Heavy Metal Heart: A Bad Boy Rock Star Romance (18 page)

Torsten calmly reached one hand behind him to grab the duffel bag off the table. He picked it up by the strap, dropped it directly in front of his feet, and folded his muscular arms across his chest again

"Come get it." 

Crina and Gregor glanced at each other nervously, trying to determine what to do. Helena's heart lifted in relief. Torsten was in complete control. Her kidnappers had no idea who they were dealing with. 

"Go pick it up," Crina finally instructed Gregor. 

In a few long steps, Gregor was on the other side of the room. He didn't look so large and intimidating with Torsten regarding him coolly and unfazed. 

"Open the bag," Torsten invited. 

Gregor bent down to pick up the duffel and unzipped the main compartment. With his eyes downcast and his hands occupied, Torsten's fist came at him as fast as lightning. It made a sick crack sound as it landed on Gregor's jaw. 

Gregor reeled back, dropping the bag in surprise. Torsten’s next blow landed squarely in his stomach. The large masked man doubled over, uttering the first sound Helena heard from him that night: A pained, “Oof!”

Crina and Helena watched numbly as Torsten’s fist smashed into Gregor’s jaw again, knocking down to one knee. The next punched knocked him flat on the floor. He never stood a chance. 

Torsten's fists rained down on Gregor's skull five more times before he stopped. Gregor laid on the floor unmoving, his face already resembling raw meat. 

A heavy silence overtook the room as Torsten casually wiped his bloody knuckles on his shirt. "Is that what you were going to do to her?" he asked threateningly as he stepped over Gregor's unconscious body toward Helena and Crina. 

Still handcuffed and on her knees, Helena felt Crina stiffen next to her. 

"Gregor..." she squeaked. 

"He's not dead. Unfortunately for you two, I'm not kind enough to put you shitheads out of your misery." Torsten walked closer. Crina reactively took a step back and Helena wondered if she would run away. "But fortunately for you, I don't hit women." He glanced back at Gregor on the floor, his signature smirk playing on his lips again. "So let me guess. He's the muscle and you're the genius?" he asked with a mocking tone. 

"Look I'll just take the bag and you'll never hear of us again. We both held up our ends of the deal so let’s be done with it." Crina's face turned as pale as a sheet. Helena figured she would pass out in fear before being able to run away. 

Torsten threw his head back and laughed uproariously. "You dumbshits thought I was actually going to pay you and let you go? Oh, no no no." 

He stepped closer slowly like a predator creeping up on wounded prey. From where she knelt Helena felt the anger and adrenaline radiating from him like a heat wave. Despite her exhaustion from fear, no sleep, and pain from her binds, just being near him again made her pussy wet and hollow. She'd gladly stay in this bound position on her knees if she could suck his cock. 

"There are stacks of paper in that bag, but not the kind you want," Torsten stated almost apologetically. He was enjoying this immensely. 

"What do you want?" Crina whimpered. 

"You're going to let my woman go." Torsten spoke softly but Helena heard the aggressive undertones like a soft growl. 

Crina swallowed nervously. "He has the handcuff key in his pants pocket." She nodded at Gregor's limp body. 

Torsten took a few steps backward toward Gregor, keeping his eyes on Crina. He slowly knelt down to search through the unconscious man’s pockets and that's when Crina made her move. 

She turned on her heel intending to leap down the stairs behind her, but Helena saw it coming. Blindly she kicked one bruised, cramped leg behind her. On a stroke of pure luck, it connected squarely with  the back of Crina's calf muscle. 

A bloodcurdling scream echoed off the ancient stone walls as Crina tumbled down. It seemed to last forever, then silence. Helena squeezed her eyes shut as her stomach churned and bile rose in the throat. She couldn't believe what she'd done.

Oh God, what if I killed her?

Agonizing wails of pain floating from the stairwell answered her prayers. "Ohhhhh my God, help meeee! Heeelp!" 

Helena suddenly felt enveloped in warmth and strong arms. Kisses rained down on her hair and forehead, a stark contrast to the punches thrown just moments earlier. 

"Stay still, my love. I'm unlocking you." Torsten's voice, so close and comforting like a blanket. His soft beard rubbed against her cheek and it sent her skin tingling. 

Completely drained of energy, she leaned against him. The solid wall of muscle supported her as he released her wrists from the cuffs. She felt his fingers intertwine with hers as he rubbed her sore wrists and hands. 

"Take it slow, love. Your extremities need oxygen." He sounded oddly clinical like she was in a doctor's office and she couldn't help but laugh. 

With her hands free, she cradled them against his chest. He pulled her tightly against him, almost crushing her but she sank into his embrace. Overcome with relief and exhaustion, she closed her eyes. Nothing would be better than waking up right here, still in his arms, never letting go. 

Crina's wails, still floating up the stairs as if from a ghost, jolted her out of her comfortable place buried in Torsten's chest. 

"What about her?" she asked. The reality of the entire night hit her like a freight train. 

Holy shit, holy shit holy shit! I was kidnapped! The man I love came to my rescue and beat one of them into a bloody pulp! I kicked the other one down the stairs! 

"She'll live," Torsten said dismissively. "She's got a broken leg, for sure. Probably a broken rib or two. Someone will find her soon." 

"You saved me," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut with heavy fatigue. 

"Least I could do for the woman I love." Torsten's voice rumbled from deep within his chest like a gentle thunder. "But really, you did a good job of saving yourself." 

"I love you too..." Helena's head tilted back and she saw Torsten's face through her heavy lids. His strong jaw clenched and his brow knitted in concern as he held her. 

She felt his mouth on hers and kissed him back eagerly with the little strength she had left. His soft lips combined with the rough, tantalizing texture of his beard was the last thing she felt before losing consciousness.

This time, he did stay awake and watch her sleep. 

Helena's lips parted as she breathed deeply. He watched her chest rise and fall softly while she slept, admiring the shape of her breasts spilling like beautiful pillows across her chest. 

When she passed out he carried her from the tower down the same staircase that Crina had fallen. She laid out on the landing like a wounded bird unable to fly. With Helena in his arms, he stepped over her callously, never bothering to look at her. 

"Please help me! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I need a doctor! Help!" she wailed, trying to clutch at his legs. 

He carried Helena to their room and set her down before calling local medical services. They were already on their way, so he considered his involvement done. He thought of calling the police to ensure Crina and Gregor got removed from their jobs but felt they had been punished enough. On the streets, he learned to defend himself and injure his opponents just enough that they wouldn't come after him again. 

They would live. Their bodies would heal. But they would never forget messing with the wrong person. He made damn sure of that. Well, he made one of them sure. Helene took care of the other one all on her own. 

He smiled down at her peaceful, sleeping face. His love for her only increased a hundredfold when he saw her kick that bitch's leg out from under her. Despite her exhaustion and stress, she wasn't completely helpless. Hell, she could have outsmarted the big guy too, most likely. But after they threatened to hurt her, muscle against muscle served the best punishment.

A sudden knock rapped at the door and Helena stirred with a soft groan. Torsten glared daggers through the wood as he got up from the bed. He wouldn't mind punching another face if it allowed Helena to rest more. 

He cracked the door open to see Stig looking back at him.

"What?" 

"How is she?"

Torsten let out a long sigh like he'd been holding his breath all night. "She's okay. Tired and a little shook up, but she's tough. She'll be fine." 

"Glad to hear it. We've all become fond of her." 

"Yeah, me too." Torsten realized he hadn't really talked to the band about his relationship with Helena but then again, he hadn't realized it was a true relationship until recent events. But he didn't pick stupid bandmates. They could all see over the last month how much time they spent together and probably came to that conclusion sooner than he did

"I came to tell you we're about all packed up, and ready to hit it soon," Stig said in his high, musical voice. There was a reason Torsten chose him to sing. "Next stop: Moldova." 

Torsten nodded. "We'll be out soon." 

Stig returned the nod and Torsten closed the door softly. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as he ran the rest of the tour itinerary through his head. 

They had seven smaller Eastern European countries to travel through, plus two major cities in Russia: Moscow and Saint Petersburg. Their last two stops before finally returning home were Finland and Sweden. After all that, they'd be back home in Norway. 

Eleven more shows and three more weeks on the road. Would Helena even want to visit one more strange land after what she had been through? 

He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes trailing along every sensuous curve of her body. The body he never tired of exploring every night for the past three weeks. The body she allowed him to enter, to taste, to receive his own pleasure. The thought of those idiot fucking kidnappers touching her and holding her captive made him wish he finished them off. He had to remind himself it was better for them to live, suffer, and remember. 

As quietly as he could to not rouse her, he crawled on the bed next to her. He trailed a finger ever so softly along her inner thigh. She didn't wake up but with a soft groan, shifted her position. Her legs splayed open across the mattress. 

Torsten gently caressed up the length of her thigh again and rested his fingers on her vulva. Through her panties, he felt the heat from her pussy ignite his fingertips and his cock throbbed hungrily. Still, she didn't wake up. 

His fingers rubbed up and down the length of her slit gently, nothing more than a light caress. Still, she didn't wake up. 

If I've got to wake you, love, I might as well make it nice.

He pulled his fingers away for just a moment to position himself between her legs. His cock strained against his pants, begging for release. But this moment was not about his pleasure. 

He lowered his mouth to her hip bones and resisted the urge to grab them like so many times before when he pounded her as she screamed. Instead, he rubbed his fingers against her vulva again. Her panties felt wetter than they had a moment ago and his swollen cock dribbled precome in response.

His mouth poured soft kisses from the crest of her hips to the inside of her thigh, just next to where his fingers gradually rubbed more intently against her panties. 

"Mmmm." Helena moaned softly and bent her knees, giving him easier access to that mouthwatering pussy. He couldn't tease her for much longer with it glistening in front of him, begging to be eaten like a ripe peach. 

He pulled her panties aside and began to softly lick at her wetness, parting her pink folds and relishing in her intoxicating scent and taste. How torturous it was spending just hours away from her.

"Mmm, Torsten?" Helena mumbled sleepily. 

He continued dining on her pussy like a delicacy reserved for royals. His tongue slid deeper into her sweet, soaking cunt like it never wanted to leave. She gasped, finally waking up as he probed the inside of her as far as he could. His tongue fucked her mercilessly until her breath came in ragged gasps, her hands clawed around the sheets, and she looked down at him with hooded bedroom eyes. 

Only then did he remove his tongue from inside her and roll it across her clit, making her hips buck. 

"Sleep well, love?" 

"Fuck me. Please, I need your cock inside me." 

“Glad you’re feeling better.” With a wicked grin, Torsten sat up, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop. His erection practically jumped out like an escapee. It pointed straight at Helena, knowing exactly what it wanted. 

He lowered himself over her, positioning himself at her entrance. With a small thrust forward, his cock pushed just past her swollen lips. He felt her throbbing liquid heat flow over his cock head and that sensation alone almost made him come. 

Helena's legs wrapped tightly around his hips to urge him inside. Her small, delicate hands traveled up his chest and across his flexed, muscular arms. He loved how much she enjoyed exploring him just as much as he did her. 

As much as he wanted to impale her tight, eager pussy, he eased himself inside slowly. He wanted to feel every inch of her along every inch of her shaft. The world seemed to slow down as he rocked his hips back and forth at a steady, even pace. 

"I couldn't stand even one night away from you," she moaned into his mouth. Sharp little breaths escaped her every time he crashed into her like an ocean wave. 

"If they'd hurt you, I'd be a murderer in a Romanian prison right now." 

"Don't say that. Then I'd be away from you even longer." 

"I saw how you kicked that bitch down the stairs. You're not so innocent, my love. I think we'd be in a jail cell together. I'd still be making love to this beautiful pussy right now, just up against iron bars." 

Helena's laughter rang musically in his ear as he teased her nipple between his teeth. His balls began to ache and feel heavy. He
had
to empty his load soon. His hand slid down her sides to cup her ass. With a handful of her supple ass cheek he lifted her pelvis just a few inches and began to speed up his thrusts.