Maya Banks - Colters’ Woman

“Don’t stop,” she gasped when he paused.

He grinned down at her. “Not so cocky now, are we?”

“I’m so going to get you back for this,” she gritted out.

He pulled back and stopped. She bucked her hips, trying to seat him fully again.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

He groaned and slid into her again. “I love a woman with a potty mouth.”

She laughed.

He began to thrust harder, setting a breathtaking pace. She tried to catch up, to breathe, but she was robbed of air.

He let her legs go and they slumped to the side. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close to her as she could. Then she circled his waist with her legs, locking him into place.

They kissed hotly, wetly, their tongues imitating the sliding motion of his cock in and out of her pussy. His hands tangled roughly in her hair as he pulled her mouth to his.

Urgency mounted in her groin. Her orgasm raced upon her with speed she’d never experienced. There was no slow build to the finish. It exploded around her in a violent surge. Every muscle in her body strained painfully and then released like an arrow from a bow.

Ryan thrust powerfully against her, his hips rocking her forward on the bed. “Oh, damn,” he strained out.

Yeah, damn. She collapsed beneath him as he surged forward again, his seed rushing into her body. His hips twitched and jerked as he continued to jet his release.

Finally he slumped between her legs, his forehead resting on hers. His breaths came in jerky spurts as he sucked in mouthfuls of air.

“You’re going to kill me,” he groaned.

“But what a way to go,” she said.

He rolled to the side of her and drew her into his arms. “Want me to draw you a bath?”

She smiled. “No, I’d much rather stay right here.”

“You wore me out,” he complained.

“Whiner.”

He tweaked her nipple with his free hand. “Watch your mouth or I’ll slide my dick in it to shut you up.”

“Promises, promises,” she chided.

He chuckled and rested his chin on top of her head. “Go to sleep.”

She sighed. “You going to get the lights or shall I?”

He groaned but slid out of bed and padded toward the light switch. Before he reached it, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Ryan?” she called out in a wavery voice.

Icy dread snaked down her spine. She knew he hadn’t flipped the switch. He hadn’t even touched it yet.

Ryan strode back to the bed. He reached down for his jeans and threw her clothes onto the bed. “Get dressed,” he commanded.

She hurried out of bed and pulled the camisole over her head. She reached for the underwear and thrust a leg into them.

“Come with me,” Ryan said, reaching for her arm.

He hustled her down the hallway, his arm curled protectively around her.

“Is it the weather?” she asked as they entered the living room.

Ryan bent over the desk and dug out a flashlight. “No, I don’t think so.”

Fear formed a hard ball in her stomach. “What is it then?”

He turned to her, his face barely outlined in the darkness. “Listen to me. I want you to go into the guest bathroom and lock yourself in. There’s no windows. Stay until I come get you.”

Terror swept over her. “Ryan, what’s going on?”

He bent and kissed her hard, taking her breath. “Go.”

She ran. Through the dining room and down the other hallway where all the guestrooms were situated. She felt her way in the darkness, her hands sliding down the walls. She threw open the door to the bathroom and rushed in, slamming it behind her.

She bolted the lock then felt around in the darkness. The counter, the rim of the toilet. She fumbled with the seat and quietly set it down then sat and hunched forward, hugging her knees to her chest.

Hours passed or was it minutes? It felt like an eternity. Where was Ryan? There was no sound, only the suffocating cape of darkness.

Then she heard footsteps. Slow, wary footsteps. Closer they came until they stopped outside the door. She sucked in her breath and battled the panic that threatened to overtake her.

“Holly, it’s me. Open the door.”

She surged from the toilet and yanked open the door. She threw herself into Ryan’s arms. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure. I’ve checked the house, the grounds. The fuses are fine, no cut wires. Must be trouble in the line.”

She sighed in relief. “I was scared.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Come on out into the living room. I want you where I can see you. I’ll build up the fire.”

She followed him down the hallway, her hand tucked securely into his. As they stepped into the living room, a shadow darted into her line of vision. Before she could react, a shot rang out and Ryan jerked. He fell to the floor inches from her feet.

Holly screamed. Oh God, Ryan had been shot! She dropped to the floor, uncaring of the danger to her. “Ryan! Ryan!” she screamed.

She ran her hands across his chest, and they came away warm and sticky. Blood.

Pain exploded in her head as someone yanked her up by her hair. She reacted in fury, kicking and hitting. The dark figure threw her away from him, and she hit the wall. Before she could run, he was on her. He backhanded her across the face, knocking her to the floor.

She lay there stunned, pain flashing in her vision. The attacker yanked her hands behind her and slapped handcuffs on her. She struggled wildly, but he had her pinned beneath his knee. He bent her legs, putting them together then he snapped a pair of cuffs around her ankles.

“Get off me, you bastard!” she shrieked.

He slapped her again then shoved a cloth in her mouth. Then he tied a bandana around her head, securing the gag. With his knee still squarely in her back, he fumbled for a minute then she heard the beeping of a phone. He was calling someone. Who?

“I’ve got her,” he said. “Yeah. Taken care of.” He paused for a minute. “I’m taking her to the cabin. It’s remote. No one will find her, and I’ll make sure all loose ends are tied up.”

He clapped the phone shut then grabbed her arms and hauled her up. “You and I are going for a ride, bitch.”

He dragged her toward the door, and she stared back at Ryan, straining to see him in the dim light. Tears flooded her eyes. Ryan. Oh God. The bastard had killed him.

Sobs welled in her throat, escaping around the gag. A blast of cold air washed over her naked legs as the attacker pulled her outside into the snow. Her skimpy nightwear offered no protection from the biting cold.

As if she were nothing, the man threw her over his shoulder and headed for the road. A few minutes later, he stopped and dumped her into the ditch.

She looked up to see a dark vehicle, an SUV of some type. The man yanked open the back then turned to pull her up. He threw her into the back, and she landed with a thump, all the breath knocked from her.

He slammed the door, and seconds later, she heard the driver’s door open and then the engine started.

Grief and rage poured over her, swirling, a storm she couldn’t control. She ignored the cold, her injuries, she could only think of Ryan lying lifeless on the floor.

The SUV rounded a corner, jostling her. Something smooth and cool slid into her chin. It took her a moment to realize it was a cell phone. He must have dropped it when he threw her in the back.

Her heart beat furiously as she tried to figure out a way she could use the phone. Her hands were secured behind her back, her legs were handcuffed, and the cloth was stuffed in her mouth.

First the gag had to go. She slid her head repeatedly on the floor, trying to move the bandana down her head. After several agonizing attempts, she felt the bandana slip and loosen. She scrubbed her cheek until finally she worked the bandana down around her neck.

She chewed and worked her tongue, shoving the cloth from her mouth. Finally it fell and she sucked in huge breaths, trying to make the panic subside.

Getting the phone open would be tricky. She rolled and contorted her body, flipping over to her other side. She wiggled her fingers, reaching, straining for the phone. Her fingers slid over the surface, and she dug her fingers into the seam until finally she cracked it open.

She glanced her fingers over the buttons, feeling for which was which. Awkwardly, she pushed one, then another until finally she had the sequence of Adam’s cell phone number inputted. Then she felt for the send button, praying she guessed right.

As soon as she pressed the last button, she rolled and squirmed, rotating back over until her mouth and ear were close to the receiver.

Let him answer, she prayed. Let him answer.

Bitter cold pierced Adam’s heavy coat. They’d finally been able to pick up a faint trail in the snow about a mile outside of town. He and Ethan shined their floodlights over the terrain, moving as quickly through the drifts as possible.

Heavy, wet flakes fell, covering the tracks almost as quickly as they could find them.

“There’s a shed just ahead,” Adam shouted back to Lacey who was bringing up the rear.

He waded through the last heavy drift and shoved his way to the ramshackle shed a few feet away. He grabbed his gun sling and hauled his rifle over his shoulder until his hand curled around the stock.

Ethan shuffled up behind him, rifle trained on the door.

“Shine the light, I’ll go in,” Adam directed.

He counted to three then rammed his shoulder into the rickety wooden door. It shattered and Adam stumbled inside. Ethan rushed in behind him, light raised, gun sweeping the area.

“There, in the corner!” Adam exclaimed.

Lacey burst in behind them, her pistol drawn. “Find anything?” she asked breathlessly.

Adam didn’t respond. His attention was focused on the small child huddled in the corner of the shed. Dropping to his knees in front of the boy, Adam reached out and touched the child’s cold skin.

To his relief, the boy stirred and opened his eyes.

“Thank God,” Adam murmured.

Lacey immediately began barking orders into her radio as she relayed their position. She requested EMS and told the dispatcher to inform the parents the child had been found.

“Sam,” Adam said gently. “We’ve come to take you home.”

“The bad man said I couldn’t go home,” Sam stuttered out. “Not until…”

“Not until what?” Lacey demanded.

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion, his lips shook with the cold. “Said I had to serve my purpose. What’s that mean?”

Adam looked at the others and shrugged. What sicko had taken the child and left him here in the cold to freeze to death?

He reached down and picked Sam up, cradling him in his arms. “We’re going to take you home now, Sam. Your mama’s been awfully worried.”

“Don’t let the bad man hurt her,” Sam mumbled against Adam’s shirt.

“Don’t worry, son. He can’t hurt your mama.”

Sam raised his head. “Not Mama. The woman. The bad man said he had to take care of a woman.”

Icy prickles danced up Adam’s spine. He glanced over at the others, tendrils of dread clinging to him like a vine. “Take him for me,” he directed Ethan.

After Ethan hefted the boy into his arms, Adam dug for his cell phone. He punched in his home number and waited as it rang. He let it ring twenty times before he closed his cell phone. He swore softly.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Lacey offered. “They’re probably asleep.”

“Yeah and my signal sucks,” Adam said, trying to dispel the heavy foreboding that swelled in his gut. “I’ll try again when we get to town.”

“Ready to head out?” Lacey asked as she secured the rope to the rescue sled.

Ethan laid Sam down and arranged blankets around him. Then he and Adam took the rope and began pulling the sled through the snow. It was at least an hour trek back to town, and Adam carried a knot the size of a softball in his stomach.

Forty-five minutes later, out of breath and slogging much slower through the snow, Adam and Ethan stopped a moment to rest.

“It’s not much further now,” Lacey said.

Adam nodded, too winded to speak. The peal of his cell phone ringing rent the night air. Adam dropped the rope and dug frantically for his phone.

He flipped it open. “This is Adam.”

“Adam…” Holly’s voice, faint and wavery, filtered through the line.