Kidnapped for Christmas Read online

  “Look, I’m sorry you’re having a hard time finding the time to run your kidnap-and-kinks-for-hire business but I’m not going to cover your ass. Not this time.” Kyle frowned. Grabbing a strange woman off the street, blindfolding and handcuffing her, and taking her back to his place for rough treatment wasn’t his idea of a good time. Well, not unless she really wanted it and they had discussed it beforehand and were in that kind of relationship, he admitted to himself. In that case, it might be pretty hot. But doing any of what Adam did on a regular basis to a total stranger held no appeal for Kyle at all. He wanted to at least know his sub a little before playing a scene with her.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Give me a break with that holier-than-thou shit, man. Like you never did anything kinky between the sheets. I remember back in college when you were dating that girl, Sheila, you told me how she was into handcuffs and whipped cream and—”

  “And that was a long time ago,” Kyle interrupted him, frowning. “And I haven’t had a permanent sub since. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you haven’t had lots of temporary subs. I know you hit the clubs on a regular basis. And you haven’t had a permanent sub because you haven’t found another woman who was into the lifestyle who you wanted to be with,” his little brother pointed out, ignoring Kyle’s not-so-subtle hint to butt out of his personal business. “Hell, you’re wired the same way I am—you know you love it. I just wonder why you didn’t hang on to Sheila.”

  “It just didn’t work out.” Kyle rubbed a hand over the dark goatee and mustache that framed his mouth. “Sheila was…kind of crazy. She wanted to take it outside the bedroom and the clubs. Wanted to get one of those spiked collars to wear all around town and call me ‘Master Kyle’ in public and tattoo my name on her…on her…” He gestured helplessly with the manila folder. “Anyway, she just wanted too much. She was too into it—too submissive. I’m not up for the 24/7 thing you seem to like so much. Which is why you own the kinky kidnap and bondage franchise and I am a master craftsman.”

  “You’re a carpenter,” Adam said, raising one blond eyebrow at him. His hair was several shades lighter than Kyle’s, who had coppery brown hair and brown eyes to go with his powerful build. Both brothers were big enough to turn heads anyplace they went, although Kyle was slightly taller and definitely the more brooding of the two.

  “I like to work with my hands,” Kyle defended himself.

  “So do I.” Adam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And you may be a carpenter on the outside but you’re a Dom at heart and you’ve got a freak streak a mile wide. Don’t try to deny it, Kyle. You’re not even seeing anyone right now—you oughta be begging me to work some of my ‘naps. You know, the other week this chick wanted me to strip her naked and lick peanut butter off her thighs. How hot is that?”

  “Not hot enough to tempt me.” Kyle sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Look, Adam, I don’t think you get it. Just because I have…those urges, doesn’t mean I want to act on them with just anybody. That kind of thing has to be mutual—consensual.”

  “It is consensual. They sign a freaking airtight contract.” Adam tapped the folder in Kyle’s hand for emphasis. “Everything I do, they asked for ahead of time. And you wouldn’t believe some of the things these chicks want me to do.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. Here.” Kyle tried to shove the file back into his brother’s hands but Adam refused to take it back.

  Adam made a face. “I can’t believe you’re trying to turn this down. C’mon—just look at this chick. She’s just your type. Look at her picture if you don’t believe me.”

  “What do you mean ‘my type’?” Kyle frowned but reluctantly opened the folder. Staring up at him from a glossy eight-by-ten was a young woman with long, almost black hair and dark eyes. She had a slight smile playing around the corners of her full lips and a pale roseleaf complexion which would show a blush easily. She was a little thin for his taste—well, all right, a lot thin to be honest, but other than that, Adam was right—she was exactly the kind of woman Kyle was attracted to.

  He admired her picture, wondering what she would look like naked with all that pale, smooth skin exposed. With a complexion like that, the soft round globes of her ass would go from pink to red in a hot minute with a hard spanking. He could almost see her writhing and crying on his lap, squirming against his stiff cock each and every time his palm connected with her bottom as she begged to be free even though both of them knew she really wanted him to spank her harder, to take her higher, to make her come…

  Adam had been waiting quietly while Kyle perused the picture but finally he cleared his throat impatiently. Kyle dragged his eyes away from the dark-haired girl and looked up to see his brother smirking.

  “See what I mean, man? She’s got ‘made for Kyle’ stamped all over her.”

  “Is…” Kyle cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “Is she attached? In a relationship?”

  Adam’s blue eyes sharpened at once. “Look, Kyle, this is not about a long-term commitment. In this business we have only three rules—no actual penetration sex, respect the safe word, and never, ever date the client. She’s coming to us for a no-strings-attached erotic experience and she doesn’t need some lovesick bastard stalking her after her personal ‘nap is over.”

  “Get over yourself with your fucking rules,” Kyle growled, glowering at his brother. “I would never fuck a sub—it’s not about that. And I didn’t ask because I wanted a relationship with this girl, this…”

  “Sabrina Marks,” Adam supplied promptly.

  “Whatever.” Kyle slapped the manila folder closed. “The point is, I’m actually considering doing this for you, as crazy as it is, but I want to be sure I’m not screwing up her life in the process. If she’s got another man, I’m not into it. Understand?”

  Adam shrugged. “Sure, whatever. But no, her profile says she’s single.” He grinned. “She sounds like a real adventurous girl too. You should read what she wants you to do to her.”

  “You mean, what she wants to have done to her,” Kyle corrected.

  Adam grinned. “No, man, what she wants you to do to her. Because you’re gonna do this, aren’t you? I can feel it. You want this girl. It’s been a long time and you’re hungry. Hungry for someone else who wants to play the game. Can’t you just see her, naked, down on her knees, begging for some correction? Begging you to discipline her and make her a good girl?”

  “Stop it.” Kyle’s voice was harsh. He had the sudden impulse to shove the manila folder back at his brother and walk out of the damn swanky office that was located in affluent South Tampa. He would get in his truck and go back to his workshop in the unfashionable NoHo district and take out his frustrations on his latest project—a huge hard oak dining room table he was currently making. Whenever he was upset or conflicted, the smell of fresh wood and the feel of tools in his hands could calm him, could still those dark impulses he had worked so hard to suppress. The same impulses his little brother reveled in. Hell, Adam fucking made a living on them, Kyle admitted to himself ruefully.

  He sighed and flipped open the folder again to see the girl staring up at him. God, he had to admit that even if she was way too skinny, she really was beautiful. It was the pale skin and the dark hair and eyes that got him every time. His own skin tone was a natural tan and he loved the idea of seeing his dark hand against her white flesh.

  He frowned. Damn Adam for putting this under his nose just when he was feeling weak. His brother was right—he wanted to do this. He hadn’t been hitting the clubs lately, maybe because playing a scene with someone he had no real emotional attachment with wasn’t as appealing as it had once been. He did date other women, but none of them were into the lifestyle and straight vanilla sex just didn’t satisfy him.

  Not that playing a scene ended in sex—it didn’t, as far as Kyle was concerned. When he went to a club he was looking for a straight D/s relationship and
the scene ended when the sub he was dominating gave in to him completely. In some ways it was more emotional than sexual. But when he dated a woman and tried to have a more traditional sexual relationship, he found himself bored and unsatisfied after a few dates.

  The problem was, it wasn’t really something you could ask on a first date so he couldn’t ask a girl out and say, “Excuse me, are you into bondage and submission games? Because I’d really like to put you over my knee and spank you until you moan.” And every time he tried going to a club that catered to the BDSM lifestyle, he always seemed to hook up with girls like the aforementioned Shelia. Skinny girls who wanted to go to extremes and live a 24/7 kind of thing instead of just keeping it in the bedroom.

  Kyle didn’t want that kind of submission and servility every hour of the day and night—he was only interested in a sexually submissive woman, not a helpless one who wanted him to plan out every detail of her life. Outside the bedroom he wanted a woman he could connect with intellectually, someone who could think for herself and knew her own mind. And it wouldn’t hurt if she had some meat on her bones either. The trouble was, he had yet to find a woman who was all those things.

  But this wasn’t about finding the right woman, he reminded himself. This was about a free, no-strings-attached erotic experience. It was about giving the dark-haired girl in the picture her fantasy and having a little fun himself at the same time. Really, what harm could it do to do this just once to help Adam out?

  “Well?” Adam’s anxious voice reminded Kyle that his brother was still in the room and waiting for his final answer.

  “Okay,” he said, even though a little voice at the back of his head was still telling him it was a bad idea. “I’ll do it. Just this once, though. What’s her safe word?”

  “Buster,” Adam said promptly. Kyle knew it was the first thing he learned about every client.

  “Buster?” He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Adam shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe it’s her dog? You have to admit it’s not something you’d scream out in a moment of passion. Not unless she’s into something a lot kinkier than what we offer.”

  Kyle gave him an irritated look. “Why don’t you just go on to your convention? I’ll help you out, but only this once. So don’t go looking to me to babysit your business every time you need to get out of town.”

  “Don’t worry, buddy.” Adam slapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “I’m interviewing prospective Doms right now. But you’re the only one I trust to get it right while the business is still so new. You’ve got iron control—I know you won’t go too far or break the rules.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Kyle shrugged off his little brother’s compliments and turned back to the manila folder.

  “Remember.” Adam pointed a finger at him. “No penetration sex, respect the safe word and leave the client alone after the ‘nap is over.”

  “You already told me that. Will you just go already?”

  “Okay, okay, I’m outta here. Thanks, man. I owe you.” Adam grabbed the packed suitcase he’d had stashed by the side of his desk and turned to leave.

  “Damn right you owe me,” Kyle growled but there was no anger in his voice. He was too busy examining the file, seeing exactly what Sabrina Marks wanted him to do to her. “Buster,” he muttered under his breath. “Her safe word is Buster.”

  Chapter Two

  “Buster? Buster? Where are you?” Jillian stalked through her sister’s apartment, which was decorated in secondhand furniture and dead plants, with a can of tuna doctored with kitty insulin in her hand. “Buster? Come on, sweetie, come out and get the nice tuna Jilly brought you,” she called, feeling like an idiot. “Damn cat, where are you?” But she knew it wasn’t really the cat she was mad at, even though the idiotic thing was hiding somewhere, refusing to be fed. No, the person she was really pissed at was her sister.

  She’d gotten the call at midnight the night before, the shrill ringing of her cell phone startling her out of a sound slumber. Before she even picked it up, Jillian had known who it was going to be. And sure enough, it was Sabrina on the other end of the phone, breathing in her ear.

  “Oh, Jilly, I’m so glad I caught you! I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

  “Of course not,” Jillian had said sarcastically. “After all, it’s only midnight.”

  “Oh good!” The sarcasm had apparently gone completely over Sabrina’s head. “So listen, you know how I’m watching Mom’s cat for her while she’s visiting Grandma for a few days?”

  “Uh-huh,” Jillian had said warily. Her mother was extremely attached to her cat even though he was on his last leg. Buster had diabetes and kidney problems, not to mention he was half blind and mostly deaf. But Mom had found him when he was a kitten, back when Jillian and Sabrina were still in grade school. He had been her constant furry companion for years and a favorite family pet, which explained her mother’s reluctance to part with him. When she’d announced that she was going to visit their grandmother for a few days before the Christmas rush really began and Sabrina had volunteered to look after Buster, Jillian had thought it was too good to be true. And now, lo and behold, she was about to be proven right…she could just feel it.

  Sure enough, Sabrina’s next words were, “I’m going to be gone for a few days and I really need you to come in and feed Buster and give him his medicine for me. Do you mind?”

  For a moment Jillian had wondered what her little sister would say if she told Sabrina that yes, she did mind as a matter of fact. Her sister’s apartment complex was on the west side of Waters Avenue, which was far off the beaten path from Jillian’s work commute. She was a senior CPA in the accounting firm of Zuckerman and Shires located in downtown Tampa. It was hard enough to get there and find parking in order to be on time for work without taking a huge detour to feed and medicate their mother’s diabetic cat. But if she didn’t feed and medicate the cat, who would? It was the same old story all over again. She didn’t want Buster to go hungry or lapse into a kitty coma just because Sabrina was irresponsible.

  “Yeah,” she had said grudgingly at last. “I’ll do it. How long will you be gone? Wait a minute.” She had sat up in bed, suddenly more awake. “Is this that stupid kidnapping thing?”

  “Oh the ‘nap? No, that’s not it. In fact, I’m going to call and cancel that as soon as I get a minute.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good at least.” Jillian had given a sigh of relief. “I never thought that sounded very safe. But if it’s not that, where are you going?”

  “I met him—my prince charming! He’s the most amazing man and he’s got a boat. So we’re going to sail down to Key West for a while. Toby—that’s his name—promised me he’d take me to Hemmingway’s house and show me the six-toed cats. Did you know they had cats that had six toes there?”

  “Wait—who is this man? And where did you meet him? And do you even know who Ernest Hemmingway was?” Jillian had raked a hand through her hair, her older sister protective instincts kicking into high gear.

  “He was some guy that wrote a book about some old man that liked to fish. And it’s not like I really just met him—Toby, not Hemmingway, I mean. I think he’s dead but I don’t care as long as I get to see his six-toed cats.”

  “Yes, but what about Toby?” Jillian had prompted her sister impatiently.

  “Oh, Toby and I have known each other for ages because he comes into the shop all the time.” Sabrina worked at a head shop in Ybor City called High Tide. The owner was a pothead and a free spirit and was extremely tolerant of Sabrina’s frequent need to go off on unplanned adventures on a moment’s notice.

  “At least he’s not a total stranger,” Jillian had grumped, realizing that she had traded one set of worries about her sister’s welfare for another. “But are you sure—”

  “Yes, I’m sure he’s the one!” Sabrina had gushed. “Toby asked me out tonight and we’ve been at the Green Iguana for ages and something just clicked between us. Something special and beaut
iful and perfect. I can’t explain it, Jilly, but I just have to go.”

  “Something beautiful and perfect to do with lots of alcohol maybe?”

  “We only had four banana daiquiris apiece.” Sabrina had sounded insulted.

  Jillian had shaken her head even though she had known her sister couldn’t see her. “Okay, whatever. Just be sure you don’t drive the boat drunk. Or Toby doesn’t, I mean.”

  “We’ll be fine. We have to wait for the tide before we can sail anyway, don’t we, honeybumpkins?”

  “Sure do, sugarpie,” a masculine voice had drawled in the background.

  “Okay, so you’ll feed Buster?” Sabrina had asked, obviously talking to Jillian this time.

  Jillian sighed. “Yes, I’ll feed him. Please be careful though.”

  “As careful as I ever am. Thanks, Jilly! I’ll see you in a few.” And Sabrina had clicked off the phone, leaving Jillian to worry and fume.

  “Buster?” she called again as she went over the conversation with her sister from the night before in her mind. “Buster, where are you? I have tuna, you know you love tuna.”

  A tentative mmmmrrrrow greeted her at last. Buster, who was a big orange and white tomcat with tufted ears like a lynx, crept out from under Sabrina’s beat-to-hell purple couch with a sheepish look on his feline face. He walked a little stiffly due to his advanced age, but when she looked at him, Jillian could still see the fluffy little kitten her mother had rescued from the industrial-sized trash can behind the supermarket.

  “Buster, there you are!” Jillian was torn between affection and irritation. She loved Buster almost as much as her mom but she was going to be late if he didn’t hurry up. “Come on in the kitchen and eat this now. I’m going to be late for work,” she told him.

  Buster looked at her uncertainly at first. But when she waved the tuna can under his pink nose, he started purring and curled around her ankles. His sudden enthusiasm made it difficult to walk the few steps from the living room to the tiny kitchen area but somehow Jillian managed. She dumped the tuna onto a paper plate and sat it on the floor.