5. Kaylee
Five
Kaylee
Now that you’re caught up, let’s get back to that kidnapping…
“I can’t let you leave,” I say softly. “Not until you agree to buy one of the houses I’ve shown you.”
Oh god. What am I doing? What is happening right now?
Logan’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he frowns, his eyes cutting between me, the front door, and the snow outside, his broad shoulders tense. “I’m not allowed to leave.” He says it slowly, almost monotone, his hands on his hips.
I lick my lips. This…I’m insane. This is insane.
“That’s what I said,” I answer, tipping my chin up to compensate for the tremor in my voice.
“This is kidnapping, you know,” he says, and when his eyes flash to mine, I can see the anger there.
Anger, and…something else.
Something hot and dangerous.
Kidnapping. Kidnapping? Oh, holy shit. No. This isn’t kidnapping. That’s like…with ropes and blindfolds and stuff. Bodies in trunks. Not keys flung into the snow in a moment of insanity.
Ropes. Blindfolds. Even through my panic, the idea of using ropes and blindfolds with Logan has a pulse beating between my thighs. Would I rather tie him up, or have him tie me up? My clit pulses at the idea of being tied up and at his mercy…
Jesus, Kaylee. Stop being so horny for a second and focus.
What if he calls the police and I get arrested? I can’t go to jail.
Then again, at least jails are heated and you get three meals a day. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
I am completely, undeniably in over my head.
I twist my fingers together in front of me, trying to hide the tremble in my hands. Logan is staring at me as though I’ve completely lost my mind, and he wouldn’t be wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t mean to…well, no, okay. I did mean to do that, but my intention isn’t to kidnap you.”
“What would you call holding someone against their will?”
“Um…an opportunity to review all of the houses we’ve looked at because John said if I don’t sell you one, like, today, he’s going to fire me and then I’m not going to be able to pay my rent and I’ll be homeless and…and…” I suck in a gasping breath.
Oh god. I’m crying. Hot tears streak down my cheeks as I clench and unclench my fists.
“I won’t have anywhere to go,” I say, my breath catching in my chest. “I’m…alone, and…and…I’m desperate. So, no. You can’t leave until you sign the papers to buy something.”
“Kaylee,” Logan says, his voice a quiet growl, and when I look up at him, all of the anger in his expression has vanished, melting into something softer. He’s looking at me with a tenderness I don’t deserve, considering what I’ve just done. “Baby, don’t cry.”
He moves towards me and suddenly I’m in his arms, nestled against the hard wall of his chest. I suck in a shaky breath, pulling the delicious scent of him into my lungs. He smells like forest and snow and fresh wood. Like leather and warmth and man. Instantly, I know I want that scent all over my skin.
“Don’t be nice to me,” I say, my voice coming out in ragged sobs. “You’re my hostage. You’re supposed to be angry at me.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t. You stole my truck keys and chucked them into the pines during a snowstorm. But I can also see that you’re upset, so hostage or not, I’m here for you.”
Despite my better judgment, I find myself pressing my face against him, snuggling into his solid warmth. I take several deep breaths, settling myself. After a moment, the tears stop.
I melt into him, letting my shoulders relax because for the first time in a very long time, I feel safe. I feel like everything might be okay. Even though I’m the one holding him here against his will, I need his comfort.
“I kidnapped you,” I snuffle against him, and he chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through me. “You’re stuck here because of me. And I feel bad about that. But as soon as you sign offer papers on any of the houses I’ve shown you, I’ll go find your keys.”
“You think you’re going to find them in that?”
I turn my face and look out the windows to see nothing but a wall of white. In the few minutes since I ran outside, the snow has gotten heavier and thicker. It’s coming down in fast, dense flakes, sticking to everything it touches. A gust of wind blows, rattling the trees and sending flakes swirling against the windows.
“I’ll go and look for the keys now before it gets worse. You can have them back when you sign.” I start to pull away, but his grip tightens on me, keeping me in place. Not that I mind.
“You’re not going out in that, baby. You’re going to stay right here with me. We’re warm and safe in here, and we can wait out the storm.”
Lucky for us, this place is furnished, and the owners are out of town. They mostly use it as a mountain getaway, not a full-time residence, according to their realtor.
“I’m sorry, Logan. I’m sorry for doing this. I hope you know that.”
He slips a hand under my chin and tilts my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “No more apologies. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be right now.” He sighs, smoothing a hand up and down my back, and heat pools low in my stomach. He probably wouldn’t be touching me like this if he knew how much it was turning me on. If he knew I was imagining what those hands would feel like on my breasts. Between my legs. “I’m a very willing hostage,” he adds, a huskiness in his voice that has my toes curling.
I need to get a grip. Clearly I’m losing it. I tossed his keys away in a snowstorm and now I’m getting all horny because his hands are on me.
“Are you?” I ask, snuggling into him and soaking this up while it lasts. Because soon, he’s going to pull away and I want to remember every single detail, from the feel of his hands on me, the press of his body against mine, to the scent of his cologne and the fabric of his shirt against my cheek.
“Mmm,” he rumbles out, his chest vibrating with the sound.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I do feel bad. I showed him a side of myself that I’m not proud of. The impulsive, desperate side. My face flames as I think about just how crazy I must’ve looked.
The wind blows harder outside as Logan holds me, and the power flickers, just for a second.
“What do we do now?” I ask, rubbing my face against his chest. He lets out a soft grunt that makes my neglected clit throb. I want to rub myself all over him, like an affection starved cat. I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me like this.
It’s been…years.
He lets out another low chuckle. “You’re the kidnapper. You tell me.”
“I don’t know,” I say, an impatient bite to my words. “I didn’t exactly plan this out.”
With a sigh, he pulls back. “Why don’t you see what the food situation is while I grab some firewood? I saw a pile out back. Figure we’d better get a fire going in case we lose power. Do you know if this place has a generator?”
“Yes, it does. No idea if there’s gas in it, though.” I swallow and take a step back, already missing the heat of him against me. “Don’t run, Logan. You can’t…don’t run.” I’ll lose everything if he does.
He takes a step towards me, his dark eyes glittering as a smirk pulls up the corner of his lips. “What are you going to do, Kaylee? Chase me through the snow? Tie me to a chair?” He steps right into my space. “Cuff me to that big bed upstairs?” His voice takes on a gritty timbre and it makes me shiver.
I might be the kidnapper, but even I’m not delusional enough to think I have any control in this situation. Logan’s over a foot taller than me, and probably a hundred pounds heavier.
“If I have to.”
He grins at me, and suddenly it feels like we’re flirting. Are we flirting? I have no idea.
“Think about which house you’re going to buy while you’re out there. I have all of the papers in my bag.”
His gaze travels up and down my body, making my nipples bead and my clit throb. “And what if I go right to the cops as soon as we’re out of here?”
Yes. This definitely feels like flirting.
I reach for a confidence I didn’t know I had. “Who’s going to believe that little old me kidnapped you?” I blink at him, and the corner of his mouth tugs up in an enticing way.
Before I can move, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering along my jaw and sending sparks dancing over my skin.
“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
My mouth falls open as I scramble for how to react to that, but before I can remember how to speak, Logan pulls away, slips on his boots and disappears outside.
I head into the kitchen, and thankfully, it doesn’t appear to have been too long since the owners were here, as there’s plenty in the cupboards. I find tea bags and put the kettle on, figuring I might as well be a hospitable kidnapper. As I wait for the water to heat, I peruse the kitchen. The fridge is pretty empty, but I find canned soup, pasta and unopened sauce in a jar, potato chips, instant oatmeal, and some crackers in the pantry. Not bad.
I open the freezer and find a frozen lasagna, ice cream, and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.
Okay. The selection is limited, but at least we won’t starve if we’re stuck here until tomorrow.
Next time I kidnap someone, I should really plan further ahead.
The thought is enough to have laughter bubbling out of my mouth. I’m unhinged. I’ve gone from blisteringly angry to crying to cuddling and flirting to laughing. Who am I?
I brace my hands on the counter and take a couple of deep breaths while the kettle heats up. I still can’t quite believe the turn things have taken over the past fifteen minutes. I trapped Logan here with me. On purpose, sort of. He’s right. I’m a kidnapper. He could have me arrested.
And yet…I don’t think he will.
I can’t stop replaying his comment that he’s a very willing hostage . That I’m fucking perfect . What does that mean?
The kettle starts to boil, so I find two mugs and make us each a cup of tea.
If someone had told me that this was how my day was going to go today, I would not have believed them. Hey, Kaylee, before the sun sets, you’ll have kidnapped your client and forced him to buy a house. But don’t worry, he’s a willing hostage, so it’ll all work out.
Will it? Even if he signs the papers, he could still back out of the sale. But maybe the signature would be enough to save my job. Enough to keep a roof over my head.
Worry tugs at me, but I push it aside when a snow-covered Logan stomps back inside, his arms full of logs. Snowflakes cling to his dark hair, and his nose is red from the cold. He toes off his boots by the back door, then heads toward the fireplace in the living room. I can’t seem to take my eyes off his broad, muscular back as he crouches down and sets to work getting a fire going with expert ease. I love watching him move, the way his muscles bunch and flex beneath his clothes. And now I know what’s beneath those clothes. Well, beneath his shirt, anyway.
I’d nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of Logan chopping wood shirtless yesterday. All that skin, all those muscles, covered in a fine dusting of dark hair. Before bed, I’d touched myself to thoughts of him, that chest, those arms, moving above me as he fucked me hard and deep, making me scream his name as I thanked him for making me feel so good.
I watch as Logan pushes up his sleeves, rearranging the logs in the fireplace.
He’s so strong and capable. So big and smart and confident.
He’s honestly perfect in every single way. I don’t even mind his grumpiness. It suits him.
Within minutes, a fire is crackling merrily in the fireplace, which is a good thing, because a strong gust of wind outside has the power flickering again.
I pick up the two mugs of tea and square my shoulders, taking them into the living room. Logan takes his with a small smile.
“My, what civilized conditions you’re keeping me in.” His tone is dry, but I can see a flicker of humor in his eyes.
“So,” I say, sitting down on the couch. Logan sits down on the opposite end, watching me intently. “Have you thought about which house you’re going to buy?”
“Mmm.” It’s a completely non-committal sound. I watch his mouth as he purses his lips, blowing steam away from the rim of his mug. What would it feel like if he did that over my nipple? My clit? I shift subtly in my seat, trying to ignore the throb between my thighs. “Let’s rewind a bit, first. John said he’s going to fire you if you don’t get me to buy a house?”
I roll my lips inward and nod. “Yes. Multiple times.”
He frowns. “I see.” He sets his tea down and rubs a hand over his face. “This is my fault.”
“How is this your fault? I’m the one who failed to find you the right house. I’m the one who threw your keys into the snow.”
He sighs. “Does John always give you a hard time?”
I’m careful, because I’m pretty sure John’s his friend. “Um, well. He just has high expectations, and…” I lick my lips. “He’s been threatening to fire me for a few days now, and he just…”
“Just what?”
“I don’t think he likes me very much. He was…upset when you insisted on hiring me as your realtor.”
Logan shakes his head. “I’ll take care of John, Kaylee. It’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do is buy one of the houses I’ve shown you.” I sip my tea, wrapping my fingers around the mug for warmth. Outside, flakes pelt the windows as the wind blows them sideways.
“Mmm.” That sound is both infuriating and intoxicating. He sighs, his big shoulders rising and falling. “Kaylee, I have a confession to make. And I really hope you don’t hate me for it, because it’s my fault you’ve had John breathing down your neck. This, all of it, is my fault.” He picks up his tea and takes another sip.
I frown, shaking my head. “So you’ve said, but I don’t understand.”
A muscle in Logan’s jaw jumps as he sets his mug down, then scrubs a hand over his mouth. He takes a breath, and then meets my eyes. “I rejected every house you showed me not because there was something wrong with it, but because I wanted to keep looking at houses with you.”
I stare at him, confusion and anger rooting me to the spot. “What do you mean? Why would you do that? You’ve been wasting my time on purpose? Why?” My anger spikes and I push to my feet, pacing in front of the couch. “Do you have any idea how much stress I’ve been under because of you? How many sleepless nights I’ve had, thinking I was going to lose my job? You pushed me to commit a felony, for crying out loud!” I’m full on shouting now, and I don’t care. My vision is red-tinged at the edges, and something wild and raw is clawing at my chest.
He stands, too, towering over me, but not in an intimidating way. “Kaylee, I—“
But I’m too angry, and I cut him off. “You what? Decided it would be funny to mess with my job, my life? I could end up homeless because of you!” I’m shaking now, tears pricking at my eyes as I clench my hands into fists at my sides.
I am not okay. Clearly.
He reaches out, his hands landing on my shoulders, and I hate the way his touch makes me soften instantly. I hate the power he has over me. I hate the way my body responds to him, even when I’m furious. “Kaylee, I’m sorry.”
“Fuck your sorry!” I yell, slamming my hands into his chest and pushing hard. Of course, he doesn’t budge, as immovable as the mountains surrounding us. “Get out!” I try again, pushing with all of my might. “Get out, get out, get out!” He doesn’t move. I’d probably have more luck dragging the refrigerator outside by myself than getting Logan Armstrong to move.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his gorgeous mouth, and god, that only makes me angrier. “You kidnapped me, remember? I can’t leave. That’s sort of the basis for how this works. Kidnapper,” he says, pointing at me. “Hostage.” He points at himself.
I let out a completely undignified shriek and shove against his chest again. “Then…no talking! No more talking! Because everything you say—“
This time, he cuts me off. “Don’t you want to know why I did it? Why I rejected all those houses? Why I wanted to spend time with you?”
I glare at him. “Fine. I’ll bite. Why?”
He closes the distance between us and slowly slides his arms around me. Heat that has nothing to do with my anger flares to life inside me. Damn him.
“Because I’m in love with you, Kaylee.”