The Yearning (8 page)

“Stop that,” she said in a low voice to Lily, then turned to Violet. “Don’t go through his stuff.”

The younger Dantes exchanged a look. As one, they went to Jasmine and put their arms around her, motherly and protective. Their devotion overwhelmed, bringing a quick sob to Jasmine’s throat.

Immediately, Lily spoke in a hard tone. “What did he do to you? Where’s the fucker now?”

“Asleep in my bed. And he didn’t do anything to me.” Her voice bounced. “He’s not the threat, I am.”

“Is it getting worse?” Violet asked.

“Of course it is,” Lily hissed, combative as always. “Where have you been? Just look at her.”

“Guys, please, don’t argue.” Jasmine continued on a sigh. “Put his things back where you found them. Take the company card and get a hotel room for the night.”

“No.” The answer came from both sisters. Lily continued, “What do you mean for the night? What about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next? We’re not leaving you alone with him for a minute, much less the time it takes us to find Desiree.”

“I won’t be alone. Ben’s here.” Jasmine freed herself from their arms and went to the refrigerator, keeping her voice low. “And you won’t be gone longer than tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’m making certain he leaves.”

“Why?” Violet asked, joining Jasmine at the fridge. “Are you afraid of him? Who is he, exactly? I found a concealed gun permit in his wallet.”

“No shit?” Lily asked.

Jasmine spoke to Violet. “His name’s Mike Stearn, as you probably already know from reading his driver’s license.” She turned to Lily. “He’s a former US Marshal.”

The girl came to her. “I was worried he might be a biker or a former gangbanger, but he’s a freaking cop?”

“Consultant,” Jasmine corrected. “Not that it matters. He’s leaving in the morning.”

Violet spoke up. “But what happens then?”

Jasmine handed her the platter of ham. “I don’t know. I’d rather not think about it.”

“You have to.” Lily frowned at the Tupperware Jasmine gave her. “What’s this for?”

“I promised Mike a snack.”

Her eyes brightened. “We still have the Ambien your doctor prescribed. We can put it or the Sominex into his food and make certain he stays asleep so we can talk about this and decide what to do.”

Jasmine didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at her youngest sister’s ridiculous idea. “No drugs, not even over-the-counter.” She took plates and silverware from the cupboard. “I’ve decided to let him go.”

“Screw that.” Lily tossed the plastic bowls on the table. They hit the glass top with a sharp whack and wobbled like slowly spinning quarters.

“She’s right,” Violet said, her tone far more reasonable than Lily’s and sounding so much like their late mother. She put the ham on the table and inclined her head to the bank of windows. “You’ll be out there within a couple of hours, if you don’t keep him here. You’ll be drawn to God-knows-who. What you went through with Travis could happen again.”

“Jas.” Lily’s normally blunt voice entreated. “Have you forgotten how close you came to being hurt?”

Her gaze darted from sister to sister. The fear in their eyes matched hers as the night with Travis returned. She recalled the twenty-four-hour convenience store where they’d met and how she’d roamed the aisles, unsteady from desire, searching for something, anything to calm her nerves, to help her sleep. Frantic, Violet had called her cell phone. She and Lily begged Jasmine to come home.

She hadn’t. Turning the corner near the sleep aids, she’d bumped into Travis, a tall man her age. Hand flying out, he’d caught her arm as she stumbled backwards into a display of toothpaste. Her gaze met his and the room shifted. Interest rolled through her, heightening her senses. She felt male strength in his callused fingers and saw fire in his chocolate eyes.

They flirted shamelessly, exchanging first names only, speaking with the ease of strangers or impending lovers. For reasons she didn’t understand, Jasmine told him she just moved to the Keys from the Midwest and hoped to have some fun. Revealing nothing truly personal, he offered to show her around, starting with the body-piercing shop he owned, a block away.

Remembering her cell phone, she told her sisters she was going to get her navel pierced, ending the call on their imploring voices. Her finger traced the name of Travis’s business printed on his tee and the five gold studs he wore in his right ear. In a kittenish voice, she asked, “Do you take late appointments at your place?”

Within fifteen minutes, he had her stretched out on his vinyl table, her cotton shorts lowered to bare her navel. He pierced her flesh with metal and quieted her gasp with his mouth, his beard-roughened face scouring her cheeks. Her fingers groomed his wild chestnut locks as she purred, “What now?”

“Let’s have some fun.”

Racing forms and body jewelry catalogues littered his worn sofa in the small apartment above his shop. Remnants of a fast-food lunch, or maybe breakfast, remained on the counter.

Unceasing lust blinded her to the clutter and the edge in his voice as he ordered her to undress.

Staring at the dark fur between her legs, he asked, “You like being tied up, Jasmine?”

His question sparked her first taste of panic. She wasn’t certain how he’d react if she said no. Once he’d lashed her ankles and wrists to his bed, he brought out his drug paraphernalia, taking a hit of crystal meth, then offering it to her with a chilling smile.

She refused. Determined, he pressured her to try it. She started to sob, telling him she wanted to leave. It triggered his rage. Unbuckling his belt, he pulled it from his jeans, saying he didn’t like a tease. The belt sliced through the air, sounding like a shriek.

Primal terror stole her ability to cry out. Even if she had, no one would hear her. The surrounding businesses had closed for the night…his was the only apartment. The bed shook with her futile struggle to get free. At last, she found her voice and screamed. Seconds later, something crashed into his front door.

“Jas!” Lily’s voice hollered, followed by Violet’s and Ben’s.

In an area overcrowded with body-piercing shops, her sisters had located the one nearest the convenience store and saw her car parked outside. Ben used his baseball bat to beat on Travis’s door, leaving several gashes in the wood. Travis’s hostility turned to self-preservation. He took off through the back way, leading down to his business. Her sisters and Ben brought her home. Safe, desire ate at her.

Jasmine trembled at the memory and what she’d learned later. Travis had served time for brutalizing a girlfriend. Whimpering, she welcomed Violet’s gentle hug.

Lily insisted, “We’ve come this far. Mike Stearn is not going anywhere. We have to keep him here. It’s the only way. At least until we find Desiree.”

Jasmine dug her nails into her palms. “We’re never going to find her. She didn’t leave with the Wanderers.”

“So that means she’s still in the Keys,” Violet said. “She’s probably looking for Connor.”

Lily snorted. “Did you ever think his disappearance might be because Desiree killed him after seeing him with Jas?”

Jasmine answered before Violet could. “She wanted to punish me, not Connor. She blames me for seducing him or luring him or whatever went through her mind. He’s the only man she wants. I don’t think she’d harm him.”

“I agree,” Violet said. “She’s still in the city looking for him. All we need is time to locate her, beg or force her to lift this damn thing, and keep you safe in the interim. That means here with Mike.”

No. Jasmine argued, “We’re talking about a man’s freedom.”

“We’re talking about your life.” Violet eased her hold and leaned back. “As far as I’m concerned, nothing’s more important than that. Right, Lil?”

“Fucking A.” Lily shoved her fingers through her short hair. “Besides, what will he have to complain about? So he’ll be stuck in a soft bed with a beautiful woman and room service for a little while. We’re hardly talking Attica. And even if he doesn’t like it, what’s he going to do? Complain to the cops? Think they’ll believe Jas locked up the big, bad former US Marshal?”

It was still kidnapping. Jasmine pressed her fingers to her forehead, wanting to reason with them, but could not. A new wave of lust, ferocious and frightening, seized her.

Chapter Five

In his dream, Mike heard the Sirens’ voices, young and filled with tension, speaking not singing. Didn’t make sense. What were they talking about? He listened and caught the sound of water dripping. On the boulders where the Sirens lured the doomed sailors?

He tried to reason it out. The voices fell quiet, though the water did not. Its
plunk-plunk-plunk
made him think of his Glock. Why? And then he knew. Jasmine had put his pistol on the bath’s counter. Her leaking faucet must be making the noise he heard. The last of his dream vanished like warm vapor on a frigid day. Rolling over, he sensed he wasn’t alone.

His lids made it halfway up on his second try. Jasmine stood at the side of the bed, washed in moonlight, watching him. The edges of her shimmery pink robe parted, showing her bejeweled navel and moist cleft. Carnal greed flashed in her eyes, deeper than before, more intense.

Her earlier promise about sex games came to mind. It thickened his cock and sharpened his voice. “Get the corset.”

An immodest smile tilted the corners of her mouth. She padded to the dresser, her robe rippling over her shapely form. The sight pulled him to a sitting position. He inhaled deeply and caught the mouthwatering aroma of smoked meat. She’d placed a tray on the right nightstand, crowding her sexy figurines. He saw two plates heaped with equal portions of steaming ham, potato salad, coleslaw, containers of amber-colored sauce, and squares of cake. Next to it stood a pair of Coronas, the glass bottles beaded with moisture. His stomach growled noisily.

Corset in hand, she turned. “You’re starving. I made you wait too long. Please forgive me.”

Her voice had a drugged, faraway quality about it, as though she’d already immersed herself in their game of master and slave.

Fine with him. “Come here,” he ordered.

She did, running her fingers down his chest. His pecs jumped, loving it. She murmured, “Do you want me to feed you now?”

“The food can wait. I want you in the corset.”

She dropped it on his lap and depressed the start button on her wall-mounted CD player. A popular Eagles tune from the nineties filled the room. Her silk robe billowed away from her body and drifted to the floor. She unhooked her belly chain and diamonds, dropping the jewelry between a pair of statues. The metal jingles died quickly. Her fragrance did not. She smelled of sex, musky sweet.

Fully alert, Mike grabbed the corset and left the mattress, his impatient cock brushing her glutted vulva. “Raise your arms so I can put this on you.”

The pose flaunted her generous breasts. His hands shook, antsy to lift them and know their precious weight. He resisted, leaving the delight for later. For now, he navigated the corset past her elbows and head to her torso.

Hands beneath her hair, she held it above her shoulders and turned. “Lace me tight. Trap me so I can’t get free.” Her voice, a blend of hunger and submission, offered what no lucid man could refuse.

The cheval mirror reflected their bodies. From this angle, her rounded cheeks hid his rod as though he were inside of her, his cock planted to its base. A pleasant agony spun through him, grating his voice. “Don’t worry, you won’t get free.” He looped the laces around his hands and pulled carefully. He wanted her breathless from him, not this damned thing.

Her chin pointed to the ceiling, exposing her throat. Ass jutted out, she begged, “Tighter, please.”

In the mirror, he saw the fabric drawn snugly across her breasts, the swells close to spilling out just as he’d imagined. “No. This is good enough.” She’d said she wanted a master and he had no intention of disappointing or harming her. He tied the laces in a loose bow and turned her to face him.

She sought his mouth. He made her wait, his lips to her throat, tasting a mixture of perspiration and perfume as he imprisoned her wrists behind her back.

Although she mewled contentedly, she rotated her shoulders and fisted her fingers, trying to get free.

Puzzled, he whispered in her ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to touch you.”

Her hair cushioned his face, smelling as good as the rest of her, compromising his ability to think. He gave himself a moment to collect himself. “Not until I’m through with you.”

“But—”

Her protest stopped with his feverish kiss, the kind he’d given his first girlfriend in middle school. All passion, no finesse. Jasmine didn’t seem to mind. She sucked his tongue as if she’d never tasted anything better.

For her kindness, he slowed down, savoring her mouth as he would a perfectly prepared steak, letting flavors, scents, textures govern. She melted into him, the frenzy gone, replaced by something more substantial, though he couldn’t put a name to it.

Ready to go further, he ended their kiss and opened his eyes for an unguarded view of what he’d accomplished with her. She seemed at peace and very tired. Before he could comment on the fatigue, her eyes opened. In them, he saw mounting heat, which contradicted the apparent sleepiness. To make certain, he asked, “You want to rest for a bit?”

“I want to touch you.” She tried to turn her wrists in his hands.

Smiling, he increased his grip. “You damn sure will. First though, I’m going to touch, lick and fuck every part of you.”

“Whatever you want.”

Her eager obedience did amazing things to the package between his legs. With one arm around her waist and the other behind her knees, he lifted her into his arms. Her head fell back, presenting the creamy expanse of her chest and neck. Mesmerized, he dropped his head to her cleavage, womanly and magical. His tongue dipped into the narrow channel. Jasmine’s hand tightened on his shoulder, her nails raked his skin.

A rush of air escaped his lungs, leaving him panting for more. He steadied his knee on the bed and deposited her in the middle of the mattress, her feet near the headboard. Her arms left him and came to rest above her shoulders. Sinuously, she unfolded her body, spreading it over the frosty linens, prepared to give him whatever he wanted.