The Hot Brothers Ch. 15

Being restrained in a grand touring bus had many problems. The first of which were the windows that could permit viewers. The chain attached to my ankle while wearing a chastity belt and several sparkly chains connected to the nipple piercings that dipped downward made me feel like an animal on display that passersby wanted to look at. That went on long into the next day before the large vehicle hid me away and the journey began again.

The second were the close quarters that made chances to see Caleb near impossible. The third were the limited routes to reach a destination that seemed to put John in a foul mood. His grumpy moods were sometimes accompanied by his need for release by playing the cello alone in the large private room--taking me back to rethink the second problem as Caleb's ability to still sneak a visit.

Something magical always stirred within me at the teasing way he bit his lower lip. And, oh did I love the way he looked at my form as I waited on one side while bracing on one elbow with my palm cupping my cheek. A princess captured and awaiting salvation from the barbarian tyrant who ruled this lair of debauchery.

The bad-boy that I seriously hated to love looked absolutely gorgeous with his silky black locks freely flowing down to his shoulders. Like those werewolves who were too delicious to fear and could easily lure any woman they desired.

I perked up, raising onto a hip as he neared, gracing him with the posture of a goddess. Loving the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that guaranteed my punishment to come. And the sting to my backside would be worth every moment in this hero's company.

He looked past me to where the music trickled from the room John currently occupied alone. Once the situation was deemed safe, his swagger had a sinful heat bubbling within me. "I hear there's a super bloom ahead."

And that took me back to the third problem. One that no longer seemed to be a problem. Our route led us to an area I would absolutely love.

"You know what else?" he asked, beaming wolfishly.

I shook my head with a starry-eyed loss for words. It was an act this charming captor proved to crave.

"Your knight in shining armor found the extra key John had hidden away." He lifted it to dangle from his index finger at eye level.

Now I was the one biting my lip. I reached up to snatch it, but he pulled it away.

"Not until John takes his outing to get something." He didn't say what the something happened to be, but I knew it had to be something to do with more ways to punish me.

The music of the unknown piece slowed and the hum of the instrument lowered.

We only had a minute at most if John decided to come torment me.

Caleb tucked the key into his pocket, whispering, "I talked him into a stop in a location where you could look out on the flowers and I could pick some as decorations."

He proved to be so thoughtful, like one of those hard-working cowboys who innately knew how to treat a lady properly. Even me, despite my impure ways before he'd entered into my world.

"Soon." He winked and raised, quickly turning and speeding through the sliding door to the front of the bus.

"Soon," I whispered to the empty silence.

I lowered to my side in my captive princess pose, knowing John's wrathful expression might come out of the room at any moment to assert his dominance over me. The had been uncomfortable for the hours spent earlier waiting on him. Now might be no different in this cruel attempt to lock me away from interactions with anyone.

And I waited, occasionally smoothing my hair if I tilted my head. And that movement usually caused the glittery jewelry chains that dipped between my breasts to angle oddly. I may have been captive, but I intended to be irresistible while fighting against such an evil wizard as he.

A while longer and the touring bus certainly stopped. And even then, my villainous overlord didn't immediately enter the space I'd become confined to. I always loved that wait in a book. Seconds could pass as the words were read or listed to, but when true minutes ticked by and bare skin felt the chill of room temperature air, agitation and anxiety began to take hold.

But the bus began to move again and, after more time, the door finally crept open in my periphery, and my feigned indifference alluded to a lack of interest in the shirtless man who approached as though he came to stand before an insubordination he might penalize severely.

"That chain is plenty long for you to come to me and request a place to sleep," he said.

Not that I would ever admit to such a desire. "I'm rather fond of the floor."

"Then I'll open the walls so anyone with curiosity can see you."

That wouldn't do at all.

"Come to bed, Julie." Forced patience oozed from his tone. He had, after all, wanted an easy wife and family. Coming to his bed must have been what he'd played music and waited for.

But he'd done things to punish me. He forced them upon me, shattering the thoughts I wanted to experience--replacing them with discomfort. In his company, there were no beasts that hunted me. No warlord captured me. I could imagine nothing. He forced absolute acknowledgement and physical awareness.

I lifted my ankle, submitting to his expectation.

He accepted my agreement and lowered onto his knees, eyeing my adorned breasts as he lifted my foot to his chest.

I awaited that moment he might raise it to his shoulder and begin to kiss his way up my leg and inner thigh. It would be so easy for him to refuse to tolerate my insubordination and pull me upward by hips to meet his currently enraged cock, swollen in his smooth pants and ready for action.

By the way his attention remained on my form as he reached into his pocket, I couldn't rule out the possibility that the desire might be clawing at his psyche. But the key he retrieved proved other plans that involved a bed and a connectedness to this new reality that I didn't care for.

22 Consummation

The key turned in the lock of the purple cuff, freeing my ankle.

I could push him away with the heel of my foot and attempt my daring escape--which was sure to fail--but that would have me dragged into his bedroom to receive a punishment I would have loved to read about from my cozy couch at home.

He stood and extended his hand downward to me.

I supposed standing and following was, after all, a privilege he could revoke and force me to crawl wherever he desired for me to go. Choosing sleep over failure, I reached for his extended hand and let him pull me upright. I even let him lead me into the room and past his neatly placed cello.

"Leash yourself," he ordered as he speedily shut and moved the white laptop from the corner of the made bed.

I crawled onto the smooth purple sheets, which did bring their own joy to the moment, even if they were nothing more than a captor's efforts to deceive me into enjoying the surroundings. At the headboard, a new glittery cord of silver awaited me. This one was longer than what he used on me other times I slept in his bed.

I knelt onto my knees in front of it and snapped the end in place, squeezing the padlock closed. My willingness to entrap myself for this powerful creature put me at his mercy. But I wouldn't dare look backward toward the beast about to ravish his prize. Not even when I felt the dip and pull of the bed that warned of his prowl onto the bed.

His palm lightly landed on my shoulder, slithering to my sternum and applying enough force to pull me backward against his bare chest. His face tickled along the left side of my neck, his lips catching on skin as they explored upward.

No heroine could deny her want for her antihero at this moment. Not a single one, aside from a truly boring book to be snapped shut. This man was no antihero, though, and I no heroine, making my foolish joy of this touch all the more taboo. This would be one of those disappointing moments that reality forced upon a woman.

"Stop pretending you don't like me, Julie." The lightness of his mouth as it traced my left jaw made me certain to behave logically and deny him all the more.

He was just a man--a boring, albeit competent at enslaving me, man. Also gorgeous, for a regular man.

That refusal of mine brought his hand from my sternum to my right cheek, guiding my head toward his. Directing me to enchanting eyes that had mastered trickery and dark magic.

Damn him and his dark powers! He'd heated me to the core of my soul. Magnificently so. The sort of bubbly hotness that made me thankful this chastity belt didn't permit him to explore the part of me that ached to be touched.

Lips connected to mine. Warm and consuming. As magnificent as those happy endings. The ones where every conflict had been resolved, and the happily ever after arrived in all its vibrant, heart wrenching glory. Where the shy beauty kissed him in return because he finally earned her affection.

The pads of fingers, both gentle and forceful--but bearing no beastly claws--explored my body.

Forget that happy ending kiss I initially believed it to be, this was the moment of passion. The fiery connection to root for that would set the stage of the attraction that would continue to blossom.

Even the way his roaming hands bumped my breasts or momentarily tugged at the weightless chains that dipped from the piercings sent a greater flare through me. Like an enchanting Egyptian queen and her powerful lover, both drunk upon the lust for each other.

My crown, weighted with sovereign jewels, crashed down. As did the chastity belt once cruelly placed upon me. Their shattering freed me of the conquered oppressor.

My hero's triumphant kiss was accompanied by him lowering me onto my right side as he too followed, tilting me onto my back in a field of magnificent blooms of purples and beiges splashed with pinks and blues. And when he had me laid out for his pleasure, his strong frame shielded me from any dangers--not that any remained.

Anticipation mounted with time compounding upon itself as I awaited his body to lower and connect with mine. That he would consummate our binding. On this holy matrimonial bed of the silken petals of my most cherished flowers. It was the way any woman would crave for her innocence to be lost.

I awaited it. That plunge into me that would forever join us. The moment of his mastery over me as I submitted to his power. The pumps that would ignite me with an eternal flame for him alone.

And I continued to wait, longing for the moment he so cruelly teased me with.

And I waited some more.

A manly sigh preceded my lover moving backward.

And, just like a sleeping princess who'd awoken after a hundred year rest, my eyes fluttered open.

He rose from the bed, strong back muscles shadowed before he picked up a white tee shirt and pulled it on.

I sat upright. "John?" I hadn't done anything wrong. I'd been enjoying his touch. More than simply enjoying it, I loved it. I scooted to the edge of the bed until the leash stopped me.

"Don't leave."

He turned, one brow already risen in sarcasm. "I can send for your fantasy wonderland boyfriend."

He was mad at me? And after the miserable hours I'd spent waiting for him to come to me earlier? I had the most right to be angry.

"No," I snapped, crossing my arms, which inflamed my recently pierced nipples. I attempted to readjust, but he'd already seen my discomfort.

"You don't want to play rugged cave princess with Caleb?" He asked, leaning his back against the wall.

I was fond of those ice caves and the battles for captive females. The conquer and the bindings I couldn't break free of as I became the spoils of war.

"Ice Cave Sovereigns." Okay, maybe that book was a bit extreme in its caveman time period themes. And the cover was a bit cheesy with the Sabre riders. "It was a good book."

"I'm sure it was," he muttered, readjusting his erection in his pants. It wasn't like he lost interest in sex.

"Read it if you don't believe me." I moved backward on the bed to ease the tension on the sparkly leash, kneeling in my wait for him to return.

"It's unrealistic."

"Unrealistic?" I spat the word back to him. I raised my hands to the surroundings in frustration. "And a decked out touring bus with a dungeon is realistic? This is the fantasy of a kid who kept his head in the comic books with busty females because he didn't know how to talk to a real girl."

Mentioning his lack of skill with women may not have been my wisest moment, given his indignant scowl. But that was a kind of cute expression, especially with his tousled hair.

"I never read comics!" he spat, breathing in a way I expected flames at any moment. "Or any other brainless garbage."

"I'll have you know, some of what you call garbage deals with the complexities of being a human." I stuck my nose up defiantly. I would win this argument as I had plenty of times. "You could make fast pals with the locals given your literary ignorance."

It began to feel like that enemies to lovers moment. The ones that had my heart racing for more action from the stubborn couple. At least, until he hastily turned to the door and yanked the handle.

He couldn't leave. I wouldn't let him. "John!" I went as close to the edge as I could, reaching outward in the direction of the slamming door.

And therein proved why fiction would always be more engaging than a dimwitted arrogant man who chose to leave a situation than deal with his issues.