Chapter 2 Cade
CADE
This isn’t my first kidnapping. Not by a long stretch.
But it is the first time I’ve been on this side of it.
Not gonna lie—it’s a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
It probably has a lot to do with the butterfly who cast himself in the role of my kidnapper.
A very sexy kidnapper with a cute ass. God, what I wouldn’t give to fuck it. I don’t even care that he knocked me in the temple with my own dagger. I’d totally forgive him if he let me fuck him.
That’s probably not what I should be focusing on right now, but honestly, this situation isn’t bothering me. It’s not like I couldn’t get myself free if I tried.
I suspect letting myself be taken will be far more interesting. It’s been a while since anyone’s captured my interest.
And this butterfly now has one hundred percent of my attention.
“Oh god, what do I do now? Oh fuck,” I hear him murmur. My eyes flutter open, a shot of pain moving through my temple, but I’ve had worse.
I watch him pace back and forth on the forest floor. He must’ve cut me loose, because I’m no longer upside down and I can feel leaves and twigs digging into my back. The moonlight filters through the trees, throwing the worried lines of his face into sharp relief.
I could get up and walk away. My brothers would probably want me to do that. Wylder might even punch me if he finds out I had the chance to escape and didn’t.
But why would I when this is exactly where I want to be?
At first, when he held my dagger in his hand, I thought maybe he planned on killing me.
Seeing as I’m still very much alive, I’m going with kidnapping instead. Seems logical. Maybe he didn’t buy my fake name. It’s not like my face is unknown. It appears in the media every time we go to an event.
And not to brag, but I am the sexiest of all my brothers.
Even if Ansel doesn’t know I’m part of The Firm, I’m still a Buckingham. We’re known to fetch a pretty penny. Or we would be, if the kidnappers ever made it that far.
No one has survived to collect a ransom yet.
Ansel rakes his hands through his hair. For someone who clearly had a trap laid, he doesn’t seem very confident in his abilities. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You should tie me up,” I say softly, and he jolts slightly, his eyes widening.
“What? What the fuck?”
I nod enthusiastically, hiding my wince at the pain that goes through my temple once more. “You should tie me up first.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I speak slowly and clearly. “Grab some rope. You brought some with you, right? Tie me up. That’s the first thing you should do when kidnapping someone.”
He stares at me, those pretty eyes blinking down at me. “I—what—no.”
Bless him. This must be his first time. “Yes. Go on, little butterfly. Go get the rope and come back. I’ll still be here. Waiting very patiently.”
His blond hair falls onto his forehead again. He pushes it back, but to no avail. It might be my favorite thing about him. I want to grab hold of it as I force his mouth onto my cock.
“Are you the police?”
That makes me laugh as I undo my watch from my wrist and discreetly drop it onto the ground.
My phone is already on the floor. Must’ve fallen out at the same time as my dagger, but I was too distracted to notice.
That’s good. The last thing I want is for my brothers to track me down and spoil my fun.
They probably won’t even notice I’m missing for a few days, but I’m not taking any chances.
“Fuck no. Just a mentor, helping a mentee.”
He still doesn’t believe it, lifting his chin defiantly. I might buy the bravado if his lower lip weren’t wobbling.
Fuck, he’s so cute.
“I’m not leaving you. You’re going to make a run for it. You’re going to call the cops. No, I’m going to stay here and…”
“And what?” I ask, so curious.
“And…and tie you up with your shirt.”
My arms flop up over my bloody forehead as I wait for him to strip me down. Oh yes, he can strip me down and tie me up for sure.
It’s been a while since I’ve been so intrigued.
He eyes me and then purses his lips, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head. My chest is bare now, and I can see the heavy way he breathes as he stares at it.
He must see the raven tattoo on my hip, because his eyes widen suddenly. He likes what he sees, but doesn’t want to. He wants to hate me. That’s fine. I get it. It’s easier to kidnap someone you really don’t like.
But it’s clear he’s too hot and bothered to be fully on board with disliking me.
Perfect.
Ansel seems to need some encouragement to get on our way. “Go on. Tie my hands behind my back.”
His lip is trembling again. “Stop talking or I’ll put this in your mouth.”
That makes my cock perk up. Oh yes, put it in my mouth. The fabric, his fingers. Even his cock.
I’d love that.
Instead, I just roll over with a grunt and put my wrists together behind my back. “There. Go on.”
“I’m gonna kill you.” The tremble in his voice has me wanting to do all sorts of depraved things to him.
“Mm, with a knife? I’m not opposed to blood play.”
He hisses. It only makes me harder. By now, my cock is trying to fuck the soil.
It throbs when he tightens the fabric around my wrists.
The knot is good—tight. But not tight enough.
I could get out, but I won’t. I’m too invested in this playing out the right way.
This is the best first date I’ve ever had.
I only wanted a hookup with Ansel, but he’s proving far too interesting to walk away from now.
I glance behind me to see the indecision on his face.
I bite back my smile. “Now, help me up. I need lots of help, by the way.”
He huffs, but does as I say, his fingers lightly brushing against my hips, my arms, my chest. I make a show of it, struggling to stand. I make sure to rub against him as much as I can—accidentally, of course. By the time I’m fully on my feet, he’s pink in the cheeks.
I wonder what he looks like when he’s coming.
Probably a bit like this. An angry little butterfly.
“You wanna know what to do next?”
“No. I know what to do. I don’t need your help.”
He purses his lips again, and it takes everything within me not to lean forward and bite him. He reaches down and grabs the dagger from his pocket, holding it out toward me like he’s going to cut me.
My dick jumps in my pants.
He has to see it. I’m not small. But he doesn’t look my way. My cock doesn’t get a single glance.
When he doesn’t move to do anything, I sigh.
I can’t help but want to lead him. Seeing him follow my orders is doing all sorts of things to me.
Plus, I don’t want someone spotting us and ruining the fun.
“All right, well, now I think you should put me in the trunk. But walk casually. You don’t want anyone to suspect what’s going on. ”
He rolls his eyes, but his arm wraps around my bicep, his fingers tightening against me. His nails dig in, and I grunt in pleasure as he leads me forward.
“I’m parked around back. No cameras there.”
“Great,” I say as my foot purposely lands on the watch. All the Buckinghams wear one, including Wyatt, and for a very good reason. It’s not just a watch, but a tracking device. The loud crunch has satisfaction running through me. Hopefully that’ll be enough.
I don’t want to be found. I’m having too much fun.
I hear a beep, and I spot a Toyota Camry with the trunk popped open. I walk a little faster.
“What the hell?” Ansel whispers as I sit down in the trunk and flop sideways.
“Close the trunk, butterfly,” I murmur. He doesn’t do anything. He’s frozen in the moonlight, like he can’t believe any of this is happening.
I smile encouragingly. “You’ve got this. I’m all tucked in, snug as a bug. Close the trunk and let’s get this show on the road.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little unhinged?”
I wink. “Butterfly, you have no idea.”
He stares down at me, unsure and in disbelief, but then the trunk closes and everything goes black.
Oh yes.
Best first date ever.
The car ride is bumpy, but not as bad as I was expecting. I think Ansel is taking it easy, going around corners slowly and carefully.
The logical explanation would be that he’s avoiding attention, that he doesn’t want to be seen as suspicious.
I think he’s just being considerate and trying not to rough me up too much.
Little does he know how much I fucking love that.
His hesitation to hurt me makes me suspect he’s not used to this kind of life. It’s cute, really. It makes me want to wrap him up in a bundle of blankets and spoon-feed him ice cream.
No, I don’t have any idea who I am at this point either.
I’ve never really cared about anyone other than my brothers before.
But, honestly, wanting to care for a twink who’s hung me upside down by my ankles and knocked me on the temple with my own dagger before putting me in the trunk of his car isn’t the strangest thing I’ve done.
And technically, I put myself in the trunk. I’m caring like that.
With nothing else to do, I wonder idly where he’s taking me. The why is obvious—it’s either to extort money or because of The Firm.
Either way, my family will be involved. But not until I’m ready for them to be. I’m not sharing Ansel just yet.
He’s mine to play with first.
Although, he’s still calling me by the fake name I gave him. It suddenly occurs to me that perhaps this is not connected to my family after all.
Huh. If he chose me randomly, or if this is all a coincidental mix-up, then that makes it even more fun.
The poor man probably thinks he’s in charge, given he’s the one doing the kidnapping. Unfortunately for him, that’s not really how I like to roll. But I’m happy to let him think he’s in control.
For now.
Where we’re going, though…that’s the question that lingers in my mind.
I hope it’s to his place. I’d love to see where he lives and peel back another layer of the conundrum my butterfly presents.
Either that or a cabin in the woods. That’s more fitting.
Kind of romantic, too. Somewhere where no one will be able to hear any screams.
Screams of pleasure or pain. I don’t give a fuck which. Both are fun for me.
I can make it fun for Ansel too, if he’s game. He might be a little shy, but that just makes it all the more interesting.
I’ve always loved a challenge.
The beat of a song filters into the trunk, and my lips lift in a smile. God, I love Savage Garden. I start to sing along, but barely make it through a line before the radio station switches. An upbeat pop anthem replaces it, making me scowl. “Hey! What the fuck? Switch it back.”
The volume is shut off. Ansel’s voice is a mix of confusion and amusement. “You can’t seriously want that old shit on.”
For the first time since this all started, I’m filled with indignation. “Music from the nineties is not old shit.”
“I wasn’t even born then.”
Curiosity replaces the indignation. “How old are you?”
Ansel sniffs. “I don’t think I’m supposed to answer your questions.”
I smirk into the darkness. None of this is going how it’s supposed to, and I’m so here for it. “Well, you have to be legal if you were in that bar. I know they ID.”
Not that I used my real ID to get in. Being a Buckingham comes with many benefits—anonymity isn’t one of them.
Maybe Ansel didn’t either. I wince in horror. “You are legal, right?”
There are some muttered words I don’t catch before he sighs loudly. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Are you really?”
“No, not really. I’m twenty-one.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I murmur, even though my dick is getting hard at how sassy he is. I’d love to fuck that right out of him. Just for a minute, but still.
“Just kidding. I’m twenty-three and a half.”
I grunt.
“What the hell am I doing? Why am I giving him a fake age?” I hear him murmur to himself. “I’m really twenty-five. I’m not lying this time.”
“Okay, so the point is, you weren’t alive in the nineties, but that’s not excusing bad taste.”
Savage Garden starts to play quietly again. “This accounts for good taste?”
He sounds just like Dalton. I make a note to never introduce them. Not just because they’d gang up on me, but because my brother is a sneaky fucker. He’d try to snatch a cutie like Ansel from right under my nose, just as he tried with Matthias and Wyatt.
Actually, maybe it’d be okay. Dalton doesn’t go for younger guys. He likes them older. And much wiser than this little butterfly. A man he’d date would never kidnap a Buckingham, accidentally or otherwise.
“Savage Garden is perfection,” I argue. “The perfect blend of upbeat rhymes and dramatic angst. What more could you want?”
“They literally just went ‘ooh, ahh’ for a whole thirty seconds.”
I nod solemnly, forgetting Ansel can’t see me. “Well, the nineties are known for their harmonies. It’s practically a trademark.”
Ansel doesn’t say anything, but I can practically feel his disagreement from here. That’s fine. I can educate him on everything he’s missing out on while we’re on this little adventure. Nothing like having a captive audience.
I mean, sure. Technically, I’m the captive one, but it still counts. It’s not like Ansel can go anywhere. That’s not responsible kidnapper behavior.
I make a note to remind him of it if he makes any noise about doing that.
Hopefully, it’s just going to be us on this journey. I’d hate to have this turn violent if anyone else enters the picture.
The rumble of the engine cuts off. “We’re here.”
Oh goodie. Guess I’m about to find out.