Take Me Now (Take Me Series) (4 page)

He carried his coffee to the porch. It was only the
beginning of the second day and Sari was already tugging at his heart.
 
Actually, she’d been tugging at it for a
while, he realized.

He finished his coffee, then walked with intent to her door
and entered. Tying her wrists at her back, he led her to the bathroom as he had
the previous evening, allowing her to relieve herself.

Sari heard the sound of water, but it was not coming from
the sink, but the shower. He took her by the elbow, lifted her and pushed her
in the direction of the water. He was standing directly behind her. She felt
his hard body against her back, her chin being lifted and a cold blade pressed
against the hollow of her throat. He was still pissed at her. Her breathe lurch
in her throat. Panic set in, and she barely heard his words, felt his hot
breath in her ear.

“I’m going to untie you,” he whispered. “I want you to slip
out of your robe and panties. Don’t touch the blindfold, or the consequences
will be deadly. Understand?”

“Yes.” She choked out her reply.

An instant later, the blade fall away and the rope was unfastened
from her wrists. This was her chance to escape, she thought. The notion no
sooner crossed her mind when he turned her in his arms and shoved her back
against the wall.
 
“Undress,” he
demanded.
 
“Now!”

His voice carried and undertone of warning as though he
suspected her intentions. Sliding the robe over her shoulders, she allowed it
to pool at her feet while she slipped out of her panties, shaking.
Instinctively, her hands covered her breasts.

Brady couldn’t take his eyes from her as they travelled
from her head to her toes. She was hot and sexy, yet there was a sense of
innocence in her posture. Damn, if he didn’t want to ravish every inch of her
body. This was going to be more difficult than he imagined. He was glad that
she couldn’t see the passion burning in his eyes.

“Come here,” he demanded.

His words were raspy and curt. Sari swallowed and took two
steps toward him.

Brady saw that she was visibly trembling. A slow smile
curled his lips. That’s what he wanted of her
–
that’s what she wanted
–
to be dominated, to not be given a choice. “Give me your
hands.”

 
Sari obeyed. She
feared the consequences if she didn’t. She knew nothing about this man
–
only, that he was playing a
perilous game and she was the pawn. He had thrown a knife into the equation. For
all she knew, he intended to kill her when he’d finished with her.

Stifling a cry, she lifted her arms and held them out to
him. She felt the powerful grip of his hands on her wrists; of the rope being
wrapped around them; then the rough jerk when he tied the knot and shoved her
in the direction of the rushing water.

“Step up,” he said.

An instant later, she was in the shower. Steam filled the
chamber. Warm water cascaded over her breasts and she welcomed it. She didn’t
hear the rustling of clothing, and was unaware that he had joined her until she
heard his voice close to her ear.
“Game time.”

Sari stiffened. The nightmare was about to begin and she
had no clue how to make it go away.

Brady recognized her terror of him
–it was apparent
in the quivering of her lips, the
rise and fall of her breasts, the quaking of her stomach. He was surprised to
find that it excited him. Turning her toward the wall, he lifted her wrists up
and over her head, fastening the rope to the sprayer. His eyes fell to the firm
shape of her bottom and lingered there. He bent down and nipped it hard.

Sari let go a gasp, rose on her toes and bucked her pelvis
in the direction of the wall. Her reaction thrilled him and he did it again,
and again.
 
When he felt the swell of his
penis, he pressed it against the small of her back and rocked against it. She
arched away from him, but he snaked his hand around her middle and crushed her
against his abdomen.

Horror raced like lightning through every vessel in Sari’s
body. She hadn’t anticipated his nakedness, and now his hard prick was pressed
against the crack of her ass and she feared that the meant to take her,
regardless of her surrender.

Brady felt the flutter of her stomach contracting against
his hand. Moving upward to her breasts, he cupped it, squeezing it and molding
it to his palm. Every shudder, every rippling muscle, every panting sigh told
him that she wanted him.

Breathe heaved in and out of Sari’s lungs at such a rapid
and alarming pace that she had no control over it; nor the muscles of her
stomach contorting when his fingers roughly took hold of her nipple and tugged
on it. It instantly hardened and peaked. Sensations
–both pain and
pleasure–
traveled from her
breast to the burning heat between her thighs. Every pinch was more escalating
than the last. Unexpectedly, she cried out.
 
She hadn’t meant to.

 
A smile of
satisfaction creased Brady’s lips and spread to his cheeks. Her cry only served
to arouse him further. “Say it,” he whispered, “and I’ll take you.”

Sari instantly sobered. He wanted her to say it, and she
longed to obey, but what then? What would he do with her once he had gotten
what he wanted and finished with her. He frightened her to no end. He intended
to win the game, but at what cost to her?
 
She needed more time, time to work out a plan.

“No,” she whimpered.

Brady laid his head against the middle of her back. He
wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his prick in check. He had wanted
Sari for months
–
wanted
her with a passion
–
and
she wanted him, as well. It was obvious that she enjoyed the game, the way that
he aroused her, but her denial was driving him beyond reasoning.

Well, maybe he should return the favor. If she needed for
him to be rougher, harder, before she consented, then he’d up the stakes and do
it. He bit down on the lobe of her ear.
 
“You’re going to surrender, Sari. I promise you.”

“Never,” she panted.

He nipped her shoulder. His arms came around her and he
pinched her nipples tight between his thumb and forefinger, release and
pressure, release and more pressure. They hardened immediately. He continued to
work her left nipple while his right hand slid down over her navel. Spreading
her thighs with his knee, he plunged his fingers deep inside of her, cupping
her in his hand and lifting her until she was barely standing on her toes. She
let go a cry. She was hot and ready. Her muscles tighten and convulsed around
his fingers
drawing
him deep inside of her. What he would give to feel her searing flesh sheathing
his penis.

Sari’s breath hitched in her throat. She was on her toes.
When she tried to roll to her heels, the strength of his arm held her in place,
while the heat of her aroused flesh and the weight of her pressing against his
palm, was pure torture.

Suddenly, she felt his hard arousal pumping against the
crack of her ass. It was long, thick and throbbing.
 
She wanted him so badly
–
wanted him to rip his fingers
from inside of her and let him fill her with it.
 
She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

His fingers slid deeper. His thumb teased the sensitive
flesh of her clit and she instantly felt the titillating quiver deep inside of
her, spreading to every nerve of her body. Then unexpectedly, he slammed his
groin hard against her until her abdomen hit the cold faucet.

She felt the shudder ripple through his body, the pulse of
his penis quickened and his hot semen exploded along the small of her back. The
same electrifying tremor claimed her body as she fell back against him,
writhing with release and a pleasure that left her wanting more of him.

Satiated and to the point of exhaustion, Brady lowered her
feet to the floor and sagged against her. If he survived until the end of the
week he was going to quit his job and move to Australia
–
as far away from Sari as
possible. “
I’m fucked
,” the voice in
his head chided. He was falling hard and fast for her.

CHAPTER SIX

Brady turned the nob to cold then poured a gob of the
oleander body wash into his palm. He found it in her suitcase. Sari had unusual
tastes, he thought. Oleander was not the easiest fragrance to find, but one
that he was growing quite fond of. He worked it into a thick lather. Lifting
the hair from her shoulders, he started at her neck, moving downward and
washing her entire body. He saw that she no longer trembled, but resigned to his
bathing her.

Sari noticed that his touch was gentle, almost
apologetic.
 
She relished every minute,
every sweet stroke, imaging that it was Brady’s hands caressing her.
 
She was suddenly startled when he leaned into
her ear and whispered.

“I’m going to remove the blindfold, Sari. Close your eyes
and don’t try to look at me. You remember the consequences, don’t you?”

Sari shook her head and obeyed. “Yes.”

He was like day and night, she thought. His voice was stern
and demanding while his touch was soft and magical.

Brady untied the blindfold. “Now, close your eyes and keep
your head facing the wall.” Reaching for the shampoo, he dumped a blob into his
palm, and worked his fingers through her hair to her scalp, never taking his
eyes from the back of her head. He rinsed it then repeated the process with
conditioner. Rinsing it for the second time, he combed his fingers through it
–
something that he had wanted to
do for a long time. It was a beautiful color and he was surprised at the length
of it when it was wet.

Sari stood perfectly still while Brady braided her hair and
placed the blindfold over her eyes. The man was a conundrum, she realized. One
moment he was terrifying and in the next he was gentle and sweet. Oddly enough,
she liked both sides of him. Never had a man brought her to orgasm without the
use of his penis. He was exciting in every sense of the word
–a far cry
from her fantasies–and precisely what she needed to fine-tune her writing.

Her musing ended abruptly at the
sound of his voice.

“Let’s get you dress,” he said.

Brady helped her into her robe. He glanced down at the lace
panties in his hand and stuffed them into his pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brady watched Sari eat the bacon and egg sandwich as though
she hadn’t eaten in weeks. A sandwich was probably the easiest for her to
handle with being blindfolded, he reasoned.
 
He waited for her to finish then slid her plate into the sink and lifted
her by the elbow. “We’re going to go outside,” he said.

Sari’s head shot up as she felt the rope being wrapped
around her wrist, one then the other. This time, he didn’t tie them in front of
her, but to the belt of her robe, fastening them so that they were anchored at
her waist. He didn’t want to chance that she would remove the blindfold, she
realized. The
“Phantom of the Opera,”
came
to mind and she smiled. Did he not want her to see his face because he wanted
his identity to remain anonymous, or was he hideous and afraid of scaring her
away?

It didn’t matter
–he was Brady to her.
 
She loved that his slightest touch aroused her, that he worked his
tongue, his mouth, his fingers, teasing and driving her to near surrender, to
the point that her nipples still tingled at the thought of him pinching them,
stimulating them.

“Stop it!”
she told herself.
 
She was
not
going to surrender to him. This was not Brady, but a stranger, a sick and
deranged man who knew way too much about her. The news and documentaries were
filled with stories of women being raped and left in shallow graves… She didn’t
want to think about it. She needed to get away from him. She didn’t want to be
a statistic.

Brady led her to the rocker and lowered her into it.
Returning to the kitchen, he poured himself another cup of coffee. He stared at
her through the window. She was going to be the ruin of him. He’d never be able
to look at another woman, taste her, arouse her, to feel her tremble at his
touch
–
without
thinking of Sari. The wise thing to do would be to take her back this instant
and forget that any of this had ever happened. But he couldn’t, he was enjoying
the game way too much. Yes, he was definitely fucked.

The door opened and Sari heard his boots cross the deck and
stop in front of her. She stiffened, wondering what was going to happen next.
Both fear and anticipation battle for her attention. “What happens if I
surrender to you?” she whispered.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he took her by the arm and led
her back to the bedroom.

Brady restrained her hands, one to each of the posts, then
strolled to his laptop and read through her fantasies. Twenty-four hours hadn’t
even passed and he was feeling the pressure. She wasn’t making it easy on him,
by no means. How far would he have to stretch his limitations before she would
cave in and yield to him?