TheFugitivesSexyBrother (17 page)

“Sit cross-legged,” Javier said, once she’d taken her place
and fastened the seatbelt.

She raised an eyebrow, but she obeyed, the subtle force of
his control settling over her like a snug embrace. Javier leaned down into her
lap, his lips teasing her clit through her pants. He lapped it through the
material, his tongue hot and wet even through the barrier. Emily closed her
eyes and arched her back, embarrassed about their surroundings but too aroused
to tell him to stop.

He opened her pants with one hand. “I can smell you,” Javier
whispered.

“That’s because I’m really turned on,” Emily returned, the
words complete with a bratty eye roll.

Metal clinked and a cold, hard band closed around her right
ankle. She jumped, alarm pouring through her despite her trust for him. Javier
moved his head out of the way, allowing her to see one side of the handcuffs
she’d used on him, encircling her right ankle. The other side rested in his
open palm. “If you don’t want this, you can still kick my ass. Or tell me to
stop.” Javier studied her with a half-smile on his face. “Or you can trust me
and enjoy the ride.”

She worked to catch her breath. She could hear her pulse
racing in her ears. “I’ve never let anyone restrain me before.” Desperation
came through clearly in her voice.

“You’ve never been restrained?”

“Well, Matthew used to tie me up sometimes. He’d make me
surrender to it. We’d fight it out until he overpowered me.”

Javier’s face hardened. “Do you mean he tied you up against
your will?”

“No! We had a safeword that I could have used.” She squeezed
her eyes shut for a moment. She had wanted to use the safeword sometimes but
hadn’t wanted to admit defeat to Matthew. She wasn’t about to tell that to
Javier though. It would complicate matters too much. She looked for a better
way to explain. “I needed him to force me to accept the rope. I couldn’t just
lie there and let him put it on me.”

Javier touched her chin. “Emily. It turns me on to control
you, but only because I know you’re choosing to let me. I’m never going to ‘overpower’
you. I probably wouldn’t be able to. But even if I could, I don’t think that’s
what dominance is about.” He trailed one finger over her ankle, bringing her
attention back to the metal locked around it. “Dominance is about you trusting
me. If I had to force you to accept the rope, I’d think it meant you weren’t
ready to be tied. I would wait until you were. Do you understand?”

Emily took a deep breath and nodded.

“You scared me a little the day I spanked you. I felt like
you would let me beat you to a pulp before you asked me to stop. I started out
wanting to tease you and at some point I realized I had to protect you from
yourself.”

“I love you too,” Emily said, then wanted to laugh because
she felt as stunned as Javier looked.

“I thought we just finished talking about how you weren’t
ready to say that.”

Emily touched the handcuffs pointedly. “Sometimes just
knowing someone would wait until you’re ready makes you ready,” she said. “Put
them on me, Javier. Please.”

A slow grin spread over his face. “As you wish.” He slipped
her pants and panties down off her body, guiding them carefully over the
handcuff attached to her ankle. She didn’t think anyone in the parking lot
could see her considering the angle of the window, but she still felt exposed
with her pubic hair waving in response every time the air moved inside the car.

Next, Javier took her left wrist and snapped the other cuff
on, trapping Emily in at least half of her cross-legged position. It was a
clever way to restrain her and she shivered with the sense of helplessness it
gave her. If she tried to move, she’d be off-balance and easy to control.
Javier kissed her forehead. “How are you doing?”

She smiled bravely. “Good.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, I’m going to assume you want to put
your pants back on before we walk back into your building.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And they’re not going to go on very well while your leg is
attached to your arm like that.”

“So I need to get these handcuffs off.”

Javier’s smile showed a lot of teeth. “Oh I’m not going to
let you have anything that could be used to pick locks. You’re going to have to
convince me to take them off.”

Another jolt of arousal quivered through her body. “What
would convince you?”

“Well, I took your pants off because I want to see you come.
A lot. But.” Here he paused and smiled wickedly. “I’m going to be too busy
driving to make you come myself. If you’re very good and come three times
before we get to your apartment, then I’ll take the handcuffs off and give you
back your pants before I take you inside.”

Emily worried she’d drip onto the seat. “And if I don’t?”

“It’s going to be really interesting to see how you move
when you’re restrained like that, isn’t it?” Javier started the car while Emily
gaped. “Hey, I was nice,” he added. “You’re right-handed, and that’s the one I
left free. Imagine if you were trying to bring yourself off three times with
your non-dominant hand.”

“You are a bastard.” Emily slipped her right hand between
her legs. She’d gotten so wet that her clit eluded her touch, slipping out from
under her finger when she tried to rub it. The car jerked as Javier drove,
making her task even more difficult. “Why are you driving so fast?”

“I think the look on a cop’s face seeing you like that would
be worth the speeding ticket. And better yet, I think I know a shortcut back to
your place.”

Emily glared at him, but she knew she couldn’t afford to let
him distract her for too long. Not if she was going to have three orgasms in
the space of twenty minutes. She pinched her clit, much more directly than
would have been comfortable if she weren’t so wet. She squeezed her labia
around it and used them to rub it. She smeared her palm through her soaking
folds and ground the heel of her hand against her clit.

At that point, she discovered another problem. She was as
aroused as hell, but both her legs really wanted to straighten as she climbed
toward orgasm. She wanted to bring her left hand up to her breast but the
handcuffs would have turned that into an extraordinarily unnatural position.
Emily growled her frustration and noticed that Javier was laughing at her while
driving.

“The more you do that, the faster I want to get you home,”
he said. “I think you would look so cute hopping toward your apartment door
with your thighs all sloppy.”

His taunt actually helped her. The image of stumbling to the
apartment door naked flushed through her and brought orgasm with it. Emily
groaned with pleasure now, the force of the sensation making her tug at her
restraints, emphasizing Javier’s control over her.

“That was beautiful,” Javier said. “A couple of truck
drivers liked it too. I think they had a pretty good view from above.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you when you say things like
that.”

“I can say things like that because I trust
you
to
put a stop to this if you’re not having fun.” He flicked on the car’s turn
signal. “You’d better hurry, Emily. You’ve got two orgasms to go, and I’m about
to get off the highway.”

“Bastard!”

“You already said that.”

Emily closed her eyes and searched frantically for her
sexiest fantasies. Something about Javier tying her up for days, a vibrator
resting on her clit but falling away every time she bucked toward it, only to
be replaced every time she stilled herself again. Him sucking her nipples until
she begged to be filled, but then giving her his cock only to kiss. Her body
pulsing and aching for him until she thought she would come in midair. When he
finally knelt between her legs, he would push into her so slowly she would feel
every millimeter of his skin as her body accepted him and pulled him in deep.

The fantasy took hold in the fertile ground of the residual
pleasure that still throbbed through her clit. A languid, bottomless orgasm
pulsed under her fingers and spread until it reached the farthest points of
every finger and toe.

“That one was fast,” Javier said.

Emily could only gasp in reply. Aftershocks curled her hips
up rhythmically. She forgot the handcuffs and tried to adjust her leg, only to
be sharply reminded of her situation.

“I think you’ve actually got a chance at this. But you’ll
have to hurry, because we’re two streets away.”

Emily jerked up, glancing wildly out of the car window.
Javier was right. They’d almost reached her apartment. She rubbed her clit hard
and fast again, trying to gain a last orgasm by riding her aftershocks up to a
higher level of pleasure. She held her breath and struggled for it, knowing she
was running out of time and not entirely sure whether she wanted to succeed or
fail. Her wrist ached. Sweat poured off her forehead. Her hard nipples brushed
against the inside of her bra as she moved. She brushed the right one with the
inside of her arm.

The last orgasm was close. She needed just a little more
sensation, but her right hand couldn’t move any faster. She groaned
unashamedly, reaching for it. If she could just pinch her left nipple, she
could come, but even with her flexibility she couldn’t lift her left hand into
place.

Then Javier’s fingers closed around the nipple, as if he
were a mind reader. He squeezed and twisted to perfection, and Emily cried out
her appreciation, the third climax tearing through her with raw edges and
shimmering glory.

“Thank you,” she gasped as soon as she could manage it. Then
she realized the car had stopped. She sat up and glanced around. They sat in
the parking lot outside her building. Javier watched her with a big grin. She
blinked and wiped her face against her right sleeve. “Did that count? Did I
win?”

Javier’s smile widened even further. He winked. “Which is
more fun for you? Winning or losing?”

Matthew lifted the outside screen out of the window frame
and set it down on the ground beside him. Before going to work on the window,
he paused to wipe his nose. Someone really wanted this house to look cute,
enough to plant all kinds of things in the yard that he was allergic to. Thanks
to the time of year, he was more than ankle-deep in dead leaves. He sighed and
slid a tool into the window so he could undo the latch.

Technically, this was illegal as hell. He could break and
enter if it was a target’s house, and if he was sure the quarry was inside.
Friends and family of the target were a different story. Fortunately for him,
most of them didn’t know that. Besides, by the time he worked over Carolina
Mendes enough to get Fernando Bonavita’s location out of her, she’d be too
afraid of him to pursue legal action.

The window catch released. Matthew jimmied it open and sized
up the space he’d created. It wouldn’t be comfortable to squeeze through, but
he thought he could do it.

He breathed out slowly, collapsing his chest and lungs as
much as possible as he did. He reached through with his arms first, groping for
something to use for leverage. Luck was on his side. He found a narrow table.
He gripped the sides of it and settled his torso in the window frame.

He had to tug himself through inch by inch, and one
protruding nail found its way under his T-shirt and left a long gash on his
upper arm. Still, after a brief struggle, he popped the last of himself into
the house, turning the motion into a smooth roll across the tile floor.

Inside, the place smelled of flowers and dish detergent. The
woman who lived here had decorated for fall, hanging deep orange curtains and
putting out a tablecloth embroidered with harvest leaves. A vase sat in the
center of the table. He didn’t recognize the flowers. The depth of their color
surprised him. He hadn’t realized flowers came that way. He sniffed. She
probably had closets full of linens, a set for each season. She probably bought
candles with scents like pumpkin pie and ocean breeze.

Matthew tried to imagine a woman like that with scum like
Fernando Bonavita. He’d pictured someone trashy, and a place littered with
dirty halter tops that smelled of cheap perfume. He hadn’t expected to find a
home straight out of a fantasy.

A car engine sounded in the driveway. Matthew ducked under
the kitchen table, hiding under the long skirt of the tablecloth. A key turned
in the door. Footsteps came down the hall. Matthew barely breathed, overcome
with curiosity about the woman who had captured Fernando Bonavita’s heart.

A pair of baggy scrubs came into view, mostly covering a
pair of sensible rubber-soled shoes. A disappointment. Matthew didn’t let it
stop him. He waited until she came within easy reach of the table. When he knew
he could get to her with one motion, he leaped, overturning the table and
taking her down to the tiled floor. He made sure to cradle the back of her
head, since a concussion wouldn’t serve his purposes. Other than that, he
allowed her to feel the full pain of the impact, and his weight crashing onto
her to squeeze that much more air from her lungs. The vase shattered on the
floor behind them.

She struggled but obviously wasn’t trained as a fighter. He
held her down easily, pinning both her hands with one of his. Matthew leaned
back and studied her face. Lovely, but he didn’t see the appeal for a man whose
money and connections could win him almost any woman he wanted. Her cheeks were
too round compared to, say, Emily.

One thing he respected—she didn’t scream. She only waited,
watching him. He wondered what she saw. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Matthew
said, “as long as you cooperate.”

She hauled off and spat in his face. More spunk than her
appearance suggested, but he should have expected that. He used his free hand to
trap her hair, preventing her from moving her head. “You’re not going to be
able to get away from me,” he said.

“What do you want?” Her voice was more purr than growl. She
was nothing to be afraid of.

“Fernando Bonavita.”

“You’re crazy.” But she paled.

Matthew smiled, letting her take a little more weight. “I
have it on good authority that you know him. You sure you don’t?”

She didn’t answer.

Matthew gave her a light slap. “Do you think he’d come after
you? Or were you just a one-night stand?” He didn’t let her turn her face away.
“Someone seemed to think you were very important to him. Do you know how to get
in touch with him?”

Still nothing. Brave woman. Matthew would have to step up
the intimidation. He retrieved restraints from the pouch at his waist and
fastened them around her wrists with deft fingers. Then he dragged her to the
kitchen by the hair, heedless of the glass that crunched beneath his boots. He
opened the cabinets one by one. “You’ve got a lot of nice china in here,” he
said. “I’d hate to have to break it all.”

She watched him impassively, but he saw the way she flinched
when he lifted the first plate. He let it fall so she would know he was
serious. “I don’t know what kind of person I’d be if I gave a man up over a set
of china,” she said sharply.

“So you do know him. Thanks for telling me that.”

A childish trick, but her face fell when he pointed out her
supposed betrayal. She watched him break the rest of her china without another
word, but as he removed the last few dishes, he saw tears start in her eyes.

“You liked those, didn’t you? You obviously care a lot about
your house. You wouldn’t want to watch me break every single item in here,
would you? But I will if you make me do it.”

She set her jaw and stared at him. She made no effort to
wipe away the water that trickled down her face. Guilt flashed through him. She
stood defiant and magnificent, her stoic resistance finally revealing the
qualities that must have entranced his quarry. He didn’t allow the emotion to
soften him. He needed this too much. Without the money from this job, he could
lose the Lotus. Considering the calls he’d been getting from Sergio over the
past several days, though, he had a lot more to worry about than his beloved
car. Like his toenails and the integrity of his kneecaps.

“You know Fernando Bonavita,” Matthew said. “You’ve already
admitted that. Why make it harder on yourself? Just tell me how to get in touch
with him and your house stays pretty, and so do you.” He had the smile to match
this last threat, broad and bloodthirsty.

“I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not telling you
anything.” She spoke with quiet certainty, not bravado.

Matthew let the triumph show on his face. “You’re bad at
this game, sweetheart. You’ve just told me you
do
know how to reach Fernando
Bonavita. Now it’s simply a matter of finding where you’ve put the
information.” He paused, examining her dismayed but determined expression.
“Let’s hope for your sake that it’s not in that stubborn head of yours.”

He pulled her through the house by the restraints until he
found a computer tucked into the corner of a tidy master bedroom. A thin
monitor perched birdlike atop a neat desk with slim drawers and another vase of
flowers. Matthew paused before it. He spoke his thoughts aloud so her face would
give him hints of whether he’d found the right track. “I could make you turn
that on so we can look through files, but you’re not that kind of girl, are
you? I’m thinking you probably wrote down whatever you know about how to reach
him. So drawers it is.”

Carolina seemed worried. A good sign. Matthew examined the
room for a good place to hitch her. Long posts adorned the corners of the bed,
almost taller than he was. He lifted Carolina and threaded her restraints over
one of them. He left her sitting on the bed. If she tried to work herself free,
he’d definitely hear the sound of her climbing up.

The first drawer contained photographs in sheet protectors,
many of people he didn’t recognize, and some of Carolina, but also a number of
Fernando Bonavita. Matthew pulled them eagerly from the desk. The criminal,
shirtless, hanging doors onto cupboards in the kitchen, smiling over his
shoulder at the person taking the photo. Or sitting down before a fabulous
repast of roast turkey and side dishes, his hands folded as if in prayer. A
close-up of his face, gazing at the camera with a sort of naked vulnerability
that Matthew found unsettling.

He tossed the images in Carolina’s direction. “He’ll come
looking for you, all right. You didn’t tell me he played handyman here. I
should break down those cabinet doors just to piss him off.”

Carolina lifted her chin, but he noticed the way her eyes
caressed the photographs. Whatever they had was serious.

The second drawer contained an address book made of orange
leather stamped with a flower on the cover. Matthew grinned and opened it. On
the first page, he found a holiday gift list. Fernando’s name appeared at the
bottom, followed by a question mark. He displayed the find to her. “Trouble in
paradise?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Matthew flipped to the
appropriate section of the alphabet. He recognized the contact information
there—Bonavita’s house, cell phone and landline. All useless by now. He
frowned, concerned that the question mark on her gift list indicated that she didn’t
know how to find him either.

Matthew decided to bluff. He snapped the book shut with
finality and turned back to Carolina. “He abandoned you, didn’t he? Probably
ran off with another woman. Another lover in another port. I guess you really
don’t know where he is. Sorry about the china.”

Carolina relaxed her face and body. Too much. He had missed
something in the desk, something that had her very concerned.

Matthew grinned, purposefully showing his teeth. “I’ll just
take a closer look at this drawer where I found the address book, to be sure…”
This woman would play poker quite poorly. Panic shrouded her face like a veil.
The drawer held the key.

Now that he knew where to focus, Matthew took his time,
sitting cross-legged and going through items one by one. He found nothing as
obvious as an address book, but he could be patient. Carolina wasn’t going
anywhere.

He removed knickknacks, notes and colorful pens, stacking
them on the floor beside him. When the drawer sat empty, he turned toward
Carolina and spoke aloud again. “Not in here, but I saw how nervous I made you
when I started looking at this. You seem like a nice lady. No one would suspect
you of anything. But if you’re as close to Fernando as it looks like you are,
you have to know you’re dating a criminal.” The woman’s neck flushed, her brown
skin warming and gaining rose tones. Matthew nodded. “Maybe you came up with
something you thought would be clever. Like taping the information to an odd
place.” She hung her head. She might have been crying again.

Matthew’s heart pounded in his chest. His ticket out of
trouble seemed certain. Turning back to the drawer, he slid it off his tracks
and flipped it over. On the underside he found a sheet of notebook paper, with
instructions printed on it in purple block letters. He gave a little sound of
celebration, and for the first time Carolina’s sobs became audible.

“Wow, this is complicated,” Matthew said aloud, staring at
the step-by-step breakdown of how to access an encrypted dropbox. Normally,
he’d take this sort of thing to Neva, but after their last encounter he
suspected he’d plowed that field for all it was worth. “This is some real spy
stuff you’ve got here, woman. We’re going to have to take our time and figure
it out together.”

Matthew didn’t like computers. He preferred doing his work
the old-fashioned way, with strength, intimidation and the ability to read a
person. Everyone placed too much stock in devices these days. He’d suspected
many times that this had to do with Guy’s recent snubs. His boss had forgotten
the power of muscle and tradition and entrusted too much to a couple of chicks
with email accounts.

In this case, however, if this woman could understand these
instructions, so could he. Matthew took a deep breath and concentrated. The
notes tangled and confounded him and Carolina certainly wasn’t any help. An
hour and a half later, after a few false starts and nearly getting locked out
of the system, he accessed Fernando Bonavita’s hidden trove.

Messages filled the screen, some addressed to Carolina and
some to Javier Bonavita. He noted that neither of them had replied. Matthew
opened one at random and whistled. He read aloud.

“Carolina, my love, I’ve got no right to expect you to
respond to me or even see this, but I can’t restrain myself from the need to
tell you how I feel. I’ve gone over and over the time I spent with you, and the
opportunities I had to tell you the truth. I have no excuse. I lured you in
under false pretenses, and if I live to be a hundred, I will never have time
enough to make that up to you. Even if you are finished with me, I want you to
know how deeply I apologize. I hope you log in at least once and see that much.
On the other hand, if you are not finished with me…” Matthew stopped reading,
scanning down the rest of the page. Fernando had segued into an explicit sexual
fantasy involving a set of nipple clamps, a plastic comb, a strip of velvet and
a pair of silk ties. Matthew’s cock stirred despite himself.

He glanced back to Carolina, sizing her up afresh. “I
wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into the things he’s describing. There’s a lot
more to you than meets the eye.”

“You’re an asshole,” she said.

“He loves you though. He is head over heels, ready to marry
you if you would let him. I also wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to
hold out when a man felt that way about you.”

“He lied to me,” Carolina returned, then immediately looked
as though she regretted it.

“Well, he’s sorry.” Matthew smirked. “New plan. I’m going to
help you work out this relationship. You’ll come with me, and together we’ll
write a nice email telling him all about where you are and what he can do if he
ever wants the chance to see you again.”