Branded Read online

  So he hung her up on the shower rail and dowsed her with cold water to waken her senses and figure out if he’d just committed murder or not. “Just the anemia, no allergies.”

  “I’ll remember that for the next time I stick you.”

  That better have been a joke, and from the lack of menace in his voice, she guessed it was. “No more sticking,” she said, punching his knee then returning to her food.

  She didn’t know he was still examining her until she glanced back and caught him peering at her. “You’re not afraid of me anymore, are you?”

  Her shouting-out stunt in the bathroom probably proved to him that his ability to intimidate her had dwindled. “You showed me your limit tonight,” she said, slurping from her spoon. “Not only do I know for a fact that you won’t rape me, but you’ll rescue me from any other man who tries it.”

  “That’s what you fear?”

  Watching the light reflected in the red soup, Nya was reminded of her past and suddenly, she wasn’t so hungry. “More than anything.”

  “But I hurt you, what if I do it again?”

  “The burn was terrifying,” she said, turning her hand until she felt the bite of pain that still shimmered over the injury when she moved her wrist in a certain way. “But I’ve been hurt by men before. I’ve had boyfriends kick the shit out of me.”

  “Men who hit you?”

  She shrugged. It was never nice to be hit, but she was no stranger to it. Her father had beat her and when he was gone, her brother took over. Not all men were the same; she’d known good, decent men too. Like Tag, he’d never laid a hand on her.

  It would be useful to know which category Archer fell into. “You’ve never hit a woman? Never in your life?” she asked. Being a strong, physical man who had no trouble watching another in pain, she found it tough to believe that Archer had always restrained himself.

  “I don’t like doing it,” he said.

  “You told me about your S and M girlfriend,” she said, running her finger around her empty bowl to catch the smudges of leftover soup, so she could lick up every drop. “Your bathroom is a great cell though, if you’re going for discomfort. The floor is hard, the space cramped, with the light on and that damn dripping faucet—”

  “I know,” he said with a discreet smile. “I’ve done this before.”

  “Kidnapped and tortured innocent women?”

  He didn’t hesitate or apologize. “You’re Tag’s girl, you’re not innocent, and my captives are usually guys.”

  Which explained why he had chains, padlocks, and reinforced pipes lying around. But she was still fighting against his assumption that she belonged to Tag in a romantic way. That belief could cost her something further down the line, so she had to rid him of the idea as thoroughly as she could.

  Pulling his knee out of her way, she crawled around it to kneel between his feet. Without making eye contact, she rose as she pulled his face downward and pushed her mouth onto his.

  The kiss was supposed to prove a point.

  She hadn’t expected it to be so electric.

  Tension coiled around her body and gravity pulled on her pelvis. Getting higher, she welcomed his hot tongue into her mouth to be strong and dominant over hers.

  Archer tipped her face to take control of the kiss. Fizzing awareness zapped in her loins, it tickled as she swelled in readiness. Moisture thickened between her folds, warming her in preparation for the thing that she shouldn’t want from him.

  Her throat narrowed, making her want to cry out. Invigoration tensed and teased the flesh of her pussy that she had never considered offering him until now. When he slid his hips closer to her body, which was still positioned between his thighs, he grasped her waist to steady her, encouraging her to press herself into him.

  One of his hands slid down, around to her spine which he pressured as he closed his knees to clamp her into place.

  “Archer,” she breathed, bowing her shoulders to separate from him by an inch.

  “What the fuck did you kiss me for?” he asked.

  The reason seemed ridiculous now while they were both still dazed by the impact of what they’d shared. “If I was Tag’s girl, I would never have done that.”

  “You don’t cheat?”

  “I don’t cheat,” she said. “And the guy I end up with would demand loyalty from me, he’d expect it, and guarantee it in return. He’d brand me deep to protect me against any other guy moving in on his turf. He’d protect our relationship with his life and so would I.”

  Fidelity was something she was passionate about. His gaze drifted toward her cuff. “Brand you,” he murmured and she realized that was exactly what he’d done to her. “You’re already wearing my mark and that baby isn’t going anywhere.”

  Her point was made. This was when she was supposed to retreat. Archer’s arm was still curved around her and his legs flanked her body. Resting her forearms on his thighs, she exhaled, why was she always attracted to men who were bad for her?

  “Loyalty is a rare quality.”

  She knew what he meant. Fidelity was as rare as integrity. “I told you, I’m not a whore.”

  “I’m beginning to believe you,” he said and leaned in for another kiss.

  She was saved from spurning or accepting the kiss by a knock on the front door. Archer pushed her back to get up by lifting a leg over her head. He went to the door and answered it. She’d have thought he’d check who was there first, but this guy was laid back until he sprang into action, and so far he’d been able to handle every threat that had come at him.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Archer asked, laying a forearm on the doorframe and another on the back of the door.

  “Came to find out what the fuck happened.”

  Nya knew that voice. Just as she reached a point where she could see beyond Archer’s barbarity, a worse example of it had just shown up. That voice belonged to the man who’d pinned her to the wall and threatened her in Sizzle.

  “Get the fuck away from my door, Jonno.” Archer attempted to close it, but from the thud, she’d guess that Jonno stopped it with a foot.

  Nya couldn’t see the faces of the men, Archer had his back to her and was in the open door space, blocking Jonno, but she could tell he wasn’t pleased. Trying her best to be silent, she began to move backwards on her hands and knees.

  Crawling to the end of the couch, she stayed low to hide behind the arm. Peeking up over it, she waited to hear what would be said next. Behind her was the hallway to the bedroom and bathroom, but there was no escape back there, she’d be trapping herself in a dead end if she tiptoed away.

  “Did you find him? Did the bitch give him up?” Jonno asked. “I let you have her. I deserve to know where the fuck that prick is.”

  “She didn’t tell me. I don’t know the answer.”

  “Bullshit! You get answers, you never fuck up getting information. Why’d you think I let you take her?”

  “You let me take her because you didn’t have a choice,” Archer said. “And she was mine the minute I walked out with her. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

  “You came to Sizzle ‘cause of me, I gave you the tip that she was the way in. We had a deal.”

  “A deal?” Archer snarled. “Here’s a fucking deal for you, Jonno, get the fuck away from my door before I slice you open, balls to throat. You don’t come to my place shouting the fucking odds. I let you live once, I don’t gotta do that again.”

  The tension remained, but Jonno’s attitude swung a one eighty. “Hey, now, Archer, come on, don’t be like that. I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean no disrespect. I’m just not used to you taking so long to do your job, you know? I’ve got the guys breathing down my neck; we’ve been chasing Tag a long time.”

  Archer relaxed. “Now you want to make friends with me? Did you forget who you were dealing with for a second?”

  “I just want to see her,” Jonno said. “You do still have her, don’t you?”

  “Might.”
/>   Nya began to inch backwards again. If Jonno saw her in Archer’s living room eating soup, he might get the idea that they were allies, which they sort of were. Jonno didn’t have the same limits that Archer did. Jamie had died while Jonno was in charge.

  Avoiding unwelcome hands on her body was an engrained ambition of Nya’s. In this situation, one simple act could protect her, should protect her, even if it wasn’t something she wanted to do. Continuing to reverse, she crawled into the bathroom, turned on the light and went back to her tether.

  Because she didn’t know how well Jonno knew the methods Archer used to hold the prisoners he’d confessed to having here on a regular basis, she copied what had been done before and wrapped the chain around her ankle. Holding the padlock in place, she didn’t lock it, and she wouldn’t until she absolutely had to.

  Craning, she heard them move into the apartment. The front door closed and their voices carried in tones rather than specifics. She didn’t know if they would come into the bathroom or not, but they were definitely in the apartment.

  Curling on the floor, she held her fingers on the padlock, hesitant to snap it into place until the last second, which came a breath later when the bathroom door handle rattled. Archer had never rattled it before; usually he just came stomping in. So Nya guessed that he was giving her a warning. She snapped the padlock into place and closed her eyes to give the illusion that she’d been sleeping here for a while.

  Keeping her eyes shut, she saw no reason to talk to either of the guys unless it was necessary. If that need arose, she’d take her prompts from Archer – he wasn’t going to trust her until she trusted him.

  “There,” Archer said. “Now get the fuck out.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jonno said. “We’re here, she’s giving you shit. Let’s have fun with her. Teach her a lesson.”

  “You want to watch me cut her?” Archer asked.

  Nya didn’t like his deadpan tone, so blunt and cold like he might mean it. The taste of his kiss still hung on her lips. Corners of her body were still enlivened by the awakened curiosity she had for this man. Yet, he stood there implying he was ready to hurt her again.

  “You and those fucking blades. Any other guy gets a babe like this locked up in his place and the bitch would be chained to the bed, not the toilet. We’d get off on sticking our dicks in her. You’d rather stick her with your blade!” Jonno said with a laugh in his voice.

  “Who said I haven’t stuck my dick in her?” Archer asked, still displaying no emotion. “Why would I want you to watch me fuck her? I never understood that about you and your crew. You love waving your tackle in each other’s faces.”

  That almost made her laugh, though Archer’s intonation wasn’t humorous. “If we work in tandem, she’ll give Taggert up,” Jonno said, ignoring the jibe.

  “You want me to cut her while you fuck her. Don’t think so, Jonno.”

  “What’s the problem?” Jonno asked.

  “You come here to get laid?” Archer asked, losing some of his patience. “Go look for your kinky shit elsewhere.”

  One guy shoved the other and something soft hit her face before the door closed. She waited a few seconds before prying her eyelids apart. The men were gone and for the first time the light was off.

  Taking the soft, fresh fabric from her face, she realized it was the towel that usually hung in a loop by the door. Folding it up, she stuffed it under her head to use as a pillow. While listening to movement and voices in the living room, she fell asleep.

  six

  Mmm, coffee. The smell of it warmed her nose before Nya even opened her eyes. When she did on a yawn, she noticed a mug on the floor right in front of her face. The shower was running and from the noise of the water she guessed Archer was using it.

  As she sat to pick up the cup, she realized that she was closer to the center of the room and there was only one way that could be possible. Whipping around, she grinned when she saw that the chain was no longer around her ankle, in fact, it was gone from the room altogether.

  Getting to her feet, she drank the delicious java that she’d missed so much, with delight. Coffee was her life blood. Gulping it down, she had finished most of it by the time she put it on the ledge over the sink that served as a vanity below the vast inset mirror. Then, turning on the faucet, she bent to wash her face.

  “Fuck, Squirm!” Archer called from the shower and she quickly turned off the water.

  “Shit, sorry,” she called back, unsure if she should cringe or laugh, though the latter came more naturally.

  Opening a panel of the mirror, she found floss and used his toothbrush to clean her teeth. There was no comb or brush, though that didn’t surprise her, Archer’s hair was short enough that finger-combing it would probably do.

  She sought out a towel in the closet just as Archer’s disappeared from the shower curtain rail. He didn’t turn the water off, so she hopped onto the toilet lid to hang her towel over the rail that she wouldn’t have been able to reach without the boost in height.

  The curtain went back and he stepped out with a towel around his hips. While he examined her position on top of the toilet, he ran his hands through his hair. “Do what you’ve got to, and then we’ve got to get this straightened out.”

  She didn’t ask what, because she already knew what he meant. He went past the sink, out of the room and she was left to bathe alone, unsupervised, and untethered.

  It seemed pointless to get washed and then put on last night’s dirty dress. So Nya kept her towel on and left the bathroom to find out if Archer had anything else for her to wear.

  The bedroom door was open opposite the bathroom when she opened the door. Archer was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his boots as she stepped out of the steam-filled room.

  “What do you need?” he asked without raising his head.

  Daylight shone through the blinds on the window beyond his bed. She hadn’t realized how she’d missed natural light until she was faced with it. “Something to wear.”

  Sitting up, he took in her appearance. “I can give you a tee shirt. Not got many women’s clothes lying around.”

  She’d guess not, Archer didn’t strike her as the cross-dressing type. “Wearing a tee shirt is better than wearing nothing,” she said and when one of his brows slunk up, she laughed. “If I’m naked when we show up at Tag’s he’ll get the wrong idea.”

  “That you want to screw around with him or that you’re screwing around with me?” he asked.

  His black tee shirt strained across his shoulders when he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his wideset knees and link his hands.

  Holding on to her towel, Nya crossed the hall to enter his bedroom. “If I was screwing around with you, would you let me walk naked into a room full of men?” she asked, trying to get more of a measure of this enigmatic man.

  Thrilling lust inflamed her again. The confusion of yearning for this awful, merciful conundrum of a man, made her craving for him more intense. She’d never had such an instant a reaction between her thighs as she was having right now, the closer that she got to him.

  There was something about his large, formidable hands. They’d been used to inflict such pain, and proved their deft capability. Those hands had hurt her, and yet she hungered to have them apologize by committing themselves to her pleasure.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” he said, sitting straight to curl his fingers around her narrow waist when she moved to stand between his feet. “But I don’t screw around.”

  “You’re not a whore?” she asked. Smiling, she took her hands to his shoulders and squeezed. He was so solid. Simmering sensation stirred in her breasts.

  “No,” he said. “Whores don’t interest me; I like my girls to stick around.”

  A daring, irrational part of her wanted to drop her towel and climb into his lap. But if he wanted relationships, not one-night stands, then she had to figure out if she wanted to stick around with him or not, which meant restraining herself.


  As of this minute, there was no great love here, just desire. He was attractive and wrong for her, a dangerous bad boy who would break her heart if she didn’t keep her wits about her. His pick-up lines probably enticed plenty of women. Nya liked to think she was street smart and she had heard bullshit from men trying to get into her pants for years. If this guy was for real, she might entertain messing around with him. But if it was an act, she’d be happy to drop him on the curb, mysterious stud or not.

  “What time did Jonno leave?” she asked, brushing a hand over his hair, tousling her fingers through it.

  “Late,” he said. “The bastard drank all my beer.”

  She pouted and got even closer, forcing him to tip his head back. “I had to take my cuff off,” she said, showing him her wrist. After scrutinizing it for a minute, he brought it down to his lips, stunning her with his affection. This seemed like the right minute to get the awkward formality of expressing her gratitude out of the way. “Thank you, for not letting Jonno…” It seemed she thanked him for protecting her virtue on a daily basis these days.

  “I’ve never branded a woman before,” he said, kissing her wrist again then setting her back so he could slip out to retrieve his first aid kit from his in-built closet.

  The deep second-degree burn would scar, it still had to fully heal, but she could make out the edges now. The outer triangle was surprisingly even. Inside the shape, the non-injured parts were like an insignia.

  The tail of the C led into the beginning of the uppercase A. The crossbar of the A was diagonal, coming from the lower right tip of the A crossing over the other side of the A and coming to a stop in a curved flourish in the middle of the C.

  “Only men?” she asked, when he sat and pulled her down beside him.

  “Figured you’d prefer that to other types of torture I use.”

  Which was sort of how he’d explained it in the parking lot. Being alone in the bedroom, she had a chance to delve deeper into what Archer was about. “You use torture?”