Page 14 of Captured By Fate

“Fuck off, asshole!” she screams, and I let her free to do the dance again.

A firecracker like this needs a little tug of war from time to time. This is far from over.

Good sport that I am, I release her, weapon and all.

She launches into a series of strikes, each blow powered by rage.

I evade the barrage of attacks, sidestepping and ducking with minimal effort. My grin remains fixed, an infuriating expression of arrogance in the face of her lethal intent. She unleashes a final furious kick, her boot slicing through the air mere inches from my face.

“Not bad form,” I comment casually, unfazed by her show of aggression. She seethes, her chest heaving from exertion. How could I be so calm? So cocky? She wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off my face.

As her weapon grazes my ribs, my hand shoots out, seizing her wrist and pulling her off-balance. She stumbles forward, straight into my arms. Before she can react, my lips crash onto hers in a searing kiss. Shock paralyzes her briefly before she wrenches away, spitting curses.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t focus with me so close?” I taunt.

She screeches in outrage, renewing her assault with reckless fury. Again and again, our bodies collide as she strikes and I evade. Each time, my hands find her waist, her wrist, the back of her neck - any opportunity to steal a blistering kiss mid-attack.

Sensing her frazzled state, I go in for the kill. I catch her fist easily, twisting her arm behind her back and using her momentum to slam her against the wall. She winces as the air leaves her lungs on impact. She thrashes wildly but my body keeps her pinned, my hips pressed intimately against her backside, as the tool falls with a clang to the floor.

“Looks like I won this round,” I purr in her ear before nipping at the sensitive flesh. She shudders, cursing the betrayal of her own traitorous body. She twists violently in my grip but my smug chuckle tells her it is useless.

“Let me go, you bastard,” she growls through gritted teeth. I merely tighten my hold, my free hand trailing teasingly along her hip.

“If you insist,” I reply.

Without warning I release her, sending her sprawling to the floor in an ungraceful heap. She glares up at me, embarrassment and frustration burning in her veins. My eyes glitter with amusement at her predicament.

“I believe that makes me the winner of our little clash,” I drawl. “But feel free to keep trying. I’ve enjoyed this.”

“Good, 'cause I’m not even tired,” she miffs, picking up the tool like the fall didn’t phase her in the least.

Kelley's strikes gain reckless abandon as her rage boils over, a dizzying barrage of kicks and blows. She's a hurricane unleashed, each motion fueled by the need to fight against me, her captor.

I effortlessly counter her attacks, my lips curled in an infuriating smirk. I don't shy away from her accusations of perversion, meeting them with good-humored acceptance, even pride.

"Pervert, am I?" I muse, grabbing her wrist mid-swing with ease. "I suppose kidnapping doesn't help my case either."

With a deft twist, I wrestle the makeshift weapon from her grip, sending it skidding across the floor out of her reach. Kelley lunges after it but I catch her around the waist, pulling her flush against me.

She thrashes in my arms like a wildcat, spitting curses interlaced with creative threats. I merely chuckle, seemingly unaffected by her tirade. My closeness awakens a traitorous desire within her even as her mind recoils.

Sensing the effect I have on her, I press my advantage. My hands wander even as she struggles, testing and taunting in equal measure. Fighting the unwelcome heat my touch ignites, Kelley claws at my arms, desperate to break free.

My grin only widens at her frantic scrabbling, her reactions stoking my twisted enjoyment. I have her right where I want her - fury mixing with frustration, an intoxicating edge of unwilling lust compounding her inner turmoil. This fierce, feisty woman is a prize I fully intend to claim.

“Enough fun and games,” I say, gripping her once more, and hoisting her onto my shoulder.

“Put me down, you freak!” she hollers, kicking wildly.

I’ve never been what you call well-behaved, and so without ceremony, I answer her request with a sharp slap across the backside. She freezes immediately, tensing as stiff as a board.

I carry Kelley from the room, her wild energy a flame I'm determined to harness. My mind is set; I will be the one to temper the fire within her.

Kelley's screams of protest echo off the walls as I stride purposefully through the halls and out through the back door where no one can hear her scream. Kelley's desperate cries for help go unheard over the roars of the motorcycles and the cheers and screams of the fans.

“Help me!” she screams.

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