Ethan had perfectly described Madison’s backpack, right down to the food he’d tucked inside for her.

  Heart racing, Matt lunged into the cab of his vehicle and turned it over, squealing out of his parking spot. “When you found the backpack, was it alone? Did you find anything else?”

  Matt’s heart pounded as he waited for Ethan’s reply, hoping the gnat was smart enough not to say anything sensitive over the phone. If he’d somehow stumbled onto Madison’s belongings and not the woman herself, what did that mean? What could it mean, other than someone who didn’t have her health and welfare in mind had gotten their hands on her?

  “Oh, it’s not alone. Something else very interesting came with it. But I might hang onto that for a while. It’s…warm. And very attractive. Kind of my type and all. But I thought you should know about the backpack.”

  So Ethan had Madison. Matt let out a huge sigh of relief. For an instant, he almost didn’t care that the bastard was yanking his chain. But if Ethan laid a single finger on her, Matt swore he’d take the cocksucker apart limb by limb and inflict maximum pain. “Is everything you found in good condition?”

  “Excellent, actually. A little routine maintenance and all seems well.”

  Thank fuck. Somehow, Madison had fled Nash’s apartment and found a place to lie low without being caught by the thugs who had nearly carved up his pal. “Where can I find my backpack and the accompanying item? Which, by the way, is mine.”

  “C’mon, Montgomery. Don’t be so stingy. You know what they say… Sharing is caring.”

  The asshole wanted Madison? Over his dead body. “Fuck you.”

  “Pass. I’m not into cowboy hats or hairy scrotums. But if you want to get your hands on your…backpack, why don’t you meet me here? I’m not far from you, I’ll bet. I’m east of where the nuns live, just south of the highway that kinda sounds like a dude’s dong. Look for lots of blue and flags out front. Once you’re there…well, if you’re a Drew Brees fan, you’ll know where to find me. Hope you got all that. See you soon.”

  Three beeps told him Ethan had hung up, and unless Matt figured out the asshole’s riddle, he wasn’t going to find Madison.

  Quickly, he ran through the brain teaser. “Where the nuns live? Are there any Catholic churches nearby?”

  What was he saying, of course there were. Lafayette was Cajun country, and they tended to be very Catholic. But did nuns actually live in houses of worship? He didn’t think so. Didn’t nuns live in convents? Yeah, but what was just east of a convent?

  No idea…but there was an East Convent Street northwest of the campus. It intersected with Highway 167, aka Johnston Street. That wasn’t Johnson, but it was close to another way of saying a dude’s dong. That had to be what Ethan meant.

  Matt floored the gas pedal and headed in that direction. When he reached the intersection, he turned right, following Ethan’s direction and driving south. Then he started scanning the surrounding buildings.

  It didn’t take him long. Third building on the left. It was white with blue trim and colorful flags flying out front. The Blue Bayou Bar and Motel. Probably built in the fifties, they had a tacky neon sign proclaiming the fact they honored AAA discounts while boasting about their air conditioning, color TVs, and swimming pool.

  He parked haphazardly around the side of the building, where his truck wouldn’t be visible from the street. He hadn’t been followed, but he didn’t need anyone out there still looking for Madison to stumble up on his truck and start nosing around.

  Once he cut the engine, he left his phone in the glovebox—just in case the powers that be were eavesdropping—and hopped out, settling his cowboy hat on his head and pulling the brim low. He stared at a row of faded blue doors with overgrowing vegetation sprouting from crumbling brick planters. There were ten in front of him in a neat row, beginning with number one. Which room was Ethan and Madison holed up in? The only part of the riddle left centered around Drew Brees.

  But Matt didn’t understand. How could being a football player’s fan help him pinpoint the right door? Brees had won Super Bowl XLIV, but this motel didn’t have a room forty-four. He tried to think beyond the obvious… There were lots of stats in sports, too many to name. What number could he associate with Drew Brees?

  Then Matt got it, the number most associated with any player in any sport. And though he loved football, he wasn’t much of a Saints fan. Still, he fucking knew the number on the famous quarterback’s jersey.

  Nine.

  His heart thudded against his ribs so hard it fucking hurt as he jogged to the door and knocked.

  It took a nerve-wracking minute, but Ethan cracked the door, gun in hand. “There you are. That didn’t take long. I guess you’re not just a stupid cowboy, after all.”

  When the bastard flipped the brim of his hat with the barrel of his gun, Matt stepped back and grabbed his wrist in a vicious grip. “Where. Is. She?”

  Ethan raised a cocky dark brow. “So impatient.”

  “Stop fucking around, or I swear to god—”

  “You’ll what?” Ethan turned on a dime, all hint of grinning mockery replaced by a snarl. “You’re an asshole. I think the appropriate term is ‘you’re welcome.’”

  Then he whirled away, trying to slam the door in his face. Matt busted into the shadowy room before it banged shut and found Ethan on the far side of the room—with his arm around a pale and disoriented Madison as if he had every right to hold her. The guy’s acidic grin was back, like he was itching for a fight. Didn’t he see that she was fucking exhausted?

  Matt’s entire body shook as he tried to hold on to his temper—and his mind. But it wasn’t happening. “Okay. You’re welcome, you asshole. Now get your fucking hands off her, or I will kill you.”

  “Matt,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

  After she’d been in the wind for hours, she thought he wouldn’t come? Yeah, she had reasons to believe that. But he’d deal with that later.

  Ethan turned to Madison. “Oh, he sounds awfully possessive, sweet pea. What do you think that means?”

  “You have three seconds,” Matt warned.

  “I have a gun,” Ethan reminded him.

  What game was this fucker playing? He wouldn’t shoot. So why was he poking the bigger bear? What response was he after? “I’ve got ten years of experience and thirty pounds of muscle on you. You really wanna go, or are you going to let me take care of her?”

  “I’m fine, I swear,” Madison insisted.

  Maybe, but Ethan was still touching her.

  “You think I haven’t been taking care of her?” his teammate challenged.

  Matt knew exactly how Ethan took care of the ladies. His brain flashed him pictures of the punk kissing her, stripping her, settling his head—then his cock—between her legs until she screamed. A glance at the rumpled bed with the old polyester spread half on the stained industrial carpet sent Matt’s imagination reeling and had him losing grip on his restraint.

  “Stop it, both of you.” Madison wriggled free and approached him on soft footfalls, her eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. “Why are you angry? He made me feel safe, got me food and water, then watched over me while I napped.”

  “Damn it, sweet pea. You’re making me sound like a saint.”

  Matt snorted. “Fat chance. Get the fuck out. I need to talk to her.”

  He also needed to swallow this unexpected hot tear of jealousy and deal with the danger at hand, but he couldn’t seem to let go of the primal, urgent need to put his hands and mouth all over her and assure himself in the most basic way that she was unharmed.

  “No. I called the bosses as you pulled up. They’re on their way, should be here in fifteen. Hunter said we should both guard her until they—”

  Matt lunged at Ethan. “Out!”

  “Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

  In the tiny corner of his brain not fixated on getting Madison, he realized he was being a complete bastard. In the moment, he couldn’t find a single part of him that cared. “Go to your car. If you’re bored, take your dick in your hand.”

  Then he grabbed Ethan by the neck, threw him out the door, and slammed it, throwing the deadbolt in place.

  Finally, he turned to Madison, his heart ratcheting up.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” Her voice trembled.

  “I came. For you,” he admitted, his chest heaving as he prowled closer.

  As if she sensed his mood, she went wide-eyed, backing up a step at a time until she hit the wall. He told himself to act like a rational human being, ask her how she’d escaped and if she was okay, not tear away every stitch she wore and maul her. But his urges pinged between inspecting her from head to toe for injuries and ravishing every fucking inch of her.

  “Me?” She sounded breathless as hell.

  He nodded, tossing his hat aside, and kept coming straight for her. Unless she stopped him, nothing would.

  Somehow, he managed not to toss her down to the bed and drag her under his body. “If you don’t want me inside you in the next thirty seconds, honey, say something now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Madison gasped. A flush crawled up her cheeks. Her nipples beaded. Her posture softened. Her eyes welcomed him.

  Triumph added another jolt to the adrenaline rush searing his veins. It chugged and pumped, sending most of the blood in his body south until he was harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Tell me what you want, Madison. Out loud.”

  Her breath caught. “Touch me.”

  At her whimper, euphoria detonated, a bomb heavy with desire that destroyed everything but his need to be one with her.

  “Take your shirt off,” he demanded as he toed out of his shoes. “Now.”

  She swallowed, giving him a shaky nod before she reached for the hem and drew it over her head so slowly, he thought he’d lose his mind. He’d torn off his shirt and opened the button of his fly by the time she dropped her tee on top of the sagging chair in the corner.

  The nude-colored bra cupped her perfect tits—the ones he’d barely gotten to touch the other night—without lace or embellishments. Now he wanted his fingers enveloping her breasts, his tongue all over them, while he touched her pussy until it was juicy enough for the pounding he was dying to give her.

  Take a goddamn breath. She’s fragile, and she’s been through a lot. Go easy. Be gentle.

  She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it somewhere in the corner. Then she looked back at him, chin raised. She wasn’t backing down. She wanted this every bit as much as he did.

  Tender wasn’t happening. They had three years of need to sate.

  He grabbed her by the waistband of her jeans and forgot the smart reasons he’d declined the chance to lose himself inside her twenty-four hours ago. After worrying about her and imagining a world in which she no longer existed anymore, he didn’t give a fuck why he should stay away from her.

  Her body crashed into his. He wrapped his fists around the little-girl braids on either side of her head—the ones she’d tucked under the ball cap now sitting on the nearby dresser—and imagined fucking her just like this while she lay on her back, legs spread. He would control her movement, even whether she turned her head. She wouldn’t be able to look anywhere except at him while he railed her mercilessly.

  That shouldn’t turn him on so goddamn much, but even the thought scorched his insides and set his cock on fire.

  What was it about her that brought out his sick side?

  He was done questioning the reasons. He was just going to roll with it.

  Matt slammed his lips over hers, shoving his tongue as deep as he could inside her. She opened to him instantly, granting him access everywhere he plundered and whining in pleasure as he tugged on her hair and compelled her to allow him into the most secret parts of her mouth.

  Fuck, she was sweet. So perfectly balanced between downright sugary and gently tart. Her flavor unhinged him. It addicted him. He wanted to fucking kiss her forever.

  But his cock wasn’t getting any softer, and they didn’t have much more time before company showed and there was hell to pay.

  Reluctantly, he released her braids and wrapped his arms around her, before palming her ass and lifting her from the floor. He spun, settling her across the bed and pinning her body under his to still her when she bounced. With one hand, he worked his fly. With the other, he dragged her pants from her hips. She helped, pushing and wriggling until he tore them free and flung them across the room.

  Then he came at her, jeans around his hips, cock in hand. “Tell me you want me.”

  Madison didn’t hesitate. “I want you.”

  “Tell me you want only me.”

  “I want only you.”

  Jesus… “Let me hear you say ‘Yes, Matt.’”

  Impatiently, he fitted his aching crest against her wet-as-hell opening, praying and counting the seconds until he could slam his way inside her.

  Her shuddering inhalation seemed to take forever. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, Matt. I’ve waited three years to feel you…”

  “Fuck, honey… It’s felt like forever. Take every inch of me.” He surged forward, barreling into her as he slanted his lips over hers, tangling their tongues and taking her in every way he could at once.

  She was beyond tight around the battering ram of his cock. Her body tensed. Her back bowed. Her head fell back, breaking their kiss. Ecstasy broke across her face as she spread her legs wider for him and mewled, nails digging into his shoulders. “Deeper.”

  “Yes,” he groaned as he inched back, then slammed forward again, impaling her on even more of his length. “Fuck, yes. I’ll give you all you can handle and still give you more.”

  “Please…”

  With one hand, he gripped her jaw. The other he extended to the edge of the mattress and used it as leverage to fuck her harder. “I love to hear you beg. It’s twisted and wrong as fuck, but the little whine in your voice gets me so hot.”

  She panted as he picked up his pace, feeling everything spiraling dangerously out of control so, so fast. “I hate asking anyone for anything, but you”—she shuddered—“when you stare at me like you own me and you growl my name…I want to drop to my knees and beg you.”

  Everything about that turned him on. The idea of her kneeling while he commanded her to do whatever he fucking needed and wanted…all while unraveling her body and making her come and scream for him? Jesus, he could barely contain his arousal at the thought.

  “I own you,” he said roughly as he plunged in again and again, shaking the bed. “Look at me.”

  When his fingers tightened on her face, she sobbed. He let up, afraid that he’d hurt her. But she scratched desperately at his arms, her hips urging him to fuck her faster. Then she opened her eyes—so blue, so dilated and full of hazy, dreamy passion. He wasn’t hurting her at all; he was taking her higher.

  She was getting off on his commands.

  He stared down into her eyes, connecting them far beyond where their bodies joined. “That’s a good girl. My good girl.”

  “Yes,” she breathed out.

  “Say it.”

  “Your good girl.”

  He couldn’t help it, he dipped his head and took her mouth again, tattooing her sweetness on his tongue and rewarding her for her beautiful surrender. She gave him her mouth and her trust, turning herself over to him utterly and fueling a need he hadn’t felt in three agonizing years, since the last time he’d been inside her.

  God, this excruciatingly dizzying pleasure was about to send him over, but he needed Madison with him first.

  Anchoring his other hand on the edge of the bed, he used it to batter his way even deeper inside her. “Put your feet on the mattress and tilt up so I can fill every part of your pussy.”

  She complied immediately and tightened, slowly beginning to contract on him as he slid even deeper. “Matt…”

  Fuck, she felt insanely good. And he loved how desperate she sounded. “Very good girl. You’re close.”

  “So close.” That whine in her voice made her sound near tears—and jacked him up even more.

  “Admit that I own you.” Some functioning part of his brain warned he was pushing her too hard, too fast. He should slow down, talk to Madison, make sure she felt not just banged but worshipped. Yet his intrinsic need to establish his claim blew past all common sense.

  “You own me,” she gasped, sounding somewhere between thrilled and ashamed.

  “That’s right. Now tell me that I can have you any time I want, any way I want, anywhere I want.”

  “Yes. Yes!”

  Her cries fed his need to call her his in every single way. No idea where that went or what tomorrow brought, but he accepted the sublimely exquisite moment and fucked her harder, until the bed squeaked like it might fall apart, until she cried out on the verge of climax, until he felt the heat and the need and every feeling he’d ever tried to deny about Madison converge and swell. The sensation gained pressure and traction in his balls, hovering on the precipice of an explosion like nothing he’d ever felt or imagined. “Come.”

  “Matt…”

  He couldn’t wait. “Come now!”

  She came apart around him like a goddess, sensual and flushed, gripping and milking him like nothing he’d ever experienced. Need fired through his body and tore down his cock, destroying all sense of decorum or right and wrong. And he came with a blinding, hoarse cry. For a dazzling moment, his senses were full of only her. Gravity no longer existed. And once the ecstasy had flattened him, all that remained was Madison wrapped tightly around him, the fear they had crossed some point of no return, and the certainty he would never be the same again.

  Madison was still trying to catch her breath and grapple with the implication that Matt had come for her when someone pounded on the door.

  He stiffened. He was still hard as hell as he withdrew from her sensitive sex and swore. “Who is it?”