I bucked and thrashed to break free of my kidnapper’s iron grip, but it was useless. Whoever he was, his strength exceeded my own and all I could do was scream bloody murder as he dragged me deep into the forest.
No one would know where I was. I dropped my backpack on the lawn. My camera was still dangling from the cord around my neck, weighing me down and biting into my nape. My terrified screams turned to desperate sobs. At one point, a hand pressed down so hard over my mouth that I thought I might pass out. I could scarcely see a thing as he pulled me through the thicket. All I could hear was ragged breathing and the sound of heavy footsteps beating on the ground — until the bickering started.
“What part of ‘let me handle it’ did not sink into your thick skull?” an angry voice roared.
“Can we not discuss this now? I'm kind of busy here, in case you haven’t noticed,” the guy holding me answered him.
“Go easy on her, she still needs to breathe,” a raspy voice snapped.
There are three of them.
“Careful. You’re gonna hurt her,” a softer voice spoke.
Okay, so that makes four.
He seemed concerned about my welfare. That surprised me. No, wait! What if they need me alive for whatever horrors they have in store for me? On second thought, let him suffocate me now.
I thrashed around on his shoulder, making as much noise as I could.
“She’s a screamer. They’ll hear her for miles around. You don’t want the bear on our tails,” another man spoke, his voice laced with humor.
Bear? There are bears here too.
My cry for help came out like a garbled noise. I struggled against my captor, but he was built like a mountain of muscle.
“Here, use this to gag her with.” I heard fabric tearing, then they shoved cloth between my lips.
The material bit into the corners of my mouth as they tied a knot at the back of my head.“Mmph,” I tried to shout out for help again, but the gag muffled my cries.
“Give her to me. I’ll carry her for a while. I don’t trust that you won’t injure her any more than you already have,” the guy with the raspy voice muttered sarcastically.
“I won’t hurt her,” my kidnapper protested, offended by the remark.
“I said give her to me, it’s my turn!” He swapped me into the other guy’s arms and my stomach collided with another rock-hard shoulder.
We gathered speed, and I bounced around like a rag doll. He hopped, skipped, and jumped along the forest floor. Every rough jolt felt like a punch in the stomach. I made another attempt to scream and wriggle free, only to feel a gigantic hand slap down across my backside, stinging my skin.
“Stop it. You’ll fall and hurt yourself,” the man with the stern tone berated me. “Hold her steady or give her to me.”
“She's high-spirited. Just what we need to keep us in check,” a guy with a softer voice spoke. He seemed more benign than the others.
“Speak for yourself. She will obey us, or I will punish her,” the dominant guy threatened.
“Can you smell that? She enjoyed having her ass slapped. I may have to put her over my knee later,” my kidnapper mentioned. He ran alongside us to my right, but all I could make out were his muscular legs and bare feet.
“Not before I do, you won’t,” the guy with the raspy tone replied.
My kidnapper chortled. “Do you hear that, Isobelle? Your ass is ours.”
My mind was filled with dread at the threat of being punished. Did they mean tortured? I knew I was in serious trouble. They were dragging me farther into the forest with no way of calling for help.
The men squabble about sharing me, transferring me from one pair of arms to the other. All sense of time evaporated from my mind, and I wondered how long it would take for someone to notice I was missing. They were men, not boys, and they were taking me somewhere in the forest. I didn’t catch any of their names, but they seemed to know mine. The way they were talking, it was as if they had been expecting me for a while.
“I hope she likes how we’ve decorated the cabin,” the guy with the softer tone commented.
What? Cabin? Oh no. My mind flooded with dread.“We know she likes green, so she’ll love it. I don’t know about you, guys, but I can’t get enough of her scent — honey and vanilla. It’s driving me insane … I can feel the sparks running down to my —” my kidnapper remarked.
“For once, can you not think about that and focus on plan B considering you screwed up plan A,” the assertive guy snapped. “Thanks to your idiocy, we now have to improvise.”
My heart sank as I realized what was happening to me. I was being kidnapped by the four men in the woods. My blood ran cold as I recalled the story Teresa told me, earlier today. The part where the men in the woods were supposed to hunt naked. I slid my palm against my captive’s lower back, and I felt nothing but naked skin. A little lower and I made a full-on smack against his bare backside.
“Careful or I’ll return the favor,” he warned me.
“Hmmm.” The muffled words left my mouth. What I tried to say was, “Let me go, you fucking perverts.” This was not the sexy fantasy I had in mind. Who in their right mind would get off on being kidnapped by a bunch of naked guys?
What if Teresa is right? They might bring me back unscathed.
Yeah, and pigs might fly.
With any luck, they would realize their mistake and would take me back to the guest house. I tried to mumble a coherent plea, but the taut rag hampered my speech. If they would just stop bickering like a flock of seagulls fighting over scraps and allow me to speak, I could beg them for mercy. I wasn’t a complete twat. I could be reasonable. If they would just turn around and bring me back, I wouldn’t press charges. We could brush this off as a prank and laugh about this over drinks. My treat.
“Here we are, Isobelle, home sweet home,” the one holding me announced as he carried me over the threshold of a wooden hut.
It was too dark to see inside it. I couldn’t tell what the room looked like, especially from my upside-down angle.
The one time I traveled alone, I was kidnapped on my second night.
I waited with trepidation in the pitch-black darkness as they all bickered among themselves. It was some ridiculous rant over whose responsibility it was to have kept the fire burning. I felt myself being pulled into a tight embrace before finding myself sitting on someone’s bare lap.
Didn’t they own any rope so that they could tie me to a chair like regular kidnappers? Was it necessary for me to have to sit on a stranger’s lap and feel his cock swelling beneath me?The first flicker of firelight brought the cabin into view, and I could finally see the faces of my captors. I had to blink twice for my eyes to adjust, but as soon as I could see clearly, my eyes darted all over the place. It was a real log cabin, not some dingy hut in the woods. The wooden furniture matched, and the sage green sofa complimented the curtains. As I glanced around, I didn’t spot anything I didn’t like. But that didn’t ease my anxiety. These guys still kidnapped me, no matter how impressive my prison was.I glanced up into the faces of three hot men with more muscles than I could count, their skin naturally tanned from working outdoors in the sun or living like naturists — who knows? I’m guessing they spend their days chopping wood, logging, and hiking up mountains because no one could look that fit and not work out. I spared a hesitant glance over my shoulder, seeing the fourth bloke cringing sheepishly. He was just as handsome as the others. Four glorious sights to behold, and all stark-bollock-naked. Now that I could move my arms, I tugged the gag from my mouth and let it drop around my neck. My lips mashed together to wet my withered tongue.
I scrunch my eyes shut. “Please, for the love of God, can you put on some pants?” I begged, hating how my eyes were being drawn to their swinging appendages.I don’t want to go straight to Hell when they murder me.
“As the lady wishes,” I heard one of them say. “Promise that you won’t try to run away if I let go of you?” the guy sitting beneath me asked.
My nostrils flared with indignation. “I promise,” I lied.
The second he released me, I bolted for the door. My fingertips grazed the handle before the guy who first kidnapped me, pounced on me.
“You just told a straight-up lie. You’re just asking for trouble,” he rasped into my ear in a warning tone.
I tried to butt-bounce him in the dick to make him release me, but that didn’t work. If anything, he seemed to like it rough.
“Just let me go!” I cried at this point. “I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to go home.” And by ‘home’ I meant back to London.
“Shh! It’s okay. Don’t cry. Nobody’s going to hurt you, I promise,” he reassured me, for all the good it did.
I bet they say that to all their victims.
He turned me around and pulled me to the couch, the soles of my sneakers squeaking against the varnished floor. The men darted back from the adjoining room wearing shorts and nothing else. One guy flung a pair through the air and my captor caught it with one hand, then whirled me into the arms of a blond guy. He wasn’t as rough, but he showed no signs of letting me go, pulling me back on the couch and onto his lap. The guy who dragged me from the door put on his shorts and then went to join the others. They huddled together and muttered between them, “Why don’t you say something? You’re the eldest.” Two of them shoved the nominee forward — a strapping guy with dark hair, a cropped beard, and silvery grey eyes. He seemed like such a bad-tempered bastard, turning to snap at them like a rabid dog. But then he dragged his gaze to me and held it there as if he was contemplating what to say. “I’m Alex Bennett,” he introduced himself; his tone remained firm. “On behalf of me and my brothe
They wanted to wait until Alex came back from the kitchen, which was fair enough. This concerned him too. He carried a red mug by the handle, treading carefully so as not to spill a drop onto the floor.So, he’s houseproud — noted. I could tell a lot from someone by their actions. The way they respected their living space and the people around them.“Here, I hope I’ve made it right,” Alex handed me a mug of steaming hot tea then put a coaster onto the coffee table in front of me.I took in every detail, making a mental note of their behavior patterns. It would help me to figure out what made them tick. After inspecting the tea, I risked a sip. It wasn’t too milky, and it wasn’t too strong . . . it won my seal of approval. We were off to an impressive start.Alex watched me, cringing to see whether the drink was to my liking. He wanted to impress me, but why would he care? Kidnappers were supposed to be wretched, horrid, despicable human beings with agendas. They don’t offer their hos
“Isobelle, stop!” Alex’s commanding voice sent a jolt through my heart.My startled scream rang through my ears before a rough hand covered my mouth.“You’re bleeding,” Lucas’s raspy voice accompanied a hot gust against my ear.He was behind me. Alex was in front of me. My fingers attempted to peel away Lucas’s grip as I wrestled against him. Then two wet snouts nudged against my elbows, causing me to whimper helplessly.“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Alex berated. “The forest isn’t safe during the day, let alone at night.”“Hey!” Lucas barked back, “Lay off her. Can’t you see that she’s scared?”Lucas curled his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. The heat from his skin seeped through the thin cotton of my nightdress, permeating through to my heart. Warmth. Protection. Safety. Those feelings surfaced, instilling somewhere within my inner core, enabling me to relax. There was no way they would let me get ripped apart by wolves. Alex stepped forward and brought his h
Isobelle Grayson finished cleaning my wounds and wrapped bandages around the nasty ones. The cabin was quiet. Nobody else came into the bedroom while he was tending to me. They got the hint I needed some space. Grayson grinned, holding a fistful of colorful Band-Aids for me to choose from.I cocked my head to one side. “Seriously?! I’m not five,” I muttered sarcastically.He was taking the whole ‘Daddy’ thing to the extreme. If I misbehaved, would he put me on the naughty step or force me to stand in a corner and face the wall, or worse . . . would he put me over his knee and spank me? God, why did I secretly want that?His brows jumped a few millimeters. “Humor me.”I sucked in a languid breath through my nose then tapped a pink one with sparkly princess crowns on it.“Give me that one,” I replied with an exhausted sigh.Grayson coughed to clear the back of his throat as if he was prompting a further response from me. I waited for a couple of seconds before adding an exasperated, “P
Alex“Jesus, how much does one woman need?” I stared at Isobelle’s luggage with disbelief.My car was on its ass, fully loaded with all her essentials.Fuck me, where are we going to put it all?Lincoln Anderson lent me a bungee cable to secure the trunk after I fought to keep the door closed.“Do you think it's a good sign that she has pink Playboy bunny symbols all over her luggage?” Grayson mentioned.I envisioned an illuminated light bulb hovering above his head as his mind whirled with possibilities. Is she kinky? Or does she just like pink? Lincoln cast him a puzzled look, probably wondering what the fuck he was talking about. That brand isn’t well known here in Whitehaven, only Grayson had an outside subscription.“There . . . that should hold it,” I announced, flustered, sleep-deprived, and agitated. This business with Isobelle tied my stomach in knots.Grayson let out a low whistle. “Holy cow, that’s a serious amount of stuff. Where is it gonna go? We clearly didn’t think thi
IsobelleI had the most amazing soak in the world’s largest bathtub, then emerged from the room in a cloud of steam. Holding a fluffy white towel around my body, I crept back to the bedroom, tiptoeing past Alex in the kitchen. He was busy scrubbing a pan in the sink, and the heavenly smell of pancakes wafted past my nose.“Good morning,” he muttered over his shoulder. “I hope you slept well?”“I . . . uh, yes, thank you,” I replied, surprised by his pleasant tone.“We brought all your belongings from the guest house, and I charged your cell phone while you were taking a bath,” he mentioned, up to his forearms in soap suds.What?! He’d gone to the guest house, and Chloe and Lincoln had just let him take my things without asking questions. I had a pile of dirty laundry on the floor by my bed. Did he get that too? My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but I could sense the repentant tone of his voice and figured he was only trying to be helpful. There were still so many questions that ne
Isobelle“You are?” Grayson spluttered with disbelief.Alex collapsed with relief. Lucas slurped his coffee as if he hadn’t been worried at all. His cockiness was cute, and I could see straight through it.Mason looked as if all his Christmases had come at once. “You won’t regret it,” he gushed, sounding ecstatic.“Can I just ask you something? If everyone around here is a shifter, does that include Chloe and Lincoln?” I inquired, dodging the subject of sex.It was bound to crop up next, and I was stalling for time. Sue me. My body was trembling with nerves, terrified of what it would feel like to be shared between them.“Lincoln is a bear shifter from Forest Hills,” Alex informed me. “Chloe is human, like you.”“And she didn’t mind Lincoln being a . . . you know? A,” I cringed as I use the word, “bear shifter?”Alex flashed a tight-lipped smile to mask his amusement. “Apparently not.”I bobbed my head in an awkward nod. “That’ll explain the ‘cub’ remark.”“Does that scare you?” Lucas
LucasIsobelle walked out onto the front porch, looking flustered to hell. My God, she looked good when she’d just been roughly kissed. Her lips were still swollen, her blue eyes searched for me as her golden hair danced around her shoulders in the summer breeze. I took my time to admire how beautiful she was, standing there shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. I wanted to remember the imagery, cataloging every detail so I could drag out my sketchbook and let my pencil work its magic. She was my muse, a vision of perfection, and I needed to immortalize her onto a canvas, turning her into one of those sempiternal paintings that never alters, never fades.That’s how I felt about love. I wasn’t a man of many words, but what I lacked in etiquette, I made up for with skills. Whether it be fixing up cars, building a motorcycle from scratch, or painting something that inspired me, I donated my time and effort, leaving a piece of me behind. That was how I breathed life into my