Our Little Secret (36 page)

Chapman’s question stopped him. “Good point,” he conceded. “One of them could be waiting for us in the woods.”

Chapman nodded vigorously, obviously pleased that he was beginning to get through to him.

“So I’ll have to check that out.”

“No!” Chapman yelled it, and Drew could almost see the agent’s blood pressure shoot back into the red zone. All Drew could do was grip the steering wheel in frustration,

With the Ford’s engine roaring in his ears, Drew barely heard Gerald’s soft murmur from the phone on the dash. “I have the volume low and I’d like to keep this phone on in case you have any useful advice, but if you two don’t keep it down”—he emphasized the last three words—“I’m turning it off.
Capisce?
”

Neither bothered to respond. They’d come up behind a slow-moving car whose driver either hadn’t spotted the flashing light behind him or wasn’t impressed. Drew laid on the horn until the car edged over, then shot past it with a roar.

“That does it, the volume is going off.”

Chapman looked at Drew in disbelief. “I don’t believe this. He turned me off.” Processing that information must have been difficult, because he didn’t even comment as Drew oversteered a corner, jumped the curb, and scraped the car’s back bumper against a tree. “If anything happens to my partner, I’m gonna kill that little prick,” he announced.

The phone went silent for a full minute, so it surprised them both when a low voice spoke from their dashboard.

“They’re both in the car. I’m sneaking around the back. If I’m on the other side, our dumbass agent in the woods should see me. Even he should be able to figure out something’s wrong if I’m crawling around on the ground.”

“What in the hell is he doing?” Chapman grabbed the phone again.

“I don’t know, and I can’t worry about it now.” His dad’s house was only a couple miles away. All Lauren had to do was keep Pierson at bay for a few more minutes.

“Okay, I made motions to indicate danger, so I hope dumbass saw them.”

Gerald’s voice was so low he must have had his mouth directly on the phone, but Chapman still held it near his ear. “What’d he say? Something about making motions?”

“How should I know?” One crisis at a time would be nice, but if Drew had to make a choice, Lauren’s safety was more important than anything else. Lauren was more important.

Chapman yelled at the phone. “Get away from the car!”

Since he couldn’t hear them, Gerald’s voice never paused. “I’m going to have to trust your brutish friend to cover this side of the car. I’m crawling back to the driver’s side now. Mihaly’s getting close and they’re going to open those windows soon. Damn it, this gravel is killing my trousers. The government is for damn sure going to get another bill from me.”

Chapman had gone still. “My God, he’s waiting for them to lower the windows.”

“Why?” Not that he had time to care. Pierson probably felt pressed for time and wouldn’t allow Lauren to stall for long. He had to hurry.

Chapman barely seemed to notice the trash bin that went flying as Drew dodged a car nosing out of
a driveway. He stared at the phone. “He must have some lame-brained idea that he can overpower them when they stick their guns out the window to shoot at Dragos. That’s insane. Even if he surprises the driver from behind and manages to knock the gun out of his hand, there’s still the other guy to deal with. Renke doesn’t know what’s going on, and Dragos has no idea
anything’s
wrong. They could shoot him before—”

He broke off at a whispery sound from the phone and held it to his ear.

Drew tore his eyes from the road long enough to see the worry on Chapman’s face. “What’d he say?”

“He’s going to leave the line open, but he can’t talk anymore. Holy Christ, what’s he think he’s going to do, twist the guy’s arm until he yells ‘uncle’? Hit him with a stick? Punch him?”

“Gerald’s a biter.” Drew managed one terse sentence. The house was only two blocks away now. Lauren might still be okay. She was smart and resourceful…

Drew slammed on the brakes as a man walking a dog started across the street. Their headlights raked parked cars on both sides of the street as they fishtailed, then straightened out. From the corner of his eye Drew saw the man and dog scamper to safety and he gunned it.

Chapman grabbed the dash again and swore, but Drew wasn’t sure if it was for his driving or for the tense silence from the phone. He couldn’t worry about it. His heart and mind were full of Lauren. Besides, Gerald had always been able to take care of himself.

Screaming erupted from the phone, startling them both. A second later a different voice yelled out,
followed by a confused mixture of noises and screams. Chapman stared at the phone. Drew stared straight ahead, eyes on the road while acutely aware of every sound coming from the small speaker. Men yelling. Bumping and banging. Then a sound that sent fear ripping through him—a gunshot, followed by a high-pitched shriek. He strained to hear more, but the garbled mixture of noises cut off abruptly.

The phone went silent.

Chapman threw it to the floor. “Fuck!”

Drew clenched his jaw and refused to think about what might have happened. Only one thing mattered:
Lauren.

Panic shot through Lauren. It must have been at least ten minutes since she’d talked to Drew. Someone should be here to save her by now. Anyone. A surreal sense of exasperation followed. Did she have to do everything herself?

Things like this didn’t happen in her former well-planned, evenly paced, dependable life. No blackmail plots, no shootings, no extraordinary man making love to her. And certainly no naked senators intent on having sex with her. She had no experience to draw on. Meg might know how to deal with a randy, naked senator, but Lauren was going to have to wing it.

She blinked at the pants around his ankles, then up at him. Her own newly realized desire to make love in inappropriate places had been an incredible turn-on. It was probably too tame for Pierson, but she hoped he had a few fantasies of his own.

Your turn,
he had told her.

“Okay,” she said, as seductively as she could manage. “But I have a favor to ask first.”

Pierson didn’t look happy about anything that might postpone his raunchy plans.

“What?”

“I like things a little… kinky.”

His suspicious look cleared and turned lascivious. “Yeah? How kinky?”

“I want you to tie me up.”

A smile spread slowly until his teeth showed. “You surprise me, Lauren. In the best way possible.”

She pretended to be flattered. “Good. Because I have one more surprise.”

“What?” His voice had gone gravelly with passion.

“Uh-uh. Tie me up first.”

His hairy chest heaved as he blew out a deep breath. “Damn, I can’t wait to give it to you.” He nodded at her terry-cloth belt. “We can use that.”

“No!” she blurted, refusing to let go of the only thing keeping him from ogling her body.

“You’re right. Leather is much better.” He whipped the belt off his trousers and kicked them aside. “Put your hands together and I’ll lash you to the rails on the headboard.”

Holy shit, it was hard to stay ahead of this creep. “I was thinking you could use handcuffs. That’s why I wanted to come up here.” She dug through the drawer and pulled out the silver handcuffs she’d spotted a few days ago, before Drew slammed the drawer closed. She dangled them in front of Pierson.

If snakes could smile they would look exactly like the senator, only less slimy and without all those teeth. “You bad girl. Give me those.”

She hopped onto the bed and scuttled to the other side. “No need, I can do it.” She pulled the key from
the lock and wasted a few seconds fumbling with the cuffs. His actions were getting ahead of her words and she needed more time. “I hope you have plenty of stamina, Senator, because you’re really going to love what we do after this.”

She paused to close her eyes for a delighted shiver, and he quit rummaging through the drawer to give her a curious glance. “After what?”

“After we handcuff me and you enjoy that for a little bit, then it’s your turn to be handcuffed.”

“Not my thing. You sure you don’t need help?”

“No, I’ve got it.” She clicked one cuff closed and tugged it so he could see that it was fastened securely to the headboard. If he got hold of the cuffs now, it would be all over for her. But if she could play on his fantasies for just one more minute…

She made a show of opening the other end and placing it on her wrist while she talked. “Oh, I could change your mind about that. You have no idea. My boyfriend taught me this game and Drew was too straitlaced to try it, but Jeff says it gives him the most mind-blowing orgasms he’s ever had.”

She let the cuffs encircle her wrist as if she were trying them on for size, and peeked at him. He’d become still, his cautious gaze on her, not the cuffs. “Creighton’s too straitlaced?”

“He’s a prude compared to Jeff.” Since she was trying to appeal to Pierson’s deepest perversions, Drew probably
was
too straitlaced for what she was about to suggest. Jeff would faint dead away just listening to it.

“He has me cuff him to the bed, and I pretend I’m a sex-starved nymphomaniac who’s going to force him
to service me again and again.” She let the cuff dangle, unfastened, while she talked. It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t looking at her hand. He was waiting to hear more, and she was making herself dizzy trying to think up an erotic scenario on the spot. “Jeff rattles the cuffs and pretends he wants to get away, just to turn me on. You won’t have to do that because I’m already so hot for you.” She smiled, trying to ignore the taste of bile. “And then I start
doing things
to him.”

His mouth hung open as he listened. “What things?”

“Oh, I imagine there are a few things in that drawer I could play with.” Except Pierson obviously wanted specifics and she wasn’t sure what some of that stuff even was. “But he likes it best when I use my mouth.”

“Uh-huh.” He licked his lips.

“And my tongue.” She licked hers, too, while he watched intently. “And of course, my hands. Jeff says he’s never been harder in his life, and I go on and on while he moans in ecstasy.”

Pierson was fondling himself as he listened, which was probably a good sign, but not something she wanted to see. “Then what?” he croaked.

“Then he starts begging for me to finish it, but I don’t, I keep him close to the edge and torture him with pleasure. I lie on top of him and slide my body along his, focusing on certain parts of him, and finally—this is Jeff’s favorite part—I use this special technique I learned from a woman I know.”

“What kind of technique?” he panted.

“Oh, I can’t give it away.” She smiled, doing a mental search for something that sounded exotic. “She used to be a geisha in Japan. She gives lessons, and you have to
pass certain proficiency levels before you can learn the best stuff.” She winked. “I was an excellent student.”

She was so impressed with her own story she nearly forgot to finalize the deal, and from the dazed look in his eyes, it was time. “I’d really love to show you that. I promise it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. But we can do my stuff later because I’m sure you can do me twice. We have time, don’t we?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Maybe not a lot of time. Let’s do your thing first.” He climbed onto the bed beside her, and she scooted to the far edge, forcing herself not to bolt. Not yet.

“Are you sure?” Protesting seemed realistic, but tiny ripples of panic were swirling in her stomach, making her queasy. Time to end this. “But if you really want me to do you first…” She lowered her voice and did her best minx impression. “I can give you the best, longest, hardest orgasm you ever imagined.”

“Me first.” He yanked the cuff off her wrist and snapped it over his own. Leering, he said, “I’m ready. Show me what you’ve got, honey.”

She exhaled, a drawn-out, shaky breath that released all the fear and tension she’d been holding back. She slipped off the bed, tossing him a regretful look as she backed toward the door. “Sorry, gotta run.”

Whirling, she gathered her robe and charged toward the door. Behind her, Pierson yelled, “Hey! You goddamn little prick tease, get back here!” She heard a crash, then a string of swear words as she tore down the stairs, the key pressed tightly inside her fist. The cuffs had looked strong, but for all she knew they were just a toy, made to pop open under enough force. He could be seconds behind her. She didn’t look back
to find out. Pulling the front door wide, she bolted into the night.

And tripped over the crouched body of a man.

Somersaulting head over heels, she ended up flat on her butt on Senator Creighton’s front lawn, staring at the man. Staring at his gun.

Dark hair. The blond man’s partner?

“Miss Sutherland?”

Breath seeped back into her lungs as she recognized the respectful tones of the Secret Service. “About time,” she said, sagging.

She’d been rescued, mere seconds after rescuing herself. Lauren closed her eyes with relief, then tensed as a distant vibration rapidly turned into the roar of a car bearing down on the house.