Surrender (18 page)

“But I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t even know how.” The bottle was empty, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing it and squeezing it. I needed to release some of the nervous energy pulsing through my system. The room filled with the loud crackle of the plastic.

“I believe you.”

“Can we find out who opened the account?”

Standing, he took the bottle from me and dropped it in the trash. “I doubt it. Whoever it was, she provided whatever documentation required to open the account. That documentation had your name on it.” He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a fresh bottle.

“So whoever opened the account had access to my personal information,” I said, thinking aloud.

Sitting beside me again, he unscrewed the cap, took a few swallows, and then handed me the semifull bottle. “Which leads me to believe it could have been someone your brother knew. Or someone you know. Most important, someone who was able to secure a copy of your personal identity documents. Social security card, driver’s license.”

“What about someone at MalTech? The HR department has copies of all those in my file. And wouldn’t that make sense, since the theft was probably committed by someone in the company? I’m the patsy, the one they’re pinning the blame on.”

He took the bottle from me again, lifted it to his mouth, and took several swallows. Then he handed it back to me. “We’ll figure out who it is.”

“But if the investigator thinks he has the right person, why would he bother to look deeper?”

“We’re going to have to give him a reason.”

Now I was starting to feel really overwhelmed. Terrified. This was so far out of my league. I didn’t know the first thing about solving crimes. “How will we do that, Kam? Will you hire your own investigator?”

“I think it’s probably too late for that.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked a friend to take some cash out of the bank for me. Within minutes the bank was surrounded by police.”

My heart stopped for several painful seconds. If Kam couldn’t access money, and he couldn’t pay someone to help us, what would we do? “Oh no.”

“I can’t get to my money. I’m guessing my credit cards are being traced too.”

“Oh God. What are we going to do?” The water I had drunk was suddenly trying to come back up. I had to swallow hard, several times.

“Don’t worry. I have some cash on me. Just not enough to pay a PI. We are going to find out who really stole the plans. You and me. And we’re going to take that information to the police.”

His plan sounded so simple. So easy. But it was far—light years—from simple and easy. “But how are we going to find out anything from here?”

“I need a computer. Did you bring yours from work?”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t get it. Security wouldn’t let me anywhere near my office. Is there a computer here? Or can we use our phones?”

“No. There isn’t one. And I’ll need a computer, not a phone. The mobile browser isn’t great for accessing the parts of the system I need. Not to mention, it would be easier with a keyboard. I’m going to have to buy one.” He fingered a strand of my hair. “While we’re out, I think it might be time for a makeover. Have you ever considered going blond?”

19

A
few hours later, two people I barely recognized walked out of the Lucky Day Salon. I now had long blond Jessica Simpson hair. I was no Jessica Simpson, but even I had to admit I carried the look pretty well. Especially with the new clothes I was wearing. Kam had absolutely no hair now. His head was shaved smooth. And since he hadn’t shaved his face, he was now sporting dark stubble that would soon grow into a beard. The new look, coupled with his new clothes, made him appear even more dangerous than before. And sexy. Very sexy.

We headed to the closest electronics store after that, grabbed a laptop, paid cash, and drove back to our safe house, ready to start digging into Kam’s employee files. But as we pulled up to the house, Kam slowed the car.

“Do you remember seeing those cars parked on the street before?” He motioned to a couple of black cars with tinted windows.

“No.”

“Neither do I.” Pushing the accelerator, he said, “Don’t look directly at them as we pass.”

“Okay.” My heart started racing as we drove slowly up the street. It felt like we were crawling. But in reality, we were going the speed limit.

We passed the house.

And I inhaled. “Is someone watching the house?”

“I think so.”

“How did they find us?”

“I don’t know.” He turned the vehicle onto the closest major street and hit the gas, pushing it to fifty-five.

“Where are we going now?”

“I don’t know. I’m using a thruway. . . .”

“I’m scared.”

He turned to me. “Do you have your cell phone with you?”

“Of course.”

“Let me see it.”

I dug it out of my bag and handed it to him. He immediately powered it down. “GPS.”

I smacked my hands over my face. “Oh God. It was me?”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know, and I didn’t think to tell you to disable it. Mine is always disabled.”

“Where are we going now?” I asked as we pulled up to a traffic light.

A police car shot across the road in front of us, turned left, and traveled down the street we’d just come up.

Staring straight ahead at the glowing red light, he said, “We need to get as far away from here as possible.” When the light changed, he hit the gas and we were off again. As we drove south, two more police cars raced past us. And as each one zoomed by I breathed a little easier. For the time being it seemed we were safe. The police didn’t know what kind of vehicle we were driving.

Kam poked the buttons on the vehicle’s built-in GPS unit as he drove. “We need to get off the main streets, take back roads out of the area before they set up a road block.”

My hands were trembling horribly as I helped him get the unit to display an area map.

“There. That’s the way we need to go.” He pointed at the unit. “Tell me when we need to turn.”

“Okay.”

For the next harrowing half hour, I talked him through a maze of narrow, rutted, wooded roads. As we drove I kept looking back, wondering if someone was following. I looked up every time I heard a plane. It wasn’t until we were on the freeway, humming along at eighty miles per hour, that I started to relax a little.

“I am not made for this running from police stuff,” I said a short time later. “I need stability. Certainty. This living with the unknown is killing me.”

“I’m not that comfortable with it either.” Kam slid his hand over mine, and I felt a little better. Yes, this was terrible. Absolutely terrifying. But at least I wasn’t alone. Despite those couple of misunderstandings we had had, I knew I could trust Kam in a situation like this. Ironically, it was everything leading me up to this point, including his doubts, and mine as well, that had me believing that.

We stopped to eat twice, buying fast food at drive-through windows, parking in crowded parking lots, and eating in the relative safety of the vehicle. Every now and then we took bathroom breaks, stopping at rest stops when we could and avoiding drawing attention to ourselves as much as possible.

By midnight we were somewhere in Iowa. I was sore and exhausted. It was dark and empty, desolate. Using the GPS, Kam located a dumpy motel just off the freeway. We checked in under fake names, paid for the night with cash, and dragged our weary selves into the dingy room. After washing my face and brushing my teeth with my finger, I climbed into bed. Fully dressed, except for shoes. Kam pulled me into his arms. It felt so good to be held. I cried a little, and he stroked my hair and told me everything would be okay. Finally, a short time later, I tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

 

Coffee.

Warm croissants, dripping with butter.

Bacon.

I inhaled deeply. No, that was no dream. I smelled food. Groggy headed, I blinked open my eyes and glanced around the dimly lit room.

The first thing I noticed was that I was alone. Kam’s side of the bed was empty.

The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom. And I was stiff. A blade of brilliant light was slicing through the small gap between the curtains. It was most definitely daytime. I checked the clock. Almost noon? Could that be right? Had I slept eleven hours?

I spied the bag and foam cups sitting on the dresser. I went for the coffee first. Delicious. And hot but not too scalding. I downed half the cup while I rummaged through the bag of cartons, pulling them out and flipping them open. Bacon. I wanted bacon.

I found it. In the last foam carryout container.

I crunched and slurped until the bathroom door opened. Then I sighed as Kam came strolling out smelling like soap and looking like a Greek god. He wore only a white bath towel, tucked around his hips to hide the parts I admired most. The skin on his stomach, chest, and shoulders was still damp, droplets of water catching the light when he passed through the stream of sunlight cutting through the dim interior. When my gaze made it to his face, I realized he was sporting a wicked grin.

“Good morning,” he purred. “Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thanks. I guess I just needed some rest.”

“That made two of us. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late.”

“Clearly you were up before me. You brought breakfast.”

“I did. Is it okay?”

“Delicious.”

“Good.” With a loose-hipped swagger that made my heart pitter and patter, he sauntered over to me, leaned close, reached, and plucked a piece of bacon from the carton. As he lifted it, my eyes followed the movement of his hand, rising higher, higher, then toward me.

I parted my lips as he eased the bacon between them, took a bite. My mouth filled with the smoky, salty flavor. The brittle meat cracked and crunched. He lifted the rest of the slice to his mouth and made it disappear in two bites.

I’d never found eating bacon sexy before now.

“You’re right,” he said, voice low and rumbly. “It’s delicious.” He pulled up the chair that had been sitting in the room’s corner and sat. “I’d like some more.” He opened his mouth.

He wanted me to feed him?

I selected another piece. His gaze locked to mine as he waited. Feeding someone, I hadn’t realized until that moment, was a very intimate act. I placed the bacon in his mouth, holding one end as he closed his mouth over the other, severing it into two. His tongue swept across his lower lip as he chewed. It was a sexy sight. When his lips parted again, I placed the remaining portion in his mouth. “Thank you,” he said as he crunched. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had bacon. I’ve forgotten how delicious it is.”

“Me too.” I snatched a piece and nibbled as he watched. “This stuff is so bad for you.”

“It is.”

“I shouldn’t be eating it.”

“It isn’t bad to indulge if you do it only occasionally.” He reached around me. “Life is all about balance.”

“This coming from a guy I suspect works night and day?”

Donning a crooked grin, he shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

Like I was buying that. “Really?”

“My life isn’t normally all work. It’s just been that way for oh . . .” He glanced toward the ceiling. “The last ten years or so.”

I laughed, and he joined me. It was another one of those amazing moments where I felt we were connecting on a deeper level than I’d ever found with another man. “I’m wrong?”

“Absolutely. Because I don’t want to work all the time. I’ve just never had any reason not to work that much.”

Was he trying to say he did now?

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Some words popped into my head. Lots of words. But I was terrified those words would scare him or freak him out. They pretty much did me.

Instead of saying those words, I filled my mouth with more fried pork and smiled.

Kam stood, took my hand. “Come here. I want just a little more time with you before we have to go.” He led me to the bed. I stopped directly in front of it. “Before we have to get back to reality, how about a little more fantasy?”

Like I could turn that down?

I nodded.

Leaving me, he went to the chair and pulled it up to the foot of the bed. Then, confusing me, he sat. “When I say that word, fantasy, what images come to your mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I felt my cheeks warming. No one had ever asked me a question like that.

“You’re being shy.”

“I guess. Kind of.”

“Why?” He draped one arm over the back of the chair. The pose made his abs flex. Could there be a more beautiful man?

“What about you? What comes to your mind?” I asked.

“I asked you first.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so shy if you shared.”

“Okay. I imagine I’m a king, ruler of a rich and powerful nation. I have women throwing themselves at my feet.”

“Sounds like a typical male’s fantasy,” I said, half joking.

“Perhaps. But my fantasy is different.”

“How’s that?”

“There’s one woman who doesn’t throw herself at me. She stands tall and proud. She sees past my crown, my throne. And she falls to her knees not because of what I am but because of her love for me.”

I wanted to play out his fantasy. He’d shared it with me. Didn’t that mean he was hoping I would?

More than a little nervous, I slid off the bed and stood before him. With eyes locked to his, I undressed. It was secretly thrilling to stand before such a beautiful man completely nude, to have his eyes simmering with need as he looked upon me.

When he didn’t say anything, I eased down to my knees. “I will serve you. For as long as you like.”

He stood, cupped my chin, and lifted it. Bending, he kissed me until I was breathless and aching all over. When the kiss ended, I could think of nothing but kissing him again. My tongue darted out, finding his flavor lingering on my lip. My heart beat a quick staccato as my gaze met his.

He straightened up, took my hands in his, and placed them at the top of the towel that was still wrapped around his hips. I tugged it off and tossed it aside. His cock was erect, and my mouth watered at the sight, at the memory of how he tasted.

I wrapped my hand around the base, feeling the steady pulse beat beneath my fingertips. Opening my mouth, I pulled the swollen head inside. He tasted clean and fresh, like man and soap and water. I suckled. I whirled my tongue around the flared ridge of the head. I pulled hard, drawing him deeper into my mouth. My tongue cushioned his length as he slid into the back of my throat, and I relaxed the muscles, taking him as deep as I could.

He groaned, tangled his fingers in my hair. “Have you enjoyed being dominated, my sweet girl?”

“Yes.” That was no lie. Since those first days of our relationship, like that insanely hot time in my office, every experience with him had been so exciting and erotic. I’d never experienced anything like that before.

“I can see that.” He pulled me forward, pushing his cock into my throat. “Oh yes. How I see that.”

I took him deep, relishing the sensation of his thickness plunging in and out of my throat. He fucked my mouth. He fucked it harder than any man ever had. And I loved it. Every torturous second. Every incredible sensation.

As he grew harder, hotter, my body responded. My blood warmed. My pussy dampened. I wanted his touch. I ached for his next command. His pleasure was my pleasure. Truly.

When he abruptly jerked away, I whimpered. It was as if he’d stolen my favorite treat. He pulled me to my feet. “The bed.”

I crawled into the middle and waited for him to tell me what he wanted next.

He pulled off the top sheet, bit a corner, and tore a strip. The sound of the rending fabric cut through the heavy silence in the room, sending a shiver down my spine. “On your back.” He ripped a second strip from the cotton.

I lay down, centering myself on the mattress.

“Hands up.”

I raised my hands, making a wide vee with my arms.

He wrapped one strip around my right wrist, then looped it around the post on the headboard. “You remember our word?”

“Red.”

“Good. I don’t expect you’ll need it. But I wanted to make sure.” He walked around the foot of the bed and up the other side. Within seconds, both wrists were bound and I couldn’t move my arms.

And I was loving it.

“Open your legs,” he demanded.

A pulse of heat throbbed in my center.

Bending my knees, I opened my legs, displaying myself to his hungry, dark eyes.

“Wider,” he snapped, sounding as if he were on the edge of losing control.

Trembling now, I drew my bent knees out and back. I felt, as I stretched, my folds unfurling, opening for his inspection.