Surrender's Dance Page 2

  No! What was she thinking! She had no interest in being someone’s pet.

  Like you’d have any say in the matter if you were a slave, some perverse alter ego pointed out. Slaves have no rights.

  And no responsibilities. No bills. And all the sex she could handle as long as she earned it.

  A sex slave?

  An odd trickle of alarm yanked her back into the here and now. There were several other joggers out this morning. A trio of teenage males far ahead, an older couple she’d just passed. And hadn’t she recently moved over to the side to accommodate a bicyclist? The park was safe in daylight.

  Still ...

  Looking around, she spotted a man coming up behind her. He was shirtless and way too muscular for a distance runner. Not one of those yuppies who suck down endless designer coffees and buy their expensive running clothes at specialty shops, but a real man. Real and raw. Like the Master she’d been daydreaming about. For just a moment she wondered if her imagination had conjured him up. But no.

  Judging by his pace and long, strong, naked legs, he’d overtake her in a few seconds. Because she had to juggle judging his powerful, confident stride with making sure she didn’t fall, she couldn’t be sure, but his gaze seemed to be settled on her. She always carried pepper spray in her shorts’ pocket, but she’d never come close to needing it.

  Tall, strong, deeply tanned with long, windblown, dark hair. Breath-stealing shoulders and lean hips. Firm-as-rock ass. Bare feet silent on the cement path.

  Bare feet?

  Closer he came. Closer. She felt his presence in her bones and muscles, sensed his touch on her nerve endings. His impossibly dark eyes threatened to suck her in.

  I’ve come for you.

  Even as the words settled over her, she felt her world shift.

  Chapter Three

  Dense, heavy vegetation pressed in on Asia. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she half-ran, half-stumbled, down what couldn’t really be called a trail. Panic came at her in waves and rendered rational thought impossible.

  She knew only one thing -- to flee.

  Arms pumping, legs straining, she leaned forward and dodged to the side in a desperate attempt to avoid an overgrown, head-high bush. She managed to keep her footing, but with her next step, her heels sank into damp earth.

  Heels? What had happened to her jogging outfit?

  Don’t think! Don’t think!

  Shaking her feet free of the damn useless shoes, she plowed on. Too soon, she knew she’d made a mistake. The feet of her pantyhose were already shredded. Her soles were being cut by rocks and tree roots. Sobbing, she willed herself to dismiss the pain and disconnected sensation. She had to run, to escape!

  Escape what?

  It didn’t matter. If whoever was pursuing her caught up with her, she was doomed. If she knew nothing else, she knew that.

  Running had always calmed and centered her, but this was different. Instead of a paved path, she was on uneven and treacherous land, and time had buckled in some incomprehensible way. Not only didn’t she have a clue where she was, the contrast between light and shadows made anticipating her next move impossible. Panic again clawed at her throat.

  Before she knew it was going to happen, she fell. She managed to turn so she landed on her shoulder instead of her breasts, then struggled to get to her hands and knees. Her straight-line skirt clung to her legs much as ropes would. She started to pull the fabric up over her thighs so she’d have more freedom of movement, but a sudden weight on her back slammed her belly to the ground. She smelled wet earth and struggled to look over her shoulder. The weight shifted until the pressure was between her shoulder blades.

  Oh God. Someone’s foot was holding her down.

  “Give it up!” a man ordered. He punctuated his command by shifting his weight to the back of her neck.

  Her legs and arms remained free, but what good were they if all they could reach was the ground? Even worse, she couldn’t breathe! The burning in her lungs became more intense and still more. She tried to reach behind her, to get free, but couldn’t grasp anything. As her consciousness faded, she wrenched her body to the side. Gasped for breath. Before her attacker could adjust, she struggled out from under him and onto her hands and knees, lacerating her hose even more. Instead of trying to stand, she forced herself to look at the threat to her freedom and maybe her life.

  Because she was staring up at the sky, she saw little except a massive, dark, nearly naked shadow.

  “Like the feeling of a little freedom?” The shadowy figure taunted her, voice deep, and husky, and knowing. “It’s not going to last.” With that, he leaned down and pressed his large hands against her shoulders.

  Although she tried to scramble away, his greater weight forced her to the ground again. This time, instead of putting pressure on her neck, he straddled her and settled his hips over her buttocks. He yanked off her blazer, popping buttons as he did and exposing her sleeveless silk shell. Then he wrenched her arms down against her sides.

  Before the threat fully penetrated, he ran a rope around her right elbow and pulled it toward him. He grasped her left arm. Propelled by desperate strength, she managed to briefly free it. Grunting, he pinned the arm to the ground with his knee, then slowly and deliberately looped rope around that elbow. He leaned back, pulling on the ropes to force her arms as far behind her as they would go. He secured the bonds so her elbows nearly touched.

  Handcuffs wouldn’t have done a better job of rendering her arms useless, but he obviously wasn’t satisfied because he grabbed the long, thick hair she’d always been so proud of and lifted her head. He ran more rope around and under one shoulder, and then the other. Once he’d tied that off, he released her hair and ran yet another rope from the one over her shoulder blades to her elbow restraints. Even if she’d been able to force her elbows closer together to loosen the tie there, the latest rope effectively prevented her from freeing herself.

  Caught!

  Her eyes burned, but she wouldn’t cry. No. She could get out of this. She would.

  When she’d fought off the surge of panic, the man was no longer sitting on her. He pulled her up by the rope harness, first to her knees and then to her feet. Then he turned her toward him and released her.

  The man she’d seen in the park!

  Except ... instead of shorts, he now wore what appeared to be a loincloth, which ended just shy of his knees. He needed a shave. His dark hair was long and wild-looking; his eyes black and deep set and strangely beautiful. Mesmerizing. His skin tone made her guess he spent much of his life out-of-doors.

  “Didn’t expect this, did you?” her captor asked, but he didn’t seem to care if she answered. “You should have been careful what you wished for.”

  Wish? She couldn’t think beyond this moment. Her awful helplessness.

  Her legs trembled so much that she had to put effort into keeping her knees from buckling. Technically, her hands were free, but it didn’t matter because she couldn’t use them. She who had never felt any kind of restraint in the real world was acutely aware of every strand and knot binding her body. His handiwork forced her to arch her back, which emphasized her breasts. True, she wore a top and bra, but the covering now seemed transparent. How could it be otherwise with the way he was staring at her breasts?

  Her nipples had become erect. Certainly she wasn’t turned on!

  But this man was like no other she’d ever been in contact with. There was nothing civilized or restrained about him, nothing soft. It was as if he’d stepped out of some private and sensual recess of her mind.

  “Fear isn’t far from eroticism. And you’re feeling both.” He flicked a finger over a nub. She jumped back. “Predictable reaction, just as I know what you’re going to do and feel from now on. Turning your back on everything you’ve ever been or believed about yourself won’t be easy. That, in part, is why we took you back in time to your professional life -- to make the contrast clear.” He made a show of reaching out. Although s
he back-pedaled, he easily kept pace and closed his thumb and forefinger over her nipple. Despite the two layers of fabric, he held her in place with his grip. “Lots of lessons ahead of you, Asia Drake.”

  “How -- how do you know my name?”

  “You’ll find out in good time, my time.”

  Apparently finished with his ominous pronouncements, he stepped back, folded his arms over his deeply tanned, naked chest, and regarded her. In some respects, his expression reminded her of the look she’d seen too many times on the faces of the company’s brass as she gave her presentations. She’d always hated those “keep her in her place” glares but had never imagined it reaching this level.

  This was about survival and freedom. Not a job.

  Her arms already ached from unnatural confinement. Did he think the pain would make her beg? Twice she’d groveled before a man. Twice, but never again. The mere idea made her stomach clench.

  “Shorter than I thought you’d be. Small bones. Big boobs.” He grabbed her shell’s hem and yanked it up over her breasts, then reached behind her. No doubt, he intended to unhook her bra.

  “No!” Whirling away, she ran.

  Her heart felt as if it might burst, and her childhood nightmares of monsters closed around her. She ran as if her life depended on it, but not being able to use her arms had her at great disadvantage. What did years of running matter if her restraints held her awkwardly upright?

  Though in her soul she knew she couldn’t outrun her captor, still she plowed through the strange vegetation. For a few brief and wonderful moments, she found herself in a relatively open area. The ground-hugging weeds under her feet felt soft, and she could almost believe she smelled fresh-mowed grass.

  Too late, she found her flight had propelled her into a canopy of vines and low-hanging branches. They closed around her, caressing and abusing at the same time. She twisted one way and then the other, but although she managed to make some small progress, it was as if she was moving in slow motion. Thinking to protect her face, she tried to lead with her shoulders. Through it all, and despite her contortions, her blouse remained bunched under her armpits.

  A weight, maybe a presence broke through her panic. She denied it. Fought her living prison. But when the thick growth closed around her, she stole a glance back over her shoulder.

  Him!

  She screamed, the sound tearing at her throat, the noise like a wild animal’s. She hated him. She hated him. Desperate, she attacked the vegetation with her nearly useless body. Bit by reluctant bit the brush gave way. By the time she was in the open again, she was coated in sweat.

  “Run, run,” her mind chanted. “You have to!” As for how she’d free herself from the bonds --

  “A fighter. Good.”

  Disbelief clamped off her breath. At nearly the same instant, hands closed around her waist. She was lifted off her feet and shoved forward, landing with such force that she might have been knocked unconscious if he hadn’t tossed her at a bush. The growth gave way, and she sank into the thick growth. Leaves and branches settled over and around her. Legs higher than her head, she couldn’t regain her balance.

  She hung helpless in her living prison.

  Chapter Four

  Blood rushed to Asia’s head. Because her face was surrounded by greenery, she was as good as blindfolded. She expected her captor to pull her out, but he obviously wasn’t in any hurry. Instead, he pushed her skirt over her hips and bunched it around her waist. Then he pulled off what little remained of her pantyhose and patted her ass. To her disbelief, she felt herself respond to the gentle, intimate contact. I’ll be taking you places you’ve never been, the touch seemed to say. The journey will change you, and I’ll be there the whole way.

  “Nice ass. Firm. I’m going to enjoy training it.”

  “Training?”

  “What do you think this is about?”

  I don’t know! I don’t know anything!

  He continued running his fingers over her buttocks. Although he didn’t slip them under her nearly nonexistent panties, he easily could if he wanted to. “I’m calling the shots. You belong to me, every inch of you.” He ran his hands down her legs, as if gentling a skittish horse. Or checking it for soundness.

  She tried to kick him but only succeeded in burying herself further in the bush. His fingers slid over her flesh from knee to calf and back up again, the touch gentle but take-charge. Her muscles jumped under the light pressure. .

  “No! Damn you! I’ll have you arrested!”

  “The rules are different here, Asia. They exist for those like me, not you and your kind. Eventually you’ll understand. Embrace.”

  Nothing made sense. How had she gotten here, wherever here was? What was going to happen to her?

  His fingers stilled. A heartbeat later he removed them. Despite her nearly upside down position, she struggled to get a glimpse of him. Did he mean to hurt her? She froze when she felt ropes circle her ankles. This isn’t happening!

  The strands around her left ankle tightened. “No!” She kicked wildly again, dislodging the loose rope around her right ankle. But the other remained in place. She continued to thrash, frenzied, until he yanked on the bond and held her left leg suspended behind her. In spite of the undeniable message in his firm grip, she lashed out again and again. At length her muscles threatened to cramp, and she couldn’t catch her breath.

  She prayed he’d release the grip on her secured leg and lessen the strain in it. Instead, he easily held her in place while he once again looped rope around the ankle she’d managed to free. Patient and persistent, he finished the too simple task of tying her ankles together, as if all of her struggles meant nothing. The bonds were so snug that her thighs pressed together and trapped her wet and warm core.

  Wet? No, she couldn’t possibly be turned on.

  Oh god, my fantasy come true.

  “Now you’re not going to hurt yourself or wear me out.” He punctuated his remark with yet another possessive pat of her buttocks.

  Almost gently, he pulled her out of the brush and set her on her feet. She swayed and would have fallen, if he hadn’t steadied her by grabbing an arm. Because she had no choice, she leaned against him. The sun and the hunt had heated his skin. She smelled his sweat. He was a rock, a mountain, pure strength and power. After a moment, he shifted his hold to her waist, lifted her off her feet and over his shoulder and carried her to a tree. Shoulders wide enough to easily support me. He righted her, propped her against the tree, and stepped back.

  “An A package. That’s one of the benefits of having been here for awhile. I get first pick of the new recruits.”

  “Here?” Her voice squeaked. She couldn’t bring herself to ask what he meant by a recruit.

  “Surrender Island.”

  “An -- an island?”

  He again folded his arms across his big, naked chest and stared down at her. She felt small. “Feel it. Experience it. Understand. You won’t find it on any maps because it doesn’t exist in the dimension you’re accustomed to. Everything will become clear. Eventually.”

  “Why?”

  “Because deep down it’s what you want. Your bedroom activities, toys, imagination, and secret needs helped spawn your transportation here. Right now you won’t agree, but you eventually will.” He gave a languid shrug that made her all-too-aware of his athletic build. His chest, biceps, triceps, and thigh muscles reminded her of a body builder’s. Although she’d drooled over such specimens at the gym, she’d always been more than a little intimidated by the jocks’ power and potential. It was one thing to dream about having one in her bed, quite another to actually do it.

  His midnight eyes trailed down her body, raking her flesh along the way. Despite their disconcerting intensity, she found she didn’t want him to hurry his study of her. “Your time with me will be memorable. You’ll never forget our relationship.”

  “How -- how long ...”

  “How long will we be working together?” He reached out and
lightly stroked her throat. If he wanted, he could encircle her neck and rob her of air, but like some dumb animal being hauled to the slaughter house, she just stood there. Waited. Besides, despite everything that had happened so far, she didn’t believe he intended to kill or even harm her. When he closed his fingers around her throat, it felt as if he was taking her pulse. “Suspense is a large and vital part of the experience. For the record, I’ve made arrangements to have your belongings placed in storage and the condo put on the market. As for the Buick, it’ll eventually be repossessed.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.”

  * * * * *

  Asia’s breasts and chin pressed against her captor’s back. Her bound legs hung over his chest, and her waist was draped over his shoulder. Although she occasionally lifted her head so she could glimpse her jungle-like surroundings, mostly she simply let him carry her. She was dimly aware of an unexpected roughness to his back, ridges where the flesh should be smooth, but lacked the will to try to determine why that was. Everything in her screamed that she should fight her helplessness, but even if she managed to free herself from his grip, what was the point?

  Most of the time he held her in place with a muscled arm around her middle, his free arm swinging in time with his long, smooth stride, but occasionally he slipped his fingers between her legs much as the auctioneer in her last sex fantasy had done. When had that been? Had she actually clamped her nipples and masturbated or had it been a dream, something he’d programmed?