Chapter Six

What If?

Tucker

Evading the roots of the old trees that lined the dirt track, his grip tightened on Ella's body. She whimpered over his shoulder, finally hushed. The abrupt spanking seemed to have tamed her, her body limp as it sprawled by the side of his head.

Fixing his stare ahead, he dismissed the delicious distraction her proximity provided. Even though she was older than he'd assumed, there were still far too many decades between them for her to have caught his eye. Yet despite his current glib indifference to the opposite sex, Ella had reminded him that he was still a red-blooded man.

It had been so long since he'd had a woman.

Too long.

So long since he'd held the warmth of a feminine body next to his and breathed in her intoxicating scent.

Stop.

His back straightened, his focus turning away from the temptation of Ella's body. He couldn't do this, couldn't go down that road.

The mud trail he was walking on looked clear and well-defined compared to the murky path his mind was straying down. Ella wasn't his lover. She was his hostage, collateral. That was all.

She wasn't more.

Could never be, however his neglected cock might protest.

But what if?

The question lingered, ricocheting as he climbed the mud bank. His cabin was no more than a mile away. They were nearly home.

What if she is more? What if she wants me, too?

He glanced back at her and instantly regretted the action. Why had he insisted she bared her ass for the remainder of the trip? Sure, disgracing her was a smart and effective way to assert his authority, but truly, what had he been thinking? How was he supposed to concentrate on anything with her sex so close to his face? The scent of her femininity goaded his nostrils, daring him to act.

No.

His jaw clenched as he denied the primal urges.

No, he wasn't going to throw her to the earth and take what he wanted.

No. No. No.

He was a mercenary. A man who'd made his money from other people's misfortune. A man who had little regard for the feelings of others and even less remorse when he benefited from their mistakes, but still… even monsters had lines that they didn't cross.

Didn't they?

She doesn't want me.

Swallowing back his lust, he repeated the words in his mind like a mantra.

She didn't want him. She didn't want him, but even if, by some miracle, she did—so what? This wasn't about sex. Ella was the warranty that her useless crock of a father would eventually pay up. She was a part of a financial arrangement.

"Er…" Her voice trembled as she splintered his conflicted thoughts. "Tucker?"

"What is it?"

He hadn't intended his reply to be so terse, but the idea of sliding his shaft into her wet places was an enticing fantasy, even if he knew it could never come to fruition. He hadn't welcomed the interruption.

"I'm sorry, but… I need to pee."

What was that in her voice? Contrition? She didn't sound much like the firecracker who'd countered him at every opportunity.

"Can't you wait?" His pace didn't slow. "We're not far from my cabin."

"Not really." She wriggled against his shoulder, inadvertently stirring more of the captivating scent that had already thrilled his dick. "I've been desperate for a while, but…" Her voice trailed away.

"But what?"

His boots stopped in the dirt, the sudden stillness forcing him to acknowledge her temptation. She smelled fantastic, like the sorts of expensive soap he'd only ever encountered at fancy hotels.

"But I didn't want to upset you again."

There. His lips twitched. She'd admitted that his spanking had provoked the desired effect. Ella was prepared to think twice before she rocked Tucker's boat again. That was good.

That was exceptionally good.

The girl could be trained. It meant their time together would be all the more palatable. For him, at least.

"Ask me nicely."

She never saw the way his smile widened nor how his eyes closed as she replied. It might have been the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

"Please, Tucker." Her body tensed over his shoulder. "I really do need to go."

‘Please, Tucker.' Her plaintive plea echoed in his mind. ‘Please, Tucker. Please.'

"Okay." How could he say no to such a hot, breathy entreaty? "But make it quick."

Lowering her to her feet, he noticed her reddened face as her gaze flitted away.

"Will you free my feet, please?" The blush on her cheeks deepened as she asked.

"Absolutely not." Was she fucking joking?

"But I'll need to squat." Desperation flickered in her attractive eyes. "I can't do that like this." She motioned to her bound ankles.

"Hmmm." He hadn't thought of that. A woman's needs were so different from that of a man.

"Please." She heaved in a breath as though the act of begging was painful. Perhaps for a girl from the right side of the tracks, it was?

"I don't trust you." He met her stare, ensuring his bored into hers as he went on. "And if you run, you're really going to piss me off."

"I won't run." Her fettered wrists rose to her chest as though she was imploring him.

"And I'm supposed to believe you because…" His hands rose to his hips. "You say so?"

"No." She pressed her thighs together as though she was working hard not to wet herself. "Because it's the truth. I get it, Tucker. There's no point in running. You're faster than me, and you know these woods." She looked above her at the canopy of trees. "I won't win."

His brow rose at her admission. Where had this abrupt supplication come from? Surely, this good girl was too good to be true.

"That's right." He stepped toward her. "You won't and don't forget it."

"I won't." She sounded weary as she met his gaze before glancing away at the ground. "So, will you untie me?"

"No." Reaching for his belt, his fingers grazed over the implement he wanted. "But I'll cut you a deal."

Grabbing the handle, he slid his blade from its sheath and lowered it between them.

"Oh God!" She stumbled backward, her eyes so glued to the weapon that she lost her footing and fell.

Time seemed to stop as she plummeted. Dropping the knife, he swooped, catching her arm and yanking her back against him. In a flash, their bodies were pressed together, her breaths coming faster as her eyes widened.

"Careful," he warned, secretly relishing the physical contact. It pained him to move away, but he needed to reclaim his blade, and searching the ground, he noticed its metal gleam.

"But I thought..." Her breaths were labored as his fingers grasped the handle of the knife again.

"No," he interrupted, realizing her concern. "I already told you. I don't have plans to hurt you, Ella. The blade is to cut you loose."

"Oh." For the first time, she might have been speechless.

"Right."

A part of him couldn't believe he was even contemplating slicing through her ropes, but he reasoned she was correct. His impromptu spanking had probably put the fear of God into her, and even if she did run, how far could she get? Her hands would still be bound, and so close to his cabin, she'd be lost on his turf. She wouldn't stand a chance. Still, the idea of freeing her feet nagged as he lowered to one knee.

"I'm taking a leap of faith doing this." Lifting his gaze, he found her staring down at him. "Do yourself a favor and don't let me down."

Lifting the blade to her ankles, he cut through the ropes with relative ease. His hunting knife was designed to get through far tougher things than the lines Bennett had chosen.

"There." He rose to his feet, the blade still clasped in his hand as their gazes locked. "Go by that tree." He signaled behind her. "I'll wait here." He knew his stride could outrun her if need be.

"Thanks." She looked genuinely stunned at his compliance, and fleetingly, he wondered if he'd just made a terrible mistake releasing her.

No. He inhaled. It's okay.Whatever happens, I'll handle it.

"Go." His voice deepened. "And no messing me around."

"I'm not," she assured him, twisting around to see the tree he meant. "Are you going to w-watch me?" Her brow furrowed as she glanced back.

"Of course." What did she think was going to happen?

"Oh." She retreated, blushing harder and reaching for the sturdy trunk with her bound wrists as she neared. "It's just… I don't know if I can go when you're watching."

For fuck's sake.

"I thought you were desperate?" He drew in a breath, determined not to lose his cool over her delay. This, he decided, was one of the reasons he'd chosen the single life. Women were a perpetual nuisance.

"I am." She leaned against the tree, likely aiming to look casual and yet failing miserably.

He smiled at the look of her, the levity easing his irritation. "Then go." He gestured to the spot behind her. "Before I change my mind."

"Okay." Frowning, she edged away from the tree a few inches, her reddened ass rousing his need again. Her hands rose to the waistband of her panties and paused as she risked a tentative glance back in his direction.

"Problem?"

Of course, he understood her hesitation. She was embarrassed… just as she'd been when he'd tipped her over his knee and chastised her. No doubt she didn't want to urinate in front of him. No doubt, nothing about this day had been what she'd have chosen, but frankly, that wasn't his problem.

"No." She turned away quickly.

"Get a move on, Ella." His tone was melodic as he watched her lower into a deep squat.

"I'm moving." She sounded on the verge of tears as she struggled to find an optimum position. Her joggers, it seemed, were in the way and needed to be pulled down to her ankles to avoid being caught in the stream, but rather than finding her amusing, he was utterly enthralled by her performance.

Observing her was like hypnosis. Each fidgety movement and gasped breath she offered were so captivating that he almost forgot what she was there to do.

Ella was breathtaking.

"Oh God." Her head fell as she finally relieved herself. "I can't believe this."

He smirked at her distress, her words snapping him out of whatever spell she'd conjured. Perhaps her mortification would serve them both. He didn't know much about the woman who would now share his home, but if he had to guess, she'd been rather spoiled and indulged up to this point in her life. It was possible that this humbling experience would offer her a new perspective.

"Ready?" he called out, not because he was frantic to resume the journey but because rattling her was fast becoming his favorite new game.

"Y-yes."

He watched as she wriggled back to her feet, tugging her skimpy underwear up to cover what was left of her modesty.

"I'm coming." She refused to meet his stare as she walked back toward him, her gaze remaining rooted to the ground.

He noticed how she'd edged her joggers further up her hips, so the majority of her backside was now covered, but he resisted the urge to press the point. There would be plenty of time to strip the tantalizing blonde.

Let her think she'd won this battle. The war was still to come.

"Well done." He hadn't intended for his tone to be so patronizing, but as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, he realized that he might mean the sentiment. "You didn't run."

"I told you I wouldn't."

Her chin rose, allowing her eyes to find his. He was surprised at the resolve he found there and by the conviction in her tone. Clearly, little Ella had more steel than he'd given her credit for.

"You did." He arched a brow at her. "And I trusted you. How about that—we're getting on like a house on fire?"

"Right." Her tone was cynical, but he noticed how her lips twitched. "Brilliant. Mind if I take my sweater off?" She motioned to the chunky hoodie she was wearing. "I'm hot."

"Sure, but since I'm not untying your hands, it will have to stay tucked at your wrists." As far as he was concerned, he'd been compromising enough.

Her brow creased. "Can't you just untie me?"

"No can do."

"Forget it then." She sighed, her resignation making him wonder if the suggestion had only been a plan to make a break for it, after all.

"Fine." It was no skin off his nose as he glanced in the direction of home. "Let's carry on, then."

"Please, may I walk?" She caught her lip between her teeth as though she accepted it was an ask too far.

"No chance." Chuckling, he beckoned her forward with his index finger. He'd been willing to compromise to tend to her physical needs, but Ella needed to understand—she was still the hostage. "Over my shoulder, young lady."