Chapter 3

 

Getting him into the van was a lot faster than Anna would ever have believed.

Darynn was even stronger than she looked, pulling the two hundred pound man out of the car with astonishing speed. With Ivy’s help, they had the unconscious Quinton in the back in less than thirty seconds. She had no real idea if they’d been seen, but she did know that Grayson Corddray — whose investment firm owned the building the garage was part of — had made sure the security cameras had a mysterious ten minute gap in the footage for that date.

Anna had decided to drive, leaving Ivy behind to take care of the vehicles. She’d make sure Quinton’s BMW was parked right where it was expected. And nobody would dare question why the car was there for so long.

How long is that, Anna?

She’d left it open-ended for a reason; she really wasn’t sure if she’d succeed. At the very least, there’d be a young man with a very sore ass. If nothing else, Quinton Trask would be given a taste — a serious taste — of his own medicine.

Still, Anna couldn’t help but hope for more. It was there, that hint, that clue to something within, something deeper inside him. She wondered if he was consciously aware of it himself.

While it wasn’t technically part of the job she’d been hired for, she’d be damned if she didn’t see where that particular intriguing road might lead. Corddray — and George Trask — had given her a wider leave than she’d ever have hoped for.

Anna intended to explore it, no matter where it might take them.

Turning the van onto the on-ramp for I-90, Anna watched in the rearview mirror as Darynn worked. Along one side was a bench built into the wall, running the length of the cargo area. Opposite was a system of shelves themselves attached to the other wall. It looked like any van one might see an electrician or plumber using.

Only this van held a much more precious cargo than cable or pipe.

Darynn sat down on the bench near his head. Still unconscious, he’d been laid on his back once Darynn had confirmed his vital signs were all stable. She’d fitted him with the four point harness, the restraint ensuring he wouldn’t be moving his hands above waist height, the ankles chained to the broad waist belt, an additional hobble linking his feet together. Quinton Trask wouldn’t be going anywhere they didn’t want him to.

“Did you get the sedative on board?”

Darynn, who’d gone to school for nursing while she’d been in the Marines, nodded. “A little. Just enough to keep him from struggling too much if he wakes up.”

“Good,” Anna said. “He’s going to need his energy. No sense in him wasting it by fighting us.”

“You sure you don’t want the gag?” Darynn’s hand caressed the zip of the huge black bag she’d brought with them. Her bag of tricks, as the blonde liked to say. “I’d love to see him in it.”

“Time enough for that once we get home. I don’t want him gagged until he regains consciousness. Just to be safe.”

Anna and Darynn both knew the dangers of Tasers. The one they’d chosen was almost guaranteed to induce unconsciousness, at least for a short time, with no lasting ill effect. But there was always a risk with any electric shock. The last thing they needed to deal with was Quinton having a seizure while he was gagged tight. The thought made Anna shudder.

Asshole or not, even he didn’t deserve that.

Darynn caught Anna’s gaze in the mirror, the blonde’s slender eyebrows raising in question.

“Okay, have a look, Hauser. I know you’ve been dying to.”

Anna had to admit she was curious too, though she typically liked to wait until she got home to evaluate what she was working with.

Darynn grinned, leaning over and yanking his shirt out of his slacks. He’d been wearing a deep blue button down, the slacks a classy black. Darynn had dispensed with his jet blazer before she’d bound him, correctly noting that the fit of the harness wouldn’t be accurate if it was forced to accommodate the bulkier fabric of the coat.

Anna glanced back occasionally, keeping her eyes on the road, seeing a glimpse of tanned flesh, his shirt hiked up to reveal the flat, muscled abdomen. Would it have made the job easier if he was physically repulsive? She doubted it. In Anna’s estimation, what was between a submissive man’s ears was far more important than what his body looked like.

Being easy on the eyes never hurt though.

“Damn, this belt is in the way,” Darynn muttered, rolling him over onto his belly. “There — there we go.”

“Keep your hands off his cock, Darynn. We’ve got a lot to go over with him before we get to that.”

“Fine, fine.” The blonde’s hand slipped under his belt up to the wrist, her fingers busy at work under the black fabric. “Thank God. Definitely has an ass. He’s got hair on his cheeks though.”

“We’ll take care of all of that.”

They’d be taking care of a lot of things once they’d ensconced Quinton in his new home.

Is that what you call it? Home?

Anna didn’t particularly like a male backside that had hair on it, but she knew Darynn didn’t care either way. It was the dimensions of said ass — both external and internal — that the sadistic Amazon was concerned with.

“Want to see?” Darynn’s grin beamed, even from the shadowed rear of the van. “You’re gonna like this.”

“I’m driving. And ogling him isn’t why we’re doing this.”

“Nice bonus though. Here, just a peek.” Darynn pulled the waistband of his slacks down a little, exposing the curves of paler flesh, the hint of the cleft between the smooth cheeks.

Anna shook her head. “Okay, that’s good. Get up here before you rape the man.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Darynn said, climbing into the passenger seat. “I’ve got a nice thick one in the bag with his name on it. Split him right in two.”

She glanced over at her blonde friend. “You don’t really have his name on one, do you?”

Darynn simply gazed back at her, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Jesus, I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, you aren’t.” Darynn craned her head around, looking at their unconscious cargo. “But he sure is.”