Unnatural Calamities (8 page)

Zack called a halt at about eight p.m. They’d logged several hundred miles of aimless driving and had ended down in Maryland, near the Pennsylvania border.

He directed Toph, who was driving again, to a Holiday Inn on the edge of a town. Toph got out of the car, stiff and discouraged. Early on he’d figured out Zack was no mastermind, but the man seemed to operate completely on electrical impulses rather than actual brainpower.

If he’d been alone, Toph might have rushed Zack. But he seemed to usually aim the gun at Janey, as if he understood Toph’s protective instinct. Or perhaps he pointed the gun at her for another, simpler reason: because he watched Janey for entertainment purposes.

Toph noticed the leer in Zack’s eyes when the jerk shoved the gun back into his jacket pocket and pressed it against the small of Janey’s back. His other hand reached over and rubbed her rear end again.

Oh hell
, thought Toph. Maybe he’d have to rush the bastard after all.

Chapter Seven

Janey fumed. Unbelievable. Were the people who served the public so jaded that they never expressed any prurient curiosity? She wasn’t surprised the guy in the sex shop where they bought the handcuffs didn’t take the time to gawk at them. But the hotel clerk didn’t even glance at the two men and a woman who asked for one room.

“Here’s an extra twenty for you if you put us somewhere no one else is. We’re gonna party,” said Zack. “Don’t want to disturb the other guests.”

Look up
, Janey silently commanded the pimply hotel clerk.
Stop staring at a computer screen.
Recognize Mr. Bigshot Dunham. Call the police. Please.

Instead the clerk answered a phone and turned his back on them to talk.

Zack nudged the small of Janey’s back with his hidden gun. “Move it.”

Room 210 had the anonymous, clean plastic scent of a mid-rate hotel room. The fair-sized space had two double beds with orange and green spreads, a desk, two bureaus and a big television in a cabinet.

“This is a way finer place than any I’ve crashed lately,” Zack said happily.

He waved the pistol at one of the beds. “Sit down.”

Toph and Janey sat side by side. Janey inched close to Toph. Her thigh touched his solid muscular leg and her heart lifted at once. As long as she had his company, she was nearly sure she could cope.

Zack pulled out the pairs of handcuffs and squinted around the room, frowning as he took inventory.

“The damn bed doesn’t have a headboard. The desk is too lightweight. The TV thing, yeah, but you’d be in the way.”

He forced them into the bathroom, hunting for a spot to cuff them.

“I want to take a dump without an audience so it’ll have to be the TV thing,” he said. “Come on back out.”

“May I use the bathroom?” Janey asked in a small voice. “I mean, to take a shower too?”

Zack leered at her. “As long as I can watch.”

She sighed. “Forget the shower.”

She almost silently locked the door behind her.

“I heard you throw that lock. Fine. You got ten minutes before I do something nasty to Mr. Money-man here,” shouted Zack.

When she came out, Zack let Toph have ten minutes too.

Janey sat on the edge of one of the beds. Zack plopped down on the bed near her, watching her with a broad sleazy grin on his face, as if daring her to move or speak. He stroked the gun with his hand suggestively. Yuck.

Come on, Toph, hurry
. She didn’t think Zack would actually do anything after ten minutes, but she hated being alone with him. That feeling was nothing new. She had always hated it.

Toph took about five minutes. When he emerged from the bathroom, his face and hair were damp, his dark hair slicked back from his face, and he carried his tie and jacket. He’d untucked his shirt and undone its top buttons. He looked like a handsome businessman relaxing after a hard day.

“Sit on the floor,” Zack ordered them both. He tried arranging them, one on each side of the armoire. Then he pushed Toph close to the armoire and Janey over to the desk. All the while he muttered to himself. “All I wanna do is lie on the bed and sleep and watch TV for-flippin-ever.”

At last he handcuffed Janey to the leg of the armoire then cuffed Toph to her other hand.

Zack took a step back and tilted his head as he examined them. “What do you think?”

Janey realized he actually wanted to know if they were comfortable.

“It’s…it’s okay,” she said. She had to lie down on the carpet on her back to be completely comfortable but she didn’t want to make Zack irritated when he seemed in a good mood.

He headed into the bathroom.

As soon as Janey heard the water start for a shower, she used her hand attached to the armoire to feebly yank at its leg, which seemed to be made of some sort of steel.

“Let me,” Toph said.

For a brief second she sensed the warmth and sheer bulk of the man as he climbed over her. The hand cuffed to hers skimmed the edge of her breast.
Oh my good gosh.

“Oops, sorry,” he whispered.

She awkwardly twisted to her side, and with clanking and thumping, they worked together and attempted to lift the thing. It didn’t budge. He drew in his breath and, without brushing against her this time, climbed back over her again.

He slid back and peered behind the large chunky object. “Duh. It’s bolted to the wall.”

Janey carefully twisted her wrist in the handcuffs then flopped down flat on her back. She looked up at him. “I’m so sorry. You were just being a nice guy and…and all this happened. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

Toph settled cross-legged next to her and looked down into her eyes. His smile and that rich dark gaze warmed her.

“Listen, I already told you, none of this is your fault. Zack isn’t human. He’s a phenomenon…a calamity.” With his free hand, he pushed a lock of her unruly hair out of her eyes. She murmured her thanks.

“What I can’t understand is how a man like that produced Rachel,” Toph said thoughtfully.

Janey laughed. It tasted like her first real laugh that day. “I’ve wondered that for years. And you haven’t even met my sister.”

“Does she look like you?”

“We’re identical except her hair is always buzz-cut. And she’s much thinner.”

“So you’re the cute one.”

Unbelievable. Kidnapped, handcuffed, held for ransom by a nut cake, and the man was
flirting
.

She grinned at him like a fool.

Toph shifted, leaning down and toward her. She was wondering if he was about to kiss her when he pushed up his shirt, reached into his back pocket and pulled out the scissors, file and tweezers.

“My damn pockets are too shallow. These’ll show, so where should we stash them? I don’t have a clue if they’ll do us any good. If the light was better, I’d mess around with these cuffs. Do you wear hair pins by any chance?”

“Sorry, no hair pins. How about in the TV cabinet? There’s a hidden place behind there.”

He nodded. To get to the TV he had to climb across her. Again. She didn’t mind in the least. She closed her eyes to enjoy the clean scent of him and the crisp warmth of his shirt as he leaned over her. Her eyes flicked open when his dry, soft lips brush hers.

He hovered a couple of inches above her face. His breath touched her cheek.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Under the circumstances.”

In answer, she pushed her head up to meet his lips again.

With a groan and jangle of handcuffs, they fell into a kiss that stunned Janey. Good glory. It had been six years since she’d done anything even remotely like this and, if she recalled correctly, that experience was nothing as earth shattering as this simple, delicious meeting of mouths and the tentative first exploration with tongues.

The kiss expanded and deepened and grew bolder. The warmth spread to her quickly beating heart, right on down to the base of her belly which almost at once turned thick and heavy with pure, greedy lust. She couldn’t stop the eager sound from her throat.

The shower in the bathroom fell silent.

She looked into Toph’s passion-heated eyes. “My oh my,” she whispered. Not exactly eloquent, but she doubted words mattered. The way they breathed as they stared at each other spoke clearly enough.

“Toph,” she whispered. “Please, once more. Quick, for luck.” He wrapped his free arm around her as he leaned down to obey. She lay on her back, unable to move her hands. A fast, lush and devastating onslaught of his mouth on hers.

They broke apart guiltily as the door to the bathroom opened. Teenagers caught by the parents.

Zack wore a towel that didn’t quite wrap around him as he padded into the room and collapsed on the bed.

“Three hours,” he announced. “I’m gonna sleep three hours.”

Janey swallowed a shriek of terror when two large white things flew into her face. Zack had tossed a couple of pillows to them.

“Want covers, pull ’em off the bed next to you,” Zack mumbled.

He turned on the TV, flipped to ESPN, and promptly fell asleep.

Toph and Janey lay on the floor. He had climbed over her so that their joined hands could rest on her hip and her injured arm wasn’t pressed to the floor. With the pillows and the green and orange spread covering them, she felt surprisingly cozy.

They pushed their bodies together and whispered. Janey was fairly certain Toph discussed various plans to escape from Zack, but the only communication she could plainly understand just then was the one conducted by her skin and other wide-awake organs. Her body clamored that it liked the feel of the warm solid man she leaned against, but it wanted more. It wanted this man. To heck with Zack’s sleeping presence, the uncomfortable handcuffs rubbing at her wrists, the wound on her arm, her vow not to get screwed up by men. None of it mattered. She wanted Toph Dunham in the worst way. And the interesting, hard lump touching her belly told her he wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, befuddled by her hollering hormones. “You want me to put my hand where?”

“Closer to the TV. I think there’s enough light. I’m going to work on this lock.”

“Do you know anything about locks?”

She could swear his smile looked abashed.

“When I was younger I had a set of lock picks.”

She gaped at him open mouthed. “Were you a punk back then?” she breathed. No wonder her chemicals woke up and noticed him.

“No. More of what you might call a punk wannabe.” He bent his head sideways to squint at the lock.

“Kind of like me,” she whispered.

His hair and warm breath tickled her wrist next to the handcuff.
Kiss that spot
, she wanted to demand.
Lick my wrist, my arm. Work your mouth up to my face and mouth and then down to my…

He whispered as he messed with the file and the scissors and the handcuffs. “No. Unlike you, I never let loose with the bad kid stuff. Never had the nerve and I suppose I got along with my parents too well to be a real rebel pain in the ass.”

Not a punk, a nice guy. She waited for the desire to fade away. It always seemed to dissipate when she found out a man was not a basic son of a bitch. Not this time. She could squirm with wanting him, still.

She moaned with joy and need. At last, a good man and she wanted him.

“Hush,” he breathed. “And stop writhing against me like that. God, Janey. You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

“Sorry.” She tried to ride herd on her body, but unfortunately it was in full sexual stampede. “It’s just that. Well. It’s been so long, since. Well, you know.”

“Me too,” his whisper jerked. “Months.”

“Six years. No, closer to seven.” She sighed.

He sat up and gaped at her. In a regular voice that sounded like a shout, even over the noise of the sportscaster, he said, “Six years?”

“Shh.”

He seemed to have forgotten about Zack, the file and the handcuffs. By the glow of the television he stared into her face. With his large eyes and thick brows, Toph’s frowns seemed fiercer than other people’s. “How can a woman like you be unattached?”

“Plenty of good women are,” she whispered.

“Yeah, sure, but you…you ooze sensuality. What is the problem with the men around here?” He sounded almost angry. “Or rather, back home,” he amended.

“It’s not the men. It’s me,” she muttered. “See, the only kind of man I usually want to, um, be with are like our friend Zack. I decided that if that’s what it took to make me feel sexy, I’d rather be a nun.”

His teeth gleamed in the strange blue TV light as he grinned. “I hope I’m no Zack Blair. And you didn’t seem to mind kissing me.”

“Nope. No. Not even a little bit. But…” She was having trouble with her breath just thinking about those kisses and that body next to her.

She wondered if she should tell him the rest. Definitely. She owed it to him to be honest. “But I’m not sure. Maybe that’s cause I’m a sick cookie and it’s the circumstances that make me so hot for you. I think you should know, um, when it comes to relationships, I’m pretty consistently a mess. I’m like my sister, except that I solve the problem by avoiding men and sex altogether.”

“You didn’t feel any attraction to me before Zack started waving the gun around?”

She tried to think back. The morning seemed to have taken place several years earlier and involved other people.

“I can’t remember. I know I liked the look of you the first moment I met you. Definitely.”

“That’s enough to go on,” he whispered cheerily. “I won’t feel used if I let you have your way with me.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You know we’re both crazy if all we can think about is sex,” she said.

“Not me, darlin’, I was thinking about escape too,” he whispered and lightly jangled the handcuff.

True enough. Janey felt hot with embarrassment.

He added, “Of course I was motivated by the idea that then I could really touch you properly.”

Then she only felt hot. She wiggled toward him.

“Whoa, Janey. Come on, back off a bit. We need to get out of here. Think of Rachel and Cynthia.”

He might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

“Oh my good gosh,” she whispered.