Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (59 page)

"The cars will keep people
from seeing us. They
’
ll
block the view," Cindy said.

Jack looked at them, and she was
right. They would provide some privacy.

"Are you on the pill?"
he asked, realizing he didn
’
t have condoms with him.

He
’
d been planning on having sex with her in a nice hotel room with
rose petals and wine and all that romantic stuff he
’
d seen in the movies. He hadn't planned on her surprising him.

Cindy was already nibbling at
his neck and ear. "Yes," she said.

That settled it.

Jack didn
’
t have a blanket or anything to spread beneath
them, but this was one of the few spots where there was grass instead of sand
or rocks, and it was soft.

Jack immediately dropped to his
knees and pressed her down on the bright green grass. Cindy's fingers threaded
through his hair and gripped it tight. Jack grunted, but she pressed her warm
and wet mouth hard against his, and it made the pain vanish, as if she had
magic lips.

Her mouth opened to him, and as
their tongues glided together, Cindy's chest arched up and toward Jack,
pressing her breasts against him. It was the best invitation that could be
given to take her t-shit and bra off.

Cindy' nipples were hard pink
buds in the middle of her areolae, and Jack never got tired of looking at them,
or touching them and watching as the surrounding flesh pebbled with goosebumps.

Then there was Cindy's tiny
moans and panting sighs, sounds that could only be described as pretty—almost
too nice of a word considering what they did to Jack's body. Lust buzzed
through him and made every inch of his skin feel hot and alive. Even Cindy's
fingertips on the back of his neck shot pleasurable bolts down to his cock and
balls, causing his toes to curl.

Jack pulled his hand away from
Cindy's breast to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

Cindy's back arched, and she
groaned while her grip on his hair and back became a little harder. She was
using her nails, but he didn't mind. He felt no pain.

"Jack," Cindy said,
panting. If there was anything else she was going to say, she must've forgotten
all about it as he moved his mouth to her other nipple.

Jack lowered his hands to Cindy
’
s waist as she gripped his hair tighter,
gasping and thrusting her chest forward, spreading her legs and curling them
around Jack's thighs.

She was thrusting her pelvis
against him, searching out friction for her cunt. Holy Christ.

Jack scrambled to put his hand
between her legs and rubbed his hand back and forth firmly but slowly over her
clit. Even with the denim shorts, that touch was enough to make her gasp as he
slid his hand up and down her covered sex.

"Jack," Cindy said, thrusting
her hips to meet his hand, but then didn
’
t say anything else as she groaned and fell back.

He was starting to love how she
repeatedly moaned his name. "Been looking forward to this for a long time."

She smiled at him, still pushing
her fingers through his hair in a motion he really enjoyed. She touched him
everywhere she could get. "Been thinking about it a lot, huh?"

"Hell yes," he said. He
wasn
’
t embarrassed to admit
to it either.

The denim shorts were tight
against her ass and hips. Jack had to flatten his hand against her stomach and
let his palm slide beneath the button and zipper. It barely fit as he searched
for her wet folds. She was partially shaved. She
really had
been planning this. "You
’
re so wet for me,
"
he said.

"Muh huh," Cindy said,
her eyes shut and her head thrown back as Jack pushed his hand up and down her
clit. The few pubic hairs that were near her slit weren't as rough as expected.
They were almost soft. Soon he slid two fingers inside of that slick, wet
space. Despite what practice she'd claimed to have done, she was incredibly
tight, and her walls clamped down on the digits.

His dick pulsed as if her sex
was clamping down on his cock instead.

Cindy suddenly yelped and
squeezed her legs together, almost crushing his hand, but then she opened her
eyes, and her body relaxed.

"Are you okay?" Jack
asked.

"Yeah," Cindy said,
and she was panting again, her hair even wilder than normal. "Keep doing
that."

Jack pulled his hand free
instead. His fingers were slick and shiny with her juices, which made him
smile. He had to get her shorts off before this went any further.

Cindy was helpful, wiggling her
hips and pushing them off her legs as Jack yanked them down, and then he was
leaning over her again, mouthing her nipple as he stroked his fingers through
the wet folds of her sex.

Every moan, every shudder sent
wave after wave of pleasure through Jack
’
s body, and it built up at the small of his back, at the bottom of
his feet, and inside of his cock and balls. If he managed to hold off long
enough to just get inside of her then it was going to be a miracle.

Then Cindy was gripping his shoulder
especially tight, digging her nails into his skin. The pain brought on another
sort of pleasure, and Jack realized she was calling his name, not just because
she was moaning. She was trying to get his attention.

He looked up at her, and fuck
him, she looked like a gorgeous woman who'd already been satisfyingly fucked. "What
is it?" he asked. Jack didn
’
t stop the movement of his hand.

Cindy was panting through her
open mouth. "I want...I want you to put your mouth on me. Down there,"
she said, her eyes glancing down between them.

Down there
.
Such an innocent way to describe it. Jack couldn
’
t help but feel a little playful as he slid down her body. "Tell
me that again," he said.

"I want you to put your
mouth there," she said.

"Right here?" Jack
asked, and he stroked his hand over her wet folds once more just for good
measure. He leaned in close, his mouth inches away from her sex.

The scent of her juices was
heavy in the air. Her musk, proof that she wanted him, was almost too much for
him to handle. The desire to lick her there until she had fistfuls of his hair
and moaning loud was everything, his sole focus. Nothing else in the world
existed but the fact that he wanted to put his lips between her legs and suck
on her until she screamed.

Cindy
’
s eyes dropped shut. She was close already. "Yes,
right there."

"But you have to tell me,"
Jack said.

Cindy opened her eyes and stared
down at him, like she didn
’
t
understand what this was about. "I did. I did tell you," she said,
and then she shivered again as Jack leaned in and pressed a brief kiss between
her legs, but he pulled back again before she could get much pleasure out of
it.

"Tell me in a way that I
can understand," Jack said.

He could see it in her eyes the
second she understood him. Her face became even redder, but she was still so
damned gorgeous. "I...I want you to go down on me. Suck on my clit,"
she said, just in case the first way she said it wouldn
’
t be good enough.

It was definitely good enough. "Your
wish is my command," Jack replied, dipping his head and pressing his mouth
to her wet cunt.

Cindy arched her spine and
grabbed onto Jack
’
s hair as
she groaned, and the second he slipped his tongue inside, licking her deep and
tasting her finally, he could feel her inner muscles clamping down on him in a
tight and pulsing grip as she came hard.

He didn
’
t stop sucking or licking her. He let her ride
his face, ride him until she was slumped down and blinking blearily, red hair
spread all over the place.

Jack was suffering from what had
to be the worst case of blue balls that he
’
d ever had in his entire life, but he was also smiling wide as he
slid up her body.

"Sorry," she said, as
if she'd disappointed him or something. "I was hoping to go a little
longer before that happened."

Jack leaned in and kissed her,
and he was pleased when she immediately opened her mouth for his tongue,
tasting herself on his mouth. He wanted to make sure she savored how damned
good she was.

He didn
’
t pull back until he was satisfied she
’
d gotten enough. "We
’
re nowhere near done yet," he said.

Cindy grinned at him, but then
her grin melted away. The light in her eyes went out, and her grip on him was
so tight that he wouldn't have been shocked to look down and see that her
knuckles had turned bone white. "I'm a pyro," she said, and then, as
if she'd felt the need to prove it, she held up her hand and willed a small,
but strong wisp of fire to appear in her palm.

Jack stared at her, then at the
flame, and back at her. His heart literally stopped for a few seconds, a
painful sensation, and he had no fucking idea what he was supposed to do.

He
didn't say anything right away. He couldn't think of what
to
say. The flame in Cindy's hand went out as she immediately
started to cry.

* * *

Jack sighed and pressed his
forehead against the cold tile wall of the shower. His hand gripped his cock in
a tight fist as the last of his orgasm shuddered out of him.

He didn't stop the motion of his
hand. He worked his erection until every drop of cum, every ounce of pleasure,
was released from his body. Only then did the muscles in his shoulders and
back, the ones he hadn't even realized were tensing up, relax.

Then the regret sank in.

Jerking off to that memory had been
kind of unexpected. It said a lot about him, that he could still get off on the
memory of the woman who'd tricked him, but he couldn't help himself.

The second his body had been under
the hot spray, her face was all he could think about, followed by memory of how
her skin had felt as he'd fought her in the car. Much more pleasant memories
came after that, like their first time having sex together. It was bad enough
that Jack could masturbate to a woman who'd killed his family, but at least he
wasn't the sort of pervert who would do it to the thought of an unconscious
woman who had just been fighting to get away from him.

Jack quickly washed away his cum
from the shower wall, and then he started soap himself off, pretending as if
nothing had happened at all. She didn't have to know about it. No one did. So
it wasn't like it mattered anyway.

Chapter
Five

Cindy listened to the water run
through the pipes in the house. Jack must be in the shower, which was the only
reason she was picturing him naked.

But then she thought about the last
time they'd had sex, and how calm and serene his face had been when he'd kissed
her.

Why the hell was she thinking about
that
? It didn't help that it aroused her either. Her blood flowed hot,
down to lower places that caused all sorts of problems, especially considering
she was in chains.

Maybe it meant she secretly had an
S&M fetish of some kind. Maybe it meant she was the kind of girl who got
turned on when she was chained up. But now was definitely not the time to be
exploring her sexuality

Was it longing? That was most
likely it. She was longing for a time back when she had everything her heart
desired, and life didn
’
t seem
quite as grim as what those other paranormals had painted for her. Especially
when Jack had hugged and kissed her after her confession—and embarrassing bout
of crying—telling her everything would be okay, and that he would keep her
secret.

She and Jack did end up going all
the way that day. After she'd managed to stop crying and the mood returned to
what it had been before she'd rudely interrupted it.

They
’
d lain together and talked about all the things they were going to
do, and then Jack made slow love to her again, and Cindy thought she would die
from happiness.

Cindy was trying to summon her fire
now while Jack was busy upstairs. He'd probably already called the collectors
to bring her in.

No fire came. No hopeful little
spark. Her skin didn't even glow or get warmer. She might as well have been
normal.

She'd heard of some vampires and
werewolves putting spelled cuffs on themselves in order to go out in the
daylight, or stop a transformation during the full moon, but the difference was
they kept the keys with them at all times. Some had the cuffs fashioned into
bracelets. Cindy was stuck.

As much as she hated her powers
sometimes, she felt naked without them. It was enough to make her struggle
against the shackles around her wrists. She tried to fold in her thumb as much
as possible to squeeze the damned thing off. When that didn
’
t work, only causing her to bleed a little,
she tried to summon a flame again.

The chains worked great though, and
she still couldn't summon any fire. Even though she had much better control of
her powers now than when she was young, nothing came. Maybe if she had some of
these shackles made into bracelets growing up she might not have been kicked
out of her parents house on her ninth birthday.

She had to keep thinking. There had
to be another way to get out of here. She was in chains inside a concrete room.
Her powers were gone, and the metal ring holding her chains to the concrete was
pretty secure. Not even the slightest wiggle.

Jack had planned for everything.

It took Cindy another few minutes
to realize that there wasn't even an air duct in the room with her.
Oh God
.
Her heart pounded as she thought about her oxygen depleting. She yanked on her
chains some more, pulled at the metal ring that was drilled into the wall, but
still couldn't break free, and her wrists bled some more. The pain was better
than thinking about suffocating.

Jack wouldn't let her die in here,
would he?

Cindy began to hyperventilate. She
balled herself up as small as she could as the air in her lungs literally felt
like it was being stolen from her.

The door to her prison slammed
open. Jack walked in.

Cindy stared up at him. She watched
him, and noted how he didn't shut the door behind him. She could breathe again.
She sighed and slumped against the wall.

Jack had a tray in his hand with
food on it, and that was about when she realized how hungry she was. How long
had it been since he'd taken her? She didn't even know how long she'd been
inside of that horrible box.

"Please," she said,
wincing as she remembered his no speaking rule. Too late now. "How long
have I been here?"

Jack didn't just have a tray of
food with him; he was also carrying a small folding stool under one arm. He
walked across the small room, right to the other side where she wouldn't be
able to reach him. "It's almost noon," he replied, and sat down
before arranging the tray on his knees.

He certainly looked better than the
last time she'd seen him. The colour had returned to his cheeks—though he still
hadn't shaved—and he was wearing clean clothes. Jeans with a long sleeved dark
shirt. His hair looked slightly damp. He'd showered.

"Noon," Cindy said,
turning over those words in her head. Nearly fourteen hours, and she'd had
nothing to eat since before six yesterday, nearly twenty-four hours ago.

She stared at the tray on his legs.
He had a sandwich on it, something thick with turkey and bacon, what looked
like a small plastic container of potato salad that came from the grocery
store, and a bottle of water.

The sandwich was cut into fours,
and Jack took one of them and bit into it. "Hungry?" he asked.

Of course she was. Cindy nodded.

Jack took another bite. "The
collectors won't be here for another two or three days. Something bigger came
up," he said. "If you want to eat while you're here then you're going
to earn your food."

Cindy swallowed hard. Her mind was
racing about the few ways she could earn a meal with a man who hated her guts. "Earn
it how?"

Jack shrugged. He was putting a
look on his face that suggested how little he cared about this whole thing, but
he was never very good about hiding things from her. Whatever he was thinking
about, it was bothering him.

"You can start by telling me
where you were going last night."

For what had to be the tenth time
in just so many hours, Cindy's heart stopped. She wasn't telling him about
Jamie. No way in hell.

"I was just going out by
myself," she said. "Dancing, you know?"

"Hoping to meet someone?"

"Maybe."

"Liar." Jack glared at
her, and he finished off the triangle of sandwich he was eating. "Fine,
I'll figure it out eventually anyway."

"Jack—"

"
Be quiet
," he
snapped, and his glare intensified. She almost thought he could burn through
her with a look like that, and he wasn't the one with fire powers.

Cindy knew what he was thinking
about. It wasn't the fact that she wasn't answering him that was really
bothering him. "I didn't kill your family, Jack."

"Bull-
fucking
-shit,"
he barked, and Cindy had never seen so much hatred in those blue eyes.

"I didn't! I swear I didn't!"

Jack hurled his water bottle at her
before Cindy could say another word. She ducked her head, and luckily the
bottle missed. It was just one of the thin and cheap plastic things, but it was
full of water, and with the force that Jack had thrown it, if it had gotten her
head, then it would have hurt like crazy.

Cindy barely dared to lift her head
away from the protection of her arms to look at him. Her cheek throbbed, a
reminder that Jack had already struck her once. She was sure he would do it again.

"Fuck," Jack cursed, then
shot to his feet, knocking over the rest of the sandwich, and the tray
clattered to the ground.

He rubbed his hands over his face
and paced in a full circle around the room before stopping in front of her.

"My house was burned to the
ground, Cindy.
Burned
to the
ground
! With me and my family inside
of it, right after I told you..." He trailed off, looked away from her,
and then bit his lips before speaking again in that dangerous tone. "Don't
tell me it wasn't you."

He wasn't going to believe her.
Jack's fists were clenched tight, and his body trembled. He was holding back by
a thread.

She kept her mouth closed and just
watched him, waiting.

The shaking in his shoulders
eventually stopped, and his body relaxed ever so slightly. Jack blew out a long
breath. He ran his fingers through his blond hair, causing the short strands to
stick up in several places. He bent over and started to pick up the ruined
sandwich off the floor, but he nudged the container of potato salad toward her.
"I'll be back later," he said, and then he left her again.

Cindy stayed where she was. She
didn't move and just hugged her knees to her chest.

She stared at the little cup of
potato salad, and the bottle of water that hadn't rolled too far away. Cindy didn't
want to eat anything that had been kicked toward her, or drink something that
had been thrown at her.

Her growling stomach and dry throat
eventually won over her crumbling willpower, and she reached for the water and
the salad.

She consoled herself with the
thought that both the water bottle and the cup of potato salad were still
sealed, so it wasn't like she would be eating or drinking something dirty.

The only downside was that she had
to pull the potato salad out of the container with her fingers, because Jack
had been too angry to think of leaving her a fork.

Maybe he didn't trust her enough to
have one.

At least he left the door open so
she didn't have too worry about suffocating.

She was going to get out of here.
She hadn't done anything wrong, and she wasn't going to let Jack hurt her for
something she didn't do. She had to think and plan. Luckily it seemed she was
going to have more time for that… as long as Jack hadn't been lying to her
about the collectors.