Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

9. Yellow Lace

NINE

Yellow Lace

PIERCE

My fairy godmother arrived at my place at 10 am. I peered through the slats of my kitchen blinds and watched her approach. Henrietta hesitated, glanced back at the street, and then back toward the house. I guess she was deciding whether to go through with our rendezvous. The brave woman clutched a box of Thin Mints in her delicate hands.

Henrietta wore a lacy yellow dress. Prim and pretty, it wasn’t something a woman wore when she intended to have sex.

That worried me. I didn’t want to force our first time together. That would come later. Hmm, I had an idea.

Her yellow heels gave her some trouble on the uneven walkway, but she came to me with a determined stride.

Excitement itched along my skin as I watched through my kitchen window.

My preparations were in order. The kitchen was spotless, except for what I had set out for lunch. Through the archway, the living room was neat and tidy. The loveseat stood ready and welcoming, with throw pillows and a soft cover-up. I’d piled the two wingback chairs full of books. We were to sit together, not apart. I had even changed the sheets on my bed. It would be the first and last consideration I gave Henrietta.

I’d hidden a video camera in the spine of one of the books. I had it primed where all I had to do was hit one button. Afterward, I’d make her watch the video over and over again. I intended to keep it looping beside her cage—a constant reminder of her willing participation and how eagerly she’d given herself to me.

Energy sizzled through my body, making me jump when a hesitant knock sounded on the door.

My heart hammered beneath my breastbone. I was so excited to welcome her home.

I didn’t answer.

The silence stretched until she knocked again. Pressing my forehead against the door, I stared through the keyhole.

She was damned adorable chewing on her lower lip. I waited until she raised her hand to knock a third time and then pulled the door open.

I took her raised hand and kissed it.

The richness of her scent, light and floral, had me grinning ear to ear. She was perfect. Older than what I usually collected, but still innocent and na?ve.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed, as I let my arms wrap around her waist.

Henrietta endured a much more intimate welcome than she may have expected, and, to my delight, she didn’t pull away. It gave me an opening to kiss her cheek and keep my hands wrapped around her waist.

“Hello,” I murmured in my most seductive voice.

She flushed and tried to stand on her own, but I pulled her across the threshold, keeping her in my embrace. It was one of those open, awkward holds you only saw at the beginning of a first date. But, she’d have to get used to my touch. Might as well start now.

“Come in, Henrietta. Sorry I didn’t get to the door sooner. I was preoccupied.” The first of many lies I would tell. Truth was for later.

I released my hold on her waist and took the box of Thin Mints out of her hand. She didn’t pull away.

Henrietta took a moment to compose herself, but pink dusted her cheeks. Even her breathing was uneven.

I tried to remember how long ago her husband had died. When was the last time this woman had been held down by a man and truly fucked? No wonder she was nervous.

I gave her a most charming smile. “Holding a beautiful woman in my arms is the perfect beginning to a long day.” I lifted my brows for the briefest moment to confirm I was interested in more than a simple lunch.

Now was the time for her to decide whether to stay or go.

If she had any sense, she would run back to her car. Instead, she followed me to the kitchen.

Her gaze passed over my prep bowls. “Looks like you know what you’re doing.”

I nodded. “I went to culinary school for a few years.” The monotony of cooking soothed me.

“Are you a chef? I thought you worked for a florist?”

“I was a chef for a time, never a job that panned out. And, now, as you know, I work nights in the floral department at a gardening center. I’m a man of many talents. I can arrange a bouquet and whip up a delectable feast.” I was a woman’s wet dream and her worst nightmare.

“I couldn’t imagine sleeping through the day. Must be strange.”

“I black out the curtains in my bedroom, and I invested in soundproofing on all the walls.” That was true, but not for the reasons she thought.

She nodded. Poor thing had no idea.

I gestured to a stool. “Sit. Do you like red or white wine?”

“It’s ten in the morning,” she exclaimed. “I rarely drink this early.”

I gave a false laugh. “Sorry, my days and nights are messed up. For me, it’s late evening. I usually have something before bed.” I lifted a bottle of white wine. “You sure you won’t drink with me?”

She did that thing with her lip again. Total turn on. I intended to make use of that mouth after we ate. For now, that tiny sign of her nervousness made the swelling in my pants all the more uncomfortable.

She hesitated for what seemed like forever. I turned my back to her to hide my irritation. If she didn’t sayyessoon, I would slap her stupid face and carry her downstairs.

Fortunately, she agreed.

Good thing.

I was hungry and wanted to eat before we had sex. I poured two glasses of wine, using my body to block what I was doing as I added a white powder to her drink. It would make her pliable without drugging her too much.

I handed her the wine. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” she repeated. “Um, to new friendships?”

Oh, we would be more than friends. “To new possibilities.”

Her flushing came easily. I loved how transparent her emotions were. She must have felt brave because she lifted her glass a second time. “To…new possibilities.”

We drank to new possibilities while I decided how I would fuck her first.

I drank from my glass, watching her take two deep swallows. Time to lower the heat, make her comfortable, and tone down the references to our pending sex-fest. I would lose her if I was too aggressive, even with the drug in her system. I wanted her pliable and lucid, not passed out.

For the next forty minutes, we chatted while I made lunch. I boiled pasta and whipped up a cream sauce, which I let her taste, teasing her as I did. A few minutes later, her words slurred, and her lids drooped.

I asked her to prep the salad, and she accomplished the task without complaint or further direction. She poured a second glass of wine for me and then put a generous amount into her cup.

The more the wine bottle emptied, the less inhibited she became. I took advantage of every opportunity to touch her, lengthening my caresses as the morning drew on. As I finished my Alfredo sauce, I had her taste one last time. I purposefully dripped the sauce on her chin. When I leaned in to lick it off, she grew still as a statue, but she didn’t push me away.

I didn’t kiss her, although I wanted to. I nearly came right there, tasting the sweetness of her skin. Instead, I took her hand and led her to the table. “Come, let’s set the table.”

A look of disappointment flickered across her face.

I was getting to that.

She helped with the table, and I told her to have a seat while I served our plates. She complied, following my direction. That would serve her well in the days to come.

Lunch proceeded rather innocently. I sat across from her, and we traded nothing of consequence for most of the meal. As I poured her a third glass of wine, we gazed into each other’s eyes, and then her foot tentatively touched my shin. She looked at me through her lashes, her eyes glazed from the wine and the effects of the drug.

I smiled. “Maybe we should retire to the living room?”

Henrietta wobbled as she stood. “I’ll clear the table.”

I came around and put my arm around her waist. “The table will wait. I can’t.”

Her eyes darted to the empty couch and then to the hallway leading deeper into my home.

“I’ve never…I mean…”

I placed my finger over her lips, silencing her. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. Come, let’s sit on the couch and talk. There’s no rush.”

Her eyes flicked back to the hallway and then to the couch. She wanted to go to my room, but I steered her to the living room instead. She would think well of my control later.

“It’s just…” Her hands trembled, and her voice shook. “I haven’t been with anyone since Joe’s death.”

I pulled her close. “Let’s just talk. Time enough for more, later.”

The tension in her body eased at my words. I settled her on the couch and sat beside her. With an arm wrapped around her shoulders, I pulled her close.

“Tell me about your husband.”

She sniffed and tensed. “No, Joe’s not here anymore, and it’s past time I moved on.” She turned to face me. “Will you kiss me, please? Like really kiss me?”