“Can you,” his voice was just above a whisper, “do me a favor?”
She bit her lower lip and drank in his handsomeness for a sixth time. Any. Favor. You. Want—she blinked a few times to shake off the sexual images. “Sure. What do you need?”
“Is there any way you can reach the magazine pouch on my belt?” He eyed his Walther. “I want to top this off.”
Trying to stay quiet, Faith finagled her hands down his shirt while wriggling her body.
Randall sucked in his flat stomach to give her more room. “It’s on the lef—” he flinched and pressed his back against the wall a little harder. “That’s not a magazine.”
“Oh, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He heard a smile come through in her reply. “I said on my belt...not below it.”
“Well, in my defense, it does have the same size and firmness of a magazine.”
“Oh yeah? Ten or fifteen rounder?”
Faith rolled her eyes. Men and the lengths of their... “Oh, twenty. At least.”
Randall chuckled privately.
“Double-stacked, too.”
His inner delight hit a crescendo, and he composed himself a moment later. “No one I’ve met so far has said anything about you being such a flirt, Miss Mahoney.”
“You just haven’t met the right ones.”
“Obviously.”
“And it’s time you start,” accomplishing her search-and-recovery mission, she worked her hands back up his body, “calling me Faith. We’re beyond formalities. After all, you’ve seen me naked, and I’ve,” she held the ammunition carrier in the miniscule space keeping their lips from joining, “touched your...magazine.”
Curling his left arm further around her shoulders, drawing her closer...
Faith tensed, her eyelids drooping to half-mast.
...Randall claimed his property from her. “Thank you.”
She ogled his lips, “You’re,” before batting her eyes twice, “you’re welcome.”
He pulled his arm away.
She stayed nuzzled up to him. “Do you have enough room back there?”
He dropped the partial mag into his palm, grinning at her excuse to remain near to him. “Plenty.” He eased the full mag into place, generating only a soft click when he seated it.
“It just dawned on me. I don’t even know your n—”
Lurching forward and pulling her to himself, Randall shushed her with a kiss.
“What the,” a man cursed, “happened in here?”
A minute later, two more voices were heard as three men engaged in a brief, frantic conversation before the leader spoke up.
“Spread out and search the house. She couldn’t have gotten far. She was naked and tied up.” Moments passed. “What the hell are you waiting for? Go! Find her.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 16
CRAP!
His legs intertwined with Faith’s, his mouth covering hers, Randall rolled on top of her, propped himself up on his left forearm, and aimed his Walther at the gap between the two doors while he stared through the gap.
On her back, her head cranked backward, she got an upside-down view of the action through the same narrow space.
Shadows moved across different surfaces.
“She’s not upstairs.”
“The rooms down the hall are empty.”
“You check the basement. You start searching the grounds. I’ll join you after I check out the kitchen and the garage.”
Faith’s body quivered.
Randall held her firm while tightening his grip on the PPQ45.
Shadows grew larger.
Footfalls became more pronounced.
Randall saw a figure enter the kitchen and stop three feet away from the sink.
Seconds passed.
“Sir, it’s me. Mason’s dead, and the woman’s escaped. We’re searching for her as we speak. She couldn’t have gotten that far. I’ll—”
Five seconds of silence.
“Yes sir. I’ll—”
More time went by.
Randall estimated where the man’s head would be, pointed the 45’s muzzle in that direction, and slid his trigger finger down the gun’s frame.
“Understood. We won’t let her get away.”
The dark figure disappeared, and the sound of a door opening and closing followed.
The home was still.
Fifteen seconds later, hearing the faint sound of another door shutting, Randall let his shoulders sag as he looked down.
Noticing she had somehow hooked a foot around his butt, and that her fingers were gripping his waist, Faith met his gaze, the burn in her biceps telling her she had been tugging on him. Her focus zipped to her mouth, and she felt something wet.
Randall pulled back and saw he had been sucking on her tongue the whole time. His cheeks turned red. Perspiration beads popped out on his forehead.
Retracting her appendage, Faith replayed the scenario in her mind. I started to ask him his name. That guy cussed. He made a move. I began French kissing him. And then, she connected the dots, CRAP! He was just trying to quiet me. Heat building in her chest, feeling her armpits getting moist, she brought her elbows in and looked away. “I’m so...”
“I’m sorry.”
“...sorry.”
Their voices were barely audible.
Faith slid her leg down his hip and let go of his waist.
Randall rolled off her.
She brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I didn’t—”
“I shouldn’t have—”
She flashed an uneasy smile. “You go first.”
“No. You go.”
Neither one spoke.
“I—”
“I was only—” cutting her off again, he half smiled. “Maybe we should drop this and concentrate on getting out of here.”
Sighing to herself, Thank God, Faith acknowledged him. “Good idea. How do we do that...get out of here I mean?”
“Well,” he peered through the crack and saw no movement, “since they’ve had enough time to clear the house, they’re probably now searching the woods out back. The garage has a front-facing door. My car’s down the street.” He pushed open both doors.
Faith rolled out into the kitchen.
Uncoiling his legs, Randall pushed off from the cabinet wall, spilled onto the floor, and grimaced while grabbing his hurting ribs.
On her knees, “Come on, tough guy,” Faith slung his right arm over her shoulder and took him with her as she stood. “Let me help you.”
“I’m the one who’s,” he planted a shoe on the tile and rose to both feet, “supposed to be helping you.” He exhaled while bending and twisting his torso.
“You have...and now I’m returning the favor. You okay?”
He nodded. “Took a few punches to the ribs. I don’t think anything’s broken, but,” he
