Sweet Abduction (13 page)

Riley

My body hums with electricity as I leave the arena. People shout and cheer and I shake a few hands before exiting through double doors. After a fight, I’m always hopped up on adrenalin and even though my focus is laser sharp I don’t want to answer any questions from the fans.

Turning the corner I’m met with the last person I expect to see.

Dane Mathews. He’s leaning against the wall, his hands tucked in his pockets. He pushes off the wall and straightens. His expression is grim, resolute and I’m trying to figure out what the fuck he wants.

“Congratulations, Riley,” he says. “You’ve done what you set out to do.”

Ivan’s a few paces behind and eyes Dane suspiciously. “Who’s this?”

“Leah’s stepbrother.”

Ivan says nothing but squints as he stares at Dane. Ivan can look pretty fierce when he needs to and Dane is suitably impressed.

“I saw Leah,” Dane says. “I don’t think she saw me but she looks better than I’ve ever seen her.”

I almost smile. I can’t think of her and not feel possessiveness grip me. I don’t care what happens from this point forward with anything except my life with her. That’s the only thing I’m fighting for now. I want to woo and seduce my wife and show her how good we can be together.

“Charlotte told me that you’re crazy about Leah. Protective.”

Dane talking about my feelings for Leah is trippy. I haven’t spoken to him in years and when I’ve thought about him, I imagine finishing the fight that changed everything. Not anymore. I no longer want to land a punch squarely on his jaw, one that would render him unconscious before he even hit the mat.

“I
am
crazy about her,” I tell him. “And yeah, I do want to take care of her.”

“She also told me that you give a lot of money to her Dad’s charity. She checked the donor list and found that the
Fight For Kids Foundation
is your baby. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“What? Feelings?”

“A willingness to give. Concern for someone other than yourself. I’ve never read anything about that. Why don’t you publicize that?”

I just look at him. The dumb ass that cheated me out of a football career is talking to me about publicity. All I want to do is find Leah. He sees the look in my eye and moves on.

“I’m here to apologize. If you’ll accept it.”

I tilt my head and study his expression. He seems earnest so I nod, letting him fill the silence.

He runs his fingers through his hair and winces with discomfort. “I am sorry. I’ll make a public statement if you like.”

A public statement. Wouldn’t that make Miranda furious? It amuses me to imagine her seething over her son’s disloyalty. That’s how she’d see it too.

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter anymore, Dane. No need to say anything.”

He draws a deep breath and shifts his weight around with evident discomfort like there’s more he wants to say. I don’t really want to chat with Dane Mathews the night of my last fight. I don’t want to talk with anyone really and I still have to give a quick interview after I get cleaned up.

All I want to do is get home. Leah should already be in the car by now, heading that way. In an hour, Ivan will drive me home and that can’t come soon enough.

“Maybe we can talk some other time,” I say.

A little of the tension in my shoulders slips away and I’m surprised to note the sense of relief. I’ve carried around my resentment towards Dane for so long I never even noticed how tightly it wrapped around me. I don’t need the ill-will anymore. The feeling won’t serve me if I’m not fighting, and even more importantly, Leah has asked me to set aside my grudge.

“Really?” Like he can’t believe it.

“Sure.” Dane has changed. I can tell he’s a different man than three years ago. Amazing what the right woman can do to a man.

“Miranda tried one last time to get Leah to come back. I know that they spoke tonight.”

In the moments after the fight, I saw Leah talking to someone and I realize now that it was Miranda. Warning bells go off in my mind.

“Cancel the interview,” I tell Ivan. “I need to go home.”

Ivan’s jaw drops and he mutters something in Russian. “That was for the French magazine. They’re paying you a-”

“Fuck ‘em, I don’t care about that anymore.” Leah’s right. We don’t need any of this shit and I sure don’t want to spend any more time away from her. Not even a minute.

Fuck. I have a bad feeling about this like maybe I’m already too late. I picture an empty house. Leah gone. I try to tamp down the worry. She wouldn’t leave. Not Leah. Not now.

I hear Ivan, explaining that the interview has been canceled. I shower as quickly as I can. I’m not sweaty. The damn fight was over in seconds, but I want to wash away all traces of the fight and the arena. My work is dirty and I’ve always needed a buffer between the ring and home. Usually, I take a good, long shower, but I want to get home as quickly as possible. Miranda was here at the arena tonight and whenever that woman steps into my life, everything goes to shit.

Leah

When the driver drops me off at home, the house feels deserted and I walk around, lost and strangely bereft. I expected someone to be home. I don’t know who exactly. Something about Riley, I imagine worst case scenarios, Like spending the night alone here while Riley celebrates. Without me.

I wander up to my room and sit on the edge of my bed. Dane has been trying to call me but I don’t answer. I can’t handle more interference right now. The letter Miranda gave me is tucked in my purse. I take it out. It’s just an envelope but it feels so significant. So substantial. I might open it and have my hopes and dreams dashed. Maybe I should open it when Riley gets home.

Unable to resist, I tear it open and draw out a single sheet of paper. It’s a neatly typed list of Riley’s arrests or run-ins with the law, six in all, and they extend back to when he was ten. Arson. Disorderly conduct. Threatening a police officer. Most of them occurred before we met, but two happened in the last year. He wasn’t arrested but he was brought in for questioning and the charges were dropped.

At the bottom of the list is a hand-written note from Miranda, asking me how I can hope to manage a man who has a history of violence. His interest in me has nothing to do with affection and everything to do with revenge against the Mathews family.

I draw a bath for myself, light some candles, and sink into the hot water. When the water cools, I add a little more, wondering what Riley’s doing. Just as I lay back he appears in the doorway.

“Shit! You scared me.”

I don’t know how long I’ve been in the bathtub but I didn’t expect him back this soon. In truth I don’t know when I expected him back. Part of me was sure he’d stay and hang out with his fans and groupies. Have wild sex with his devoted followers.

He holds up the paper Miranda gave me and arches a brow. I can see the accusation in his eyes.

“Let me guess. She offered to come airlift you out of your dangerous circumstances.”

He pins me with his gaze and I want to retreat, but I can’t of course. I’m in a tub. Naked. Riley’s eyes glitter in the candlelight.

“She offered to send a driver,” I whisper.

Riley keeps his eyes on me while he crumples the paper in his hand, tossing it in the trash. “A driver?”

“Yes.”

He nods, leans against the doorway and shoves his hands into his pockets. “What did you say when she offered to send you a driver.”

I feel the blood drain from my face while goosebumps tighten my skin and make me shiver. “I told her I’d think about it.”

He squints at me like my words make him wince.

“She said you were going to party with those women in the box seats.” I’m trying to defend my actions yet my words sound petulant, even to my ears.

A smile spreads across his face. He pushes off the doorway, strolls into the bathroom, grabs a towel along the way and comes to stand over me. Even though the bathroom is lit only by candlelight, I’m self-conscious. But he doesn’t look at my naked body. He stares intently into my eyes, and when he speaks his tone is soft, edged with authority.

“She’s a liar.”

“She said you don’t love me.”

I hold my breath waiting for him to refute her words but he just shakes his head with disgust.

“She doesn’t know the first thing about me.”

He holds the towel out for me and in the dim light I see the abrasion on his knuckle. It wasn’t there this morning and it must be an injury from the fight. My thoughts go back to Vronsky lying on the mat and I shudder.

“I want you, Leah,” he says quietly. “I’ve told you that from the beginning.” He shifts the towel to one hand and motions for me to come to him.

“Vronsky is okay?” I ask as I get out of the tub.

Riley shrugs. “Vronsky? He’s fine.”

He wraps the towel around me. His lips curve into a smile and he dips his head to kiss me. The kiss is chaste and too brief. I lift up, seeking his mouth, hungry for more. I want him to forgive me for doubting him and I want the connection that his touch offers.

His eyes gleam with everything but forgiveness and the next moment I’m lifted off my feet and hoisted over his shoulder. Before I can protest, he strides from the bathroom, out of my room and down to his. I want to pummel his back with my fists but my arms are bound to my sides.

“See this house, Leah,” he says.

Well, no, I can’t see much. The hall and the adjoining rooms are lit only with the dimmest light and surely he knows that. Plus I’m not sure why he would ask me that question. His hand lands on my ass with a stinging smack.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I see your house.” I want to add a bad word, but I don’t dare. He’ll smack me again. I’m sure of that.

“It’s all for you, baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I bought it for you. It’s all for you. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy you something else.”

He shoves his door open and kicks it shut behind him. We’re in his room and I realize I’ve never stepped foot inside his room. Riley sets me down in the darkness and I’m completely disoriented. The towel slips from my shoulders and I grab it, trying to keep some semblance of modesty. It may be pitch black, but I suspect Riley can see in the dark.

“I want what you want,” he says. “Unless you don’t want me. In that case, I don’t care what you want.”

He tugs the towel from me and backs me toward what I imagine is the bed, but I’m not certain. When the back of my legs hit the mattress, he coaxes me back, lifting me and setting me on his bed. This is all happening fast. Too fast. Even though we’ve barely been apart, it feels strange. Wonderful and terrifying all at once.

“Are you mad at me for telling Miranda I’d think about it?”

He nuzzles my neck, nips me and sucks on the tender skin below my jaw. “Super pissed off,” he murmurs. He cups my breast, squeezes me and then plucks my nipple. “You’re in trouble.”

“I’m not on the pill.”

“Good. I want a lot of babies. Lots. Then I won’t be pissed at you anymore.”

I laugh softly and thread my fingers through his hair. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and teases me with his tongue. The feeling is so pleasurable, I arch my back with no conscious thought. I want his mouth there and everywhere. I’m naked beneath him and he’s still fully clothed. I’m at two extremes, completely vulnerable and hyper aroused.

“Are you going to take your clothes off?” I whisper.

“I will, baby. I’m going to have you. Finally.”

He trails kisses down my stomach, coaxing my thighs apart, and when he kisses me between my legs I whimper with need. I know what he can do to me with his wicked tongue. He’s going to make me fall apart, shatter into a million little pieces.

Stroking the seam of my pussy with his tongue he growls softly. “You taste so good, Leah. I’ll never get enough of you.”

And then he starts licking me and with each stroke of his tongue he builds me higher, making my pleasure spiral up. I’m so close, and when he sucks my clit between his lips, I come. Hard. Pleasure makes me writhe and claw the bed. The aftermath brings wave after wave of ecstasy. I’m aware of his undressing and then I feel him lower between my thighs. The head of his cock presses against my entrance. I’m tender there, swollen from my climax, but I’m wet too and he’s able to push in without any resistance from me. Suddenly it feels different. Unbearably full and I tense beneath him. He cradles my head with his hands and soothes me with soft words.

“I hate to hurt you,” he says.

I nod, a silent offer for him to take me. He kisses me and pushes in. The pain is brief but intense and he takes my cry with his kiss. His strokes are slow and I can feel what it costs him to be gentle with me. His breath is deep. His chest expands and contracts against my breasts. I run my fingers up to his shoulders and trace the grooves of his muscles.

Riley and I are one. Finally. I marvel at how well we fit together and as the pain recedes I move with him, meeting him stroke for stroke. When I raise my knees and clasp him with my thighs he groans. I thrill a little to think that I give him pleasure. That a small movement on my part draws a response from him.

My own pleasure crests and washes over me like a wave. He snarls with his own release. His body feels like solid steel. I grip his powerful shoulders and try to hold on while ecstasy sweeps through me. A sob tears from my throat. He mutters something, rolls over and gathers me in his arms, collecting me close to his chest.

“I hurt you?” he asks.

“No.” I’m weak. My bones are liquid and I can’t find the strength to say anything more. His heartbeat crashes against mine. I’m quiet, wordless, and hardly able to comprehend or even believe what just happened. Making love with Riley is the summation of every single secret desire I’ve ever had. It was raw, gritty, and beautiful and maybe he’ll never tell me he loves me, but in this moment, I feel adored. Tremors of pleasure ebb along the length of my limbs.

The last thing I remember is sinking into his strong arms.