken (5 page)

“Good girl.”

The moment he shoved his cock deep inside her cunt, she tossed her head back and whimpered, her nails digging into the back of the couch.

Taken.

She wanted nothing more.

Chapter Three

“Randolph. Do you have the preliminary report?”

Craze stood gazing out the window, dark and lurid thoughts remaining. He had no idea how he’d lost control. Taking the woman, fucking her and using her for God’s sake was insane. She was a stranger, a beautiful creature who didn’t deserve to be toyed with, fodder for his ridiculous needs. He rubbed his chin. He’d essentially raped Jess. He’d defended enough rape cases in his life to know what he was talking about.

“Hello. Earth to the fabulous Mr. Mitchell.”

The joking tone snagged him away from his anxious thoughts. “What?”

“Whew. Rough night?”

“It is Saturday. I don’t have to be in full work mode.”

“Right. Saturday, what’s that mean? My boss is a slave driver.” The tone was teasing.

He turned and eyed the only man he could call on to work the weekend without question and laughed. “Sorry, Mark. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Whatever it is, I hope she’s a leggy blond,” Mark said as he walked inside.

Leggy blond. Jess was much more. “You trying to fix me up, partner?”

“Someone needs to. I haven’t heard about a chick in your life for over ten months.”

Craze resisted lifting his middle finger. “Just thinking about the case.” He was thinking about everything else but the case. They hadn’t uttered a word to each other as he drove her back to her car. In fact, they hadn’t even been able to look at each other. He wanted to say he had no idea why the Neanderthal behavior had surfaced, but he knew. The darkness within him had been creeping into his life in confusing but very demanding ways. One thing he realized. He was losing control.

Every dream, every moment alone had given him increased needs.
Own.
He’d actually told her he owned her. What the hell the woman must be thinking. He’s ripped her blouse, shredded her panties. He was sweating, his cock damn hard just thinking about the need. He’d do every bit of it all over again. What did that make him?

“Right. Sure. I’ll buy the bullshit. Not. I know you too well, remember?” Mark laughed and dropped a folder on Craze’s desk. “However, we do have a lot of work ahead of us.”

“We merely have to supervise, keep track.”

“Oh come on. You know better. This case alone could put you on the fast track.” Mark folded his arms. “I assume that’s what you still want. At least you’ve been barking about your aspirations for months. I assumed you want political gain.”

Political gain. Right now he wanted nothing more than to hunt down Jess, take her back to the studio and beat her bloody. The thought was chilling. “Of course. That’s why we’re here today. Remember?”

“How could I forget? You dragged me here out of my beauty sleep to work on a gorgeous day.”

“Beauty sleep? That would take months to matter,” Craze chided. His nerves were on edge and while he should condemn his behavior, try and find Jess and apologize, he wouldn’t, because both he and Jess were cut from the same cloth. She’d enjoyed the session as much as he had. However, he would find her somehow. She was in his blood, fueling his intense needs.

“Such a fucking comedian. What do you think about our dear Mr. Martin?”

“What do I think?” Craze fingered the folder. Mark was correct. The outcome of this case could help advance his career or tank it in a heartbeat.

“From what I can tell, this is going to be a ballbuster, but I have to tell you, his connections are rock solid.”

Craze nodded. “Then we have to be ready and I could care less about his connections. We have two weeks until the start of the trial. Let’s roll up our sleeves and get to work.”

“Good deal. I have a golf game this afternoon so I’d like to be done by one?” Mark grinned.

“You have a woman or two to fuck. Who are you kidding?” Craze grinned.

He burst into laughter. “You’re right. I’ll grab some coffee and we can get started.”

“Grab me a cup too.” When Mark walked out of the room, he turned back toward the window, palming the glass. He hadn’t even asked for her number. How could he? They weren’t dating. They weren’t a couple. They’d fucked. He’d whipped her until her ass was red. He’d seen the bruises, the crisscrossing welts. He’d seen and heard her tears, those of confusion, pain as well as need.

“Shit.” Craze fisted his mouth and studied the street below, every nerve standing on end. Whatever had possessed him, allowing his ridiculous behavior, wasn’t shocking, merely telling. He’d found the one.

Vile thoughts rushed through the back of his mind, those of tying her down, clamping her nipples, her cunt lips. He fingered his belt, the very belt he’d used the night before, remembering the way she moaned. Visions of burning her, flogging her entire body raw filtered into his very soul. He closed his eyes and groaned. His body tingled. His heart raced. What the hell was he doing?

Fucking her. Using her. Owning her. Making Jess your whore…

The words repeated over and over again in his mind, making his cock ache. He wanted nothing more. This wasn’t the response or needs of a sane man. He had to be out of his freaking mind. He had to be sick. All his life he’d known something was missing. Every relationship had been flawed. Not once had he fallen in love, although he’d pretended often enough. This woman, this wild and vivacious stranger had captured his very soul. The beautiful blond with the wicked smile, voluptuous body and intense need to submit had driven the dark man from hibernation.

“Fuck!”

“There is no chance of keeping Mr. Martin out of prison. None. I knew that.” Mark laughed. “But I don’t think you need to get that upset about it. The guy’s a murderer. He deserves to fry in hell for slicing and dicing beautiful women.”

“Remember innocent until proven guilty?” Craze gave him a look.

“Unless the dude has some air tight alibies, there’s nothing that will help him.”

Craze had been kept abreast of the arrest, the horrors surrounding the slaughters. There was no way to prevent becoming jaded. He prayed to God the asshole would be put away for a hell of a long time. Something he wasn’t able to admit. “If the case is solid, no.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because the entire situation is going to turn into a media circus. Because we have to uphold the law, make certain no corners are cut. Because this could make or break my professional career, no matter what aspirations I might have.”

“There’s the tiger I know and love,” Mark chortled. “I think we need to start from square one. I have everything on Mr. Martin’s accusers as well as his supposed alibies. I will also find out every bit of information on the prosecuting attorney.”

“Meaning?”

“You need to know what you’re up against.”

“This isn’t a war.” Craze grabbed his own cup of coffee, taking a sip. Now cold, the bitter brew didn’t settle well. He was antsy, his insane needs remaining at the very surface. He had to take her again soon or he’d go mad.

“I beg to differ my friend. This is very much a war. We just have to figure out which side we’re on.”

The thought was chilling. “Fine. Give me the details. Find out everything you can about all parties involved. I don’t like surprises.” As he sat down in his chair, his lurid thoughts lingered. He was going to find her. Period.

****

Jess rolled over in bed, hearing the special ring for the third time. Groaning, she shifted and slapped her hand on her nightstand, finally grabbing her phone after the third try. “Hello Miranda, and no, I didn’t forget brunch.”

“I tried to call you yesterday ‘cause I knew you’d forget,” Miranda huffed.

“I was busy. I was working on my case. Remember?” She’d spent hours on Saturday, sequestered over her computer files, trying to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together, making little headway. The sad truth was she hadn’t been able to concentrate.
Craze.
Every thought shifted to the man, the night, and her aching ass. “Since when do I forget things?”

“Right. Since forever. Well, you have a date with me. You don’t show up, I know where you live.”

Miranda’s laugh was jovial. “Fine. I’m getting ready right now.”

“Good. We have champagne to drink. A celebration is in order.”

“You want to tell me why we’re celebrating?”

“Nope. You have to make our date. Then I might tell you. Might being the operative word.”

Jess chuckled. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Good. Wear something festive.”

Hanging up the phone she threw back her sheets. She was wet, flushed and her pussy ached. His cock was… “Whew.” Rubbing her tired eyes, she placed her feet onto the floor and sat up. For a few seconds she could swear his very scent was lingering, covering her skin. She was quivering all over. She’d remained in a highly sensitive state ever since he’d brought her back to her car, wearing his tee shirt and little else.

Why hadn’t she gotten his number?
Because you had a one night stand.
Yeah, a very delicious one night stand with an absolute stranger.
With no condom. With no forethought.

Yep. She was certifiable, but she wanted more.

She slapped her hand on top of her bed and rose to her feet. Unable to resist, she rubbed her ass. The burn remained. When she walked into the bathroom, her eyes were drawn to the royal blue shirt she’d gingerly placed over her hamper. She reached out, snagging the soft cotton. Sniffing, even though his shirt was clean, his intense scent lingered. Another shiver trickled down her back.

As carefully folded the shirt she eyed her reflection and couldn’t help but smile. She looked positively radiant.

The shower felt wonderful. Every inch of her skin tingled. She rubbed her ass and smiled, able to feel her welts on the pads of her fingers. Leaning against the cool tile, she closed her eyes, envisioning the amazing night. Even in the stream of hot water she shivered, her nipples standing at full attention. She smiled, thinking about the belt, his rough hands, and the night of intense passion. Then again, passion wasn’t the right word. He’d fucked every hole, delighting in shoving his cock in her asshole more than once.

Exhaling, she rubbed her hand down from her neck, pinching her right nipple. She looked down. His bite mark remained, a yellowish glow remaining on her skin. No man had ever taken her so savagely.

As the water streamed over her shoulders and down her back, she shifted her hand down to her pussy. Her cunt lips were sensitive even to her touch. She envisioned his face as she swirled her finger around her clit then remembered his intense words.

You aren’t allowed to come unless I tell you.

The man was all powerful, very controlling. She repeated the move. Coming was something she hadn’t experienced in months.
Until Friday night.
Even with the sex so rough, she’d come several times. The thought left her panting, hungry. She groaned and removed her hand, sliding under the showerhead. She was already obeying him, a stranger. She laughed until she doubled over coughing.

Jess stood in front of her closet, glaring at her clothes.
Wear something festive.
She hadn’t worn anything but basic blue and gray in so long, she wasn’t entirely certain she remembered what she owned that could be considered festive. She filtered through her boring day clothes, snagging a red dress she wore only for special occasions. Hmmm…

When she pulled out the rather slinky piece, she grinned. This was perfect. She tossed the dress onto the bed and walked toward her dresser. She had to find the perfect panties, matching bra. Spectacular underwear was the one treat she allowed herself as far as clothing. No one needed to know she was a minx in disguise.

Red. Of course. Today she was a naughty vixen. The thought stimulating, she slipped into her attire and stood staring at her reflection. The dress hugged every curve, accentuating her full breasts and hips… “Ugh.” Wide hips. She hated her body yet Craze loved every inch, biting and nipping her flesh as if he wanted to consume.

Lowering her head, she thought about his demeanor, the interesting location he’d taken her. There was no doubt in her mind Craze had many sides. All of them she wanted to know, longed to serve. “Whoa.” Another quick look at her reflection and she was surprised how bright her eyes seemed.
Serve.
The word alone was illicit, dazzling. She started to turn away. “You want him. No matter the reason, you do.”

Thirty minutes later she walked inside the bustling restaurant. The bistro was a hot spot for folks who wanted a delicious breakfast, as well as a fashionable cocktail or three. Scanning the crowded space, she finally located Miranda sitting at a table near the corner, a floor to ceiling window enabling a fabulous vision of the streetscape.

Jess smoothed down her dress and walked forward, cognizant of the admiring looks being shot her way. She wasn’t flashy, at least in her vanilla life. Her profession required anonymity, conservative methods. Shit. She loathed wearing the mask Craze had so aptly figured out. She held her head hide, was careful not to fall on her face, and made her way to the table.

Miranda squinted as she approached, her jaw dropping. A smile broke out on her face. “Holy hell, woman. You look hot? Have a date after our little brunch?”

“No. You said wear something festive. Remember?” Jess mused as she slid onto the seat. The heated gazes from men surrounding them remained. She felt vindicated, alive. Noticing the champagne bottle with two tall crystal stems, she leaned over the table. “You better fess up quick or else.”

Miranda grabbed the bottle, pouring a full glass for Jess and topping her own. “Fess up, huh? Only if you tell me the truth why you’re wearing a sexy dress and ‘fuck me’ pumps.”

Jess sighed and wrapped her hand around the glass. “There’s no particular reason. I just wanted to break out of my shell.”

“Uh-huh. You can’t lie to me, remember?” Winking, Miranda lifted her glass. “Well, since you’re going to be elusive, I guess I get to start the party.”