Man of Mystery: A BBW Romantic Suspense (5 page)

We keep going like this for what seems like hours, interrupted only by a short meal and the occasional cuddle break.

I’m old-fashioned generally, so I’ve never had a one night stand before. I never thought strangers could feel such a connection, to share such tenderness as well as lust. If that’s what this is - a one night stand - I’ll take it any day.

Later, countless rounds later, my body refuses to cooperate any longer though I suspect he could still keep going. He doesn’t argue or even appear disappointed, just takes me into his arms. We talk, about nothing, about everything, about the crazy stuff at the airport. Just another day at the office for him, apparently. I can’t imagine what that’s like, the most excitement I’ve ever had at my own job was when that bitch Karen got into a shouting match with someone, who promptly quit on the spot.

“Must get home... Work tomorrow…” I hear myself say, just before I slip into a deep, content slumber with my head resting on Liam’s shoulder.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

I hit snooze on the alarm and struggle to open my eyes.

What a crazy, wonderful dream I’ve had. Ignoring the nagging voice in the deepest part of my mind that a stud like Liam would never actually be that interested me, I close my eyes again for a rerun of every last detail of our time together. How the dim ambient light highlighted his amazing physique. Not an ounce of fat on the man, unlike my own body. The ease with which he carried me to bed. The passionate kisses, desperate moans, but most of all the mind-blowing pleasure we’d felt together.

Wait, where am I?

I shoot up and look around the dark room. The alarm sounded familiar enough. I blink a couple of times and sure enough outlines of furniture start to fall into place. I’m at home, in my room. Alone.

But how did I get here? As if nothing ever happened…

It had felt too good to be true, all of it. Even the scary parts of last night felt too movie-like, too surreal. There’s a dull pain in my head, suggesting one of two things: the onset of a cold or a mild hangover.

Could it be that actually I ended up going out with Maggie, and someone slipped something into my drink, causing all this craziness to unfold in my own mind? Could it all have been a trippy fantasy? No, it felt too real for that.

I fall back into my pillows and close my eyes again. Ugh. I wish I could make sense of it all.

He got into my car, then we went to the airport, then, after he saved the day we left. Where did we go? A hotel. And yet now I’m here, and he’s not. Even though I don’t remember getting home, I have a feeling that if I took a look outside the window right now, even my car would have made it back to its normal place somehow.

Unsure how to feel about last night, I decide I’d better just get on with my morning routine, so I make it to work on time. After yesterday’s review, they’ll do their best to find more faults in my work, and showing up late is not going to help any.

I stretch out my arms before slipping out of bed. Weird, I’m even wearing my normal pajamas.

It’s only when I take the first step, that I get a clear sign that perhaps last night wasn’t just in my head. My thighs are incredibly sore, like that one time Maggie convinced me to join her at her spinning class.

Images of last night come flooding back. How he had me on my back, my legs pushed up onto his shoulders, then spread wide. How I rode him a little later on, until I was so worn out I couldn’t continue, so he took over, finishing both of us off.

I can’t suppress a smile, even though there’s no one around to see it.

Carefully, and without putting too much strain on my already aching legs, I make it through the living room and into the kitchen. Everything’s tidy, just how I left it, except in the middle of the counter, there’s an empty mug with a piece of paper sticking out from underneath.

My heart starts to race as I pick it up and scan the unfamiliar handwriting.

Tess,

Last night was incredible. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking you home and leaving you here on your own, but it’s for the best. My life is complicated, as you may have noticed, and you’ll be safer here.

Still, I need to see you again. What do you say: next week, same time, same place?

You have my number.

Liam

I fold the paper in half, and hang onto it tightly, smiling again.

Next week, you bet I’ll be there!

I can’t believe it’s going to be another four days until I get to see Liam again. Time has slowed to a crawl, every day at work seems to last forever. How will I manage?

Sitting in my car, ready to head home, I can’t decide quite what to do so I keep fidgeting with my phone, looking at nothing in particular on its blank standby screen. Perhaps I should just call him. But then, that would be needy, wouldn’t it?

Some movement in the corner of my eye distracts. I could swear I saw something in my rear view mirror, but now that I’m scanning the office parking lot, all looks quiet.
Great, now I’m losing my mind as well.

Instead of dialing Liam’s number, I select Maggie’s. She’d better be free tonight!

“Hey, Tess,” Maggie answers, sounding as groggy as ever before her shift.

“Hey! Wanna meet up tonight? I’m all antsy and don’t know what to do with myself. Make up for last Thursday.”

“It’s all that guy, isn’t it? You’re so screwed.” Always the blunt one, Maggie tends to say the first thing that pops into her head without fail.

“Well… Yeah, OK, it’s the guy. I can’t stop thinking about him. If you’d seen him, you’d understand,” I try to justify myself.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you spent the night with some stranger, who kidnapped you earlier that same night.”

“He did
not
kidnap me!” I protest into the phone at full volume before catching myself. “Really. He did
not.
”

“Well, he did just get in your car and make you drive him around, while waving around a gun.”

I sigh deeply. Maggie can be quite protective.

“Never mind that. I can handle myself.” I wave her protests away with a dismissive hand gesture, even though she obviously can’t see me through the phone.

“Uhuh.”

“Are you going to tell me whether you’re free to meet up or not?”

“Not, I’m afraid. Can do tomorrow, though?”

I sigh again.
Balls
. Looks like it’s
Friends
reruns and a sad, lonely takeaway dinner for me tonight.

“Sure thing, tomorrow, let’s go for a movie or something,” I suggest, trying to look forward to it despite the twenty-four-hour delay.

“It’s a date.” Maggie ends the conversation with a leisurely yawn as we say our goodbyes and hang up.

Now what?

I twist the key and listen as my car coughs to life. Again, a shadow or something makes itself known to me in the mirror, but when I turn around and carefully examine the backseat, as well as the surrounding cars in the lot behind me, all is clear.
What the hell? Why so paranoid?

Shaking off the craziness, I put the car into reverse and pull out of my spot. Off to the right of the lot, I can see Karen’s car. Karen’s much newer, much nicer car. It occurs to me that I could just bump into it a little to get back at her for screwing me over last week. The scratches won’t show on my old rust bucket, but it’ll drive her nuts, I just know it. There aren’t even any cameras inside the parking, only at the entrance and exit as far as I know.

Stop it; you would never do something like that!

I tighten my jaw, trying to swallow my residual anger as I drive past Karen’s Ford without incident.

The road is clear enough to allow me to join it right away so I speed off, glad I don’t have to see this place for another fifteen hours at least. As I pass through the familiar roads largely on autopilot, I wonder if Liam is out there somewhere, investigating or chasing bad guys or whatever it is he does on a daily basis. Perhaps he’s out there getting into some other girl’s car, flirting with
her
instead of me.
No! Enough already!

I have got to stop thinking about him, or I’ll have an accident. During the rest of the drive, I try to keep my eyes and thoughts firmly on the road ahead.

By the time I reach my neighborhood, my stomach starts to remind me how little I’ve had for lunch. I decide to park up outside the local Chinese takeaway to get my regular Monday night Chow Mein fix. Thank God there’s an empty space left, in between a van and the banged up silver sedan I recognize as the delivery vehicle.

Efficient as always, they have my noodles ready within five minutes, and I head back out, keen to get home and tuck in. As I unlock my car, I hear the van doors behind me slide open.

Two hands grab me by my arms, pull me back and before I complete the shriek that started to pass my lips, something dark and musty is pulled down over my head. I don’t get the chance to see my assailant.

“Calm down, and you won’t get hurt,” a deep male voice whispers behind me, and something in his tone convinces me that he’s serious.

What the hell?!

I just freeze in the dark with my heart skipping a few beats. The food drops down beside me onto the pavement, making a muffled splatting noise, and my now empty hands are pulled back and tied up with something hard and thin, like a wire.
What do I do? Run?
As if I’d get very far, even if I did manage to shake off the man’s firm hold on my wrist.

He drags me backward and lifts me up into what I assume is the back of the van. The door slides shut, and I sink down onto my knees, landing on a pile of something soft. I don’t even want to consider what it might be. Moments later, another click suggests one of the front doors of the van has been pulled shut, and soon after, the engine purrs to life.

Maybe I should have fought back, tried to get away?
Instead, I just gave up, like a complete coward. And it was just one guy, wasn’t it? At least, I only heard one.

The van reverses out of the parking space and breaks so hard I’m thrown over backward onto more of whatever soft thing I’d felt earlier. Whatever it is, I’m glad it’s there, cushioning my fall. The tires squeal as the van races off, turning sharply to the right, making me lose my balance again.

Shit, I am so screwed.

I’m stuck, completely cut off from most of my senses with a cloth bag of some sort over my head, which smells of sweaty socks. That, and the fact that the van is throwing me left to right repeatedly is making me feel ill until finally I curl up into a ball as best I can without the use of my arms.

Minutes that feel like hours pass, and I’m completely disoriented by the time the van stops moving, and the engine is switched off. The resulting silence tries to deafen me, but then the door beside me slides open with the same ominous scraping noise from before. Wherever I’ve been taken, we’ve arrived, and I don’t have a clue how long we were on the road for.

Two hands grab my ankles so hard it hurts, and I thrash about trying to evade them. It’s pointless, though, all that’s done is make the kidnapper’s fingers dig into me harder.

“Stop messing about,” the same voice growls at me.

I swallow hard, realizing that perhaps I’m taking unnecessary risks. Perhaps my first instinct of just going along with whatever this guy wants from me is the safest bet. He drags me over the hard wooden paneling of the van floor, until my legs dangle out of the door, then flips me over onto my stomach and lifts me by my arms.

My knees shake uncontrollably when he sets me down onto my feet. Shit, I bet my outfit is ruined. That’s just perfect.

Try as I might, the sweaty bag on my head blocks out all light, until suddenly, he yanks it off me. I’m blinded by what look like those super powerful spotlights you see on building sites, unable to see what’s beyond.

Where am I? A warehouse?
Whatever it is, it’s big, judging by the echo when the kidnapper shuts the van behind me. I turn, hoping to get a look at him, but he’s dressed head to toe in black, including a mask concealing his features, even his hair color.