Their Virgin Hostage (Masters of Ménage #5)(14)

"We're clear to the elevator." His brother was cool as a cucumber. Not a single line on his face revealed a hint of anxiety. He wasn't thinking up ten different ways he could be shanked in prison. No. Law Anders was steady.

It was the way he'd been all their lives. Nothing fazed his big brother … but for a few minutes, Law had warmed up while staring down at the woman who would likely cost them twenty-five to life. Just for a moment, there had been something like hope in Law's normally barren expression.

If they weren't careful, Kinley Kohl might cost them more than their freedom.

Riley pushed the laundry cart forward, keeping his expression carefully blank. Nothing to see here, folks. Just a couple of average Joes doing their job, kidnapping a blonde with nice tits. Happens every day.

Actually, Kinley's tits weren't just nice. From what he could see, they were gorgeous. Round and full …  At first, he'd suspected they were cosmetically augmented, but then he'd held her close and she'd been so fucking soft against him. His cock had gotten hard as a rock. Then she'd bitten the holy shit out of him.

And he'd gotten even harder.

Riley wondered what she would look like when he tied her up, when he had so much of his rope around her that she couldn't move. He could imagine the pattern on her fair skin, a tortoiseshell that would mold her curves and wrap around those breasts, making them thrust out proudly. He would dress her in silk rope and nothing else. Well, next to nothing else. Those ridiculous heels she was wearing would look awfully good wrapped around his neck while he shoved his cock into what was likely a very tight pussy.



       
         
       
        

"Is there a problem, brother?"

Riley nearly groaned. He was in the middle of a criminal endeavor, and he was hard as hell, thinking about all the ways he could violate his pretty little hostage.

He wasn't just going to prison. He was going to hell in a hand basket. Well, a laundry cart, at least.

"I'm coming."

But he wouldn't be, not in the way he wanted to. Nope, there was going to be no coming around Kinley Kohl at all. He pushed the cart again and swore to all of the mystical beings of the universe that he wasn't going to molest their prisoner. No way. He was keeping his hands to himself. The only way he'd be coming in the near future was by the power of his own fist or with a properly paid for hooker. And he wasn't above either method.

The elevator door was open at the end of the hall, not the pretty one the guests used, but the hefty, industrial-sized one meant to keep the workers out of sight of the hotel's posh clientele.

On his left, he caught sight of one of the CCTV cameras that dotted the hallways. He kept his head down. All anyone watching the feeds would see was a tall man with dark hair pushing a laundry cart along the hallway. There would be nothing to distinguish him.

Just a few more steps and then they would be safely in the elevator.

"Hey!"

To his horror, the canvas started to move and a perfectly manicured hand appeared.

Law rushed across the hall, his feet making not a single sound against the carpet.

"Hafta getta way." Kinley was trying to haul herself out of the laundry cart. One fist came up. "Won't let you. Won't."

Riley peered down at her. How did she make that look so fucking adorable? She was a mess of white tulle, and all he could think about was wrapping himself around her.

"Baby, it's all right." Law reached for her hand, his voice softer than Riley could ever remember hearing it. Law was rough and tumble, but he got so tender around this one bit of blonde fluff. "What the hell. I thought I emptied the fucking syringe in her arm. We need the chloroform, Riley."

Yes, it was their last resort. It wouldn't keep Kinley out for very long, but they had to keep her out long enough to escape this damn hotel.

"Don't want to get married. Want the beach. Happy there." They weren't taking her to the beach, but at least Law seemed to be calming her down. Then she turned those kick-him-in-the-gonads brown eyes his way. "So pretty. Wanna get married?"

Just then, he almost did because she was so sweet with her ridiculously sensual bow of a mouth and honey blonde hair. In that moment, he could picture her at the center of their world. It was perverse. He fucking knew it, but he couldn't shake the image of the three of them loving her-their queen, their beating heart-as she loved them in return. 

He had to stop indulging in ridiculous fantasy. Sure, she was soft right now, but she wouldn't be when the drugs wore off. Besides, they couldn't abduct her on her wedding day, then imagine she'd be receptive to romance with him … and Law … and Dominic. The pretty blonde would likely cut them cold for trying to steal so much as a kiss. If they were dumb enough to bring up marriage to all three of them, she'd probably laugh her ass off. If she was crazy enough to try it and stay, she'd end up leaving.