Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Five

Her words sent a shiver racing down his spine.

Fuck, this was better than his fantasies in the joint. She slithered up his body so smoothly he hardly knew what hit him, and everything about her screamed female. His senses, already attuned to her, leapt to life and screamed at him to take her, roll her over and thrust into her body with every last bit of his strength.

Instead he stilled himself, allowing her the freedom to continue her exploration. He’d been dreaming about this moment for years. He wanted to savor her, like he’d savor a fine whiskey.

He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up her arms, though. He could feel the fine strength in her. These were the arms of a woman who worked out, who kept herself in good shape. He couldn’t help but admire that about her. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them softly, flicking the nipples with his fingers. They perked up, and he looked into her eyes to see surprise there.

Apparently she wasn’t used to being attracted to her clients. He felt a moment of smug satisfaction. He’d gotten through to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

She leaned forward, resting her weight against his hands. She straddled him, one knee resting on either side of his upper thighs, and the soft flesh of her belly brushed the head of his cock.

“Touch me there,” he commanded, and she gave a low laugh. The kind of laugh only a woman in control could give. For a second he wondered if he should be concerned, but he wiped the thought away. He controlled her, whatever she might think. That was the way it would be between them.

She pulled back, and took one of his hands in each of her own.

“Put these down,” she said, giving him a sly smile. “I don’t like to work on someone unless they’re totally still.”

“That must be kind of hard sometimes,” he replied softly. “Do all your clients do what you say?”

“If they want me to keep them as clients,” she said lightly. “I’m very picky about who I’ll work on.”

He rolled his eyes, but let his hands fall back as she asked. He had plenty of time to play with her.

Apparently she had some kind of kinky specialty; he might as well take advantage of it.

“Do your worst,” he said, closing his eyes. An image of her strong, slender hands wrapped around his throat drifted through his mind. He shook his head, willing the image away. She didn’t have half his strength; he could easily defend himself. After all, where was she going to run? They were on a plane, and there was no escape from his friends up front.

Her fingers came to rest on his chest, digging into the muscles. He tried to think back to the last time he’d been touched like this. There had been that whore two nights before he’d been caught, but she didn’t have this woman’s talent. She was definitely higher class than the average call girl. Although what was up with her clothing? He’d never seen a hooker dressed like that before…

Her fingers made their way down his chest, coming ever closer to his stomach and the jutting length of his erection. Every touch, every gentle nudge, brought him a little closer to the edge. Each time, though, she seemed to back off. Why was she so bound and determined to hold him back?

She gripped the tops of his thighs and started sliding down and away from him. This was too much.

“Enough,” he said, his voice harsh with need. He sat up abruptly, reaching down and pulling her across his body. “Enough of this teasing, I want to fuck. You can stay on top or be on the bottom, I don’t care.”

She stilled, and for a moment her expression clouded. He almost wondered if she was going to say something, but then a strange, strained smile stole across her face.

“I’ll stay on top,” she said, her voice soft and thready. “I’d really rather be on top.”

“Fine,” he said, and pulled her hard against his chest. He fell back across the bed, grasping her head firmly in his hands. He pulled her close for a kiss, hands gripping her face so she couldn’t escape, and then his mouth took hers.

She tasted sweet. Her mouth was soft, too soft for a whore. No woman should taste like that unless she was meant for just one man, he thought almost angrily. He pushed his tongue into her mouth forcefully, wanting to wipe that taste of innocence away. She was too sweet, too nice to touch. It wasn’t right.

She sank into his kiss, and before he realized what he was doing he’d rolled her under him. His legs thrust between hers, spreading them apart. Still kissing her deeply, he drove into her, amazed at how tight she was. She gasped into his mouth, and her entire body stiffened around his. He’d hurt her, had pushed in too fast. He pulled away from the kiss, burying his head in her hair and breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s been so long. You have no idea how good you feel.”

He felt her flex her muscles around him experimentally and groaned. How was he supposed hold back when she felt like that?

“If you keep doing that I won’t be able to control myself.”

She stilled, and he took several deep, harsh breaths. Blood roared in his ears, and Sean fought to slow the pounding of his heart, fought to control the need to take her. An eternity passed, then he took control again.

He pulled back, sliding out of her with a slick wetness that belied her tension. However tight she might be, she still wanted him. Her juices were flowing thick. He slowly pushed back in. It was easier this time.

Following his instincts, he tilted his hips back and pulled out once more. This time he could feel himself rub against her clit as he slid home. She moaned, deep and low, and he did it again. Within moments her arms came up around him, and he felt her hips lift to meet his. He smiled into her hair, feeling pleased for some strange reason. Pro or not, she was definitely enjoying this.

He moved faster, taking deep, long breaths each time, pacing himself as he listened to her breathing. She gasped with every thrust, and he felt her legs come up around his hips to clench him close. That was more like it.

Faster and faster he moved, the pressure building up inside his body with each thrust. It was so much better than he’d remembered, this falling into a woman’s warm body. He had to stop several times to regain his control.

She was slick and hot now. There could be no doubt how much she wanted him. With a smile of satisfaction, he slid in and out of her body with new purpose. He was going to come soon, and he wanted her to come with him. As his flesh slapped against hers, he could feel her release start to overcome her. He moaned as little twinges deep in her body danced along his length and. She started to curl up into him as if her life depended on his touch.

Then it hit her.

Her entire body went tense as her vaginal muscles gripped him with such force that it should have been painful; instead it was amazing and wonderful. He thrust again, forcing his cock past the rigid layers of muscle, each delicious touch tantalizing and torturing until he reached his limit. Sean exploded into her body.

He grunted, and his hips spasmed violently as he shot his seed. All thought ceased as pleasure rushed through him and he squeezed her until she cried out in protest. Slowly he came down, taking in deep breaths and collapsing on to her body. He felt something pushing at him, and he realized it was her hands.

Why was she pushing him away?

Sean rolled off her and she turned away from him quickly. Her shoulders shuddered, and he realized she was crying. What the hell? He touched her back hesitantly, suddenly out of his realm. He liked whores because they didn’t cry. Or if they did, he dismissed them. What was going on here?

She shook her head as he rubbed her shoulder, then she sat up, wiping the tears away from her face. Her skin was blotchy and her nose ran. Not pretty crying, certainly not done for effect. He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off with one raised hand. He bit back his question, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Can we please just get some rest?” she asked softly, wiping the back of her hand across her face once more.

He nodded his head hesitantly, utterly confused. She rolled into a small ball facing away from him, pulling up the silken sheets to her chin. Sean watched her for another moment in puzzled silence, then turned away and rolled off the bed. They had a long flight ahead of them, maybe she was right. Sleep would be good. He was far more relaxed now than he’d been in months. Safer, too.

He walked across the room, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of the plush carpet between his toes.

Casually he flicked off the dim emergency lights and then returned to the bed. He hadn’t lost his sense of direction in prison, he noted wryly. If anything he was even more attuned to moving without being seen after spending five years in shared cells.

He made it back to the bed and crawled in. Her crying had died down, leaving only the occasional muffled hiccup in its wake. Definitely not crying to get attention.

He lay there in the darkness for what seemed like hours until she fell asleep. Then he curled himself around her, pulling her into the circle of his arms, and letting his head rest against the soft mass of her hair.

Damn, she smelled good. His cock stirred in interest, but he stayed still.

There would be plenty of time to play with her more when the arrived in San Beneficio. Hopefully she’d stop crying, too.

Sandra came awake slowly, unsure of where she was. The bed was soft and comfortable, but there was a strange humming noise all around her. The floor dropped, then came back up beneath her, and she realized she must be on a plane.

But what kind of plane had a bed?

A soft snore drifted into her consciousness, and startling her awake. She wasn’t alone. Memories of the night before filled her mind. She looked around the room, startled that it could be real. Where was she, and how could she escape?

She turned to look at the big man sleeping beside her. His long, dark hair spilled across the pillow, hiding his face from her. She shifted, feeling sticky between her thighs.

Shit.

She’d had sex with him and they hadn’t used any protection. Visions of HIV filled her head, followed by the thought of a black haired baby. Or worse yet, a black-haired baby with HIV.

She clutched one hand to her stomach and moaned in horror. How had this happened to her?

He shifted and she stilled. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up. The longer he slept, the happier she’d be. Moving carefully so as not to disturb the bed, she slid out from between the sheets and walked back toward the tiny bathroom. Dark humor pierced her cloud of unhappiness as she noted that even rich people had to make due with small bathrooms on airplanes. Still, it was a very expensive plane.

She had no doubt that her mysterious captor and his friends had money.

She stepped into the tiny shower and cleaned herself quickly, trying to rub herself free of the residue of his touch. She scrubbed extra hard at her breasts and between her legs, punishing her traitorous flesh for enjoying his attentions so much. When she’d decided to martyr her virtue to stay alive, she hadn’t counted on enjoying it. Sean was definitely the best lover she’d ever had, and she didn’t like that one bit.

It wasn’t fair.

Life is not fair, Sandra reminded herself as she stepped out of the shower. She pulled out a plush towel out of a cupboard and dried herself off, noticing a stack of thick terrycloth bathrobes above the towels.

Just what she needed. Concealing, comfortable, and utterly unsexy.

She pulled on the robe and walked back out into the bedroom. It was light outside, but the shades drawn over the windows kept things dim. She stood for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Before she could see anything, he spoke.

“Feeling better?” he asked slowly, and the sound sent a tingle rushing down her spine. Sternly she reminded herself he was the bad guy. Bad guys shouldn’t have voices like that—it wasn’t fair.

“Yes, thank you,” she said. As her eyes adjusted she made her way over to a chair, then sat down in it as demurely as possible.

He leaned forward in the bed, covers falling to his waist, and she made herself look away.

“You want to come back to bed?” he asked. “We’ve still got a while before we land, and I could use another roll.”

She closed her eyes against the surge of longing his words lit in her. This wasn’t right.

“Do I have to?” she asked bluntly. He looked startled.

“Why should you care?” he asked. “You’ll get paid, I already promised you that. I guess my promises don’t mean very much to you, do they?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll do what it takes to survive,” she said slowly. “But I’m concerned about health and safety. We didn’t use protection last night. Do you realize that I could already be pregnant? Not to mention AIDS.”

He froze, peering at her closely through the darkness.

“You aren’t on the pill?” he asked quickly. “I don’t have AIDS, so I’m not worried about that. Unless you have it?”

She pondered telling him she did, but figured that might set him off.

“No, I’m clean,” she said slowly. “But I’m not on the pill.”

“Is that really wise for someone in your profession?”

She gave a brief, harsh laugh. She hadn’t had sex since Matt, and here Sean thought she did this every day. It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn pathetic. She couldn’t say that to him, of course. Safety lay in making him believe she was a professional who knew how to take money and keep her mouth shut.

“I prefer to use condoms,” she said simply, looking down at her folded hands. “It’s just always seemed a lot smarter to me. Protects against disease, you know.”

He nodded his head, eyes filled with a speculative look.

“Sure,” he said. “I have no problem with that.”

Silence fell between them. There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice sharp and businesslike.

The door opened a crack, and Valzar stuck his head in.

“I know you’re busy,” he said in accented tones. “But I think you should come out and see me. I’ve got some good news for you.”

Sean nodded and slid out of bed, apparently unconcerned by his nudity.

“Stay here,” he told her with a trace of humor in his voice. “Valzar, you got any clothing in here I can use?”

“In the drawer,” Valzar said, nodding his head toward the built-in dresser. “I brought some just for you.

I’ll be out front.”

With that he closed the door behind him and the room fell silent again. Sean pulled on his clothes and left without a word.

Valzar sat in one of the large, comfortable-looking chairs, a laptop computer propped open in front of him. He looked like a businessman, flying to some important meeting, but he was no ordinary businessman. Sean marveled again at his friend’s ingenuity. How had he wangled diplomatic immunity?

“Good news,” Valzar said, flashing Sean a grin. “Did you know you’re dead?”

“Already?” Sean asked. “They move fast. How did it happen?”

“Well, according to our friends at the CIA, you stole a small plane from the airport and disappeared soon afterward. The wreckage will be found outside Fort Wiconda in about three days, and your body will be recovered. They’re not too happy about the fact that you took a hostage, by the way.”

“Oh really?” Sean asked, dropped into the chair across from Valzar. “I suppose it complicates things on their end?”

“That’s the gist of this message,” Valzar replied with a quick smile. “Apparently they’re doing some fast work to trace her down and get enough information to fake her death believably. They said that it would have been a lot easier if you’d just killed her. At least then they’d have a body. I can see their point.”

He shot Sean a pointed look. Sean sighed, and then closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said. “There’s been too much killing already, and she didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“You’ve always been soft,” Valzar said, his face growing serious. “But your little toy is going to get us in trouble. She’s the only one who knows you aren’t dead, and that’s going to cause serious problems. You can’t let her go home and you can’t trust her. What are you going to do with her, keep her forever?”

Sean shook his head, knowing Valzar was right. But when he thought about closing those brown, pixie eyes forever, he couldn’t do it. Not now. Maybe later.

“She’s my problem, not yours,” he said finally. “She can’t tell anyone anything as long as she’s with me; you have nothing to fear from her.”

Valzar nodded his head.

“That’s certainly true,” he said. “But I’m worried about you. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to save your sorry hide, and I’d hate to see you blow it for a woman.”

“I’m a big boy,” Sean replied. “I can take care of her when the time comes.”