Page 67 of Fearless
“Good. It’ll distract them from paying attention to you.” But he didn’t go back to testing the chains. Instead he brought my hands to his lips and pressed soothing kisses to my knuckles.
“You picked a hell of a time to start being sweet to me.” Despite the dire situation, my insides fluttered at the warmth of his lips.
He raised those gorgeous blue eyes to me, sadness and regret pooling in them. “I’m sorry, Mari. I’m just trying to make you feel safer. I’m not thinking about before or what’ll happen once we’re back. Maybe it’s selfish, but I’m taking this one second at a time, and I’m all you got right now. So I’m going to be what you need.”
We were already so close, it was impossible to tell who leaned in first. In the next moment, we were simply kissing. It was nothing like the rough, possessive grab in the market. Gunner was warm and sweet, but still kissed me with a sense of urgency, like we would be ripped away from each other at any second.
I wound my fingers through his hair, gliding my tongue across his to deepen the kiss. I didn’t want this to be the last time, but the first of many more to come. This didn’t have to be just because I was afraid and didn’t have anyone else to lean on. I desperately wanted him to see that, to know I’d been wanting this for weeks, if not the past month. My feelings for him were real, they always had been. And being in love with two other men didn’t diminish them in the least.
“Gunner.”
“Shh.” He sipped another sweet kiss from me, cradling my face in his hands. “Don’t say anything, baby girl. Don’t remind me that you’re not really mine.”
“Gunner…” His name came out in a choked plea that time, my throat already closing up with heartache.
What was the point of all this if he was just going to return me back to my men and ignore me all over again? My heart couldn’t take this yanking around from him. I’d rather deal with Reaper’s cold shoulder over this.
A series of footsteps echoed throughout our stone prison before I could say any more. The guys who captured us returned, solemnly leading another person through the tunnels toward us. As they fanned out to the sides of our open room, I was shocked to see a woman walking straight toward the flat area where we were shackled.
She was attractive in a cold, bitchy way. I estimated her to be in her late thirties or early forties. Pale blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid, the length of it falling over the front of her shoulder. Icy blue eyes peered at us shrewdly. She was dressed like a soldier, in a camo jumpsuit with black laced-up boots. Just by the way she walked, I could tell the uniform wasn’t just for show. By the men’s stiff spines and sharp eyes at attention, all signs pointed to this woman running the operation.
“I had to see for myself to believe it,” she mused, her footsteps halting just out of reach of our chains. “A Steel Demon, and one who came willingly.” She all but ignored me, her eyes resting on Gunner appreciatively. Turning to her men, she asked, “Did someone search him for a tattoo to be sure?”
Silence answered her. A few of them swallowed nervously.
“THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR!”
Her shout came so loud and suddenly, even Gunner flinched. The sound echoed off the stone walls, repeating her wrath down to the men who rushed at us to fulfill her order.
Three of her minions wrenched Gunner away from me, two of them holding him still while the others stripped off his cut and then his T-shirt. Both clothing items discarded in the dirt, they victoriously turned him around to show the proud, grinning demon inked onto his upper back.
“So it is true,” the woman purred. “And what role do you play in your little biker gang, handsome?”
He turned back around to face her, wrenching his arms out of the grips of the men who held him.
“My title is the arms dealer,” he answered flatly. “But I oversee all the major exchanges of goods into the club.”
“I see.” The woman began a slow walk around us, eyes feasting on Gunner like he was the main course of a five-star meal. He ignored her and drew me back into his chest. Despite trying to hide in his embrace, the woman seemed to notice me for the first time. “And who is this?”
“My woman. I purchased her.” He threw a glare at the men surrounding us. “Your goons were trying to steal her, then ignored me when I offered to show them my receipt! Once I’m outta here, I’ll make damn sure no one buys skin from you, lady! What kind of business are you running here, trying to poach what’s already owned?”
“Firstly, my name is Corinne. Remember it. You’ll be moaning my name tonight.” She paused in her appraisal of his body to give a cruel smirk. “And secondly, I know for a fact that you’re lying. It’s common knowledge that the Steel Demons don’t deal in flesh. Fortunately for us, that makes the trade far less competitive. And keeps you out of the loop.”
Gunner’s hands on me stiffened, pulling me into him ever so slightly with protective determination. Corinne continued walking her circle around us, sizing him up as she probably fantasized all the ways she wanted him.
“Now that we’ve established the girl is not owned by you, I frankly don’t care who or what she is.” Her gaze leveled on me, heavy with loathing and disdain. “Females are always in demand, so she’ll go with the rest of them. As long as you have functioning holes for cocks, sweetie, you’ll have purpose here.”
I never saw a smile so evil in my life. What happened to this woman, what twisted her mind up in such a way that she treated fellow women, let alone any human beings, in such a way?
“As for you.” Her voice took on a more wistful tone as she returned to looking at Gunner. “You put me in a predicament, Demon. Your body is an exquisite specimen to be sure, but male flesh is a harder sell.”
“A hole’s a hole,” Gunner shrugged. “Throw me to your buyers, not her. If the only requirement is a hole to stick cocks in, why does male or female matter?”
“Gunner!” I hissed in a whisper. It was bad enough that he got dragged along with me at all. I wasnotgoing to let him be sold off in my place.
“Just further proof you know nothing about the subtleties of this industry,” Corinne said. “Ultimately it comes down to a hole, yes, but what I’m selling are fantasies. A buyer comes to me with an image of a perfect bedroom companion already in his mind. My job is to match that description with an actual body. Rarely are my buyers women. And they’re even pickier in their fantasies than the men.”
She motioned at one of her men, who pulled me away from Gunner. “Stop! What are you doing?” I demanded but there was no use fighting. He dragged me back until the iron cuff bit into my ankle. I could only watch in horror and rage as Corinne approached Gunner and ran a finger just above the waistline of his pants.
