Stolen Jewel by Alexis Abbott

Stefan

Iset my wristwatch for four minutes and put it on the counter, then I turn to the shower. The showerhead sputters for a second before the spray comes to full power. The water pressure looks surprisingly decent for a motel that probably houses more rats than people. I turn the knobs and feel the cold spray turn to a welcoming, tempting heat. Peeling back the flimsy curtain, I step into the steaming shower. I tilt my head back and let the hot water pelt my bare chest. It runs in rivulets along my defined abdominal muscles and downward. I can feel the tension in my whole body resisting still to the warmth of the shower. I have my guard up all the time. Moments of true vulnerability don’t come along very often, and that’s by design. But it does get tiring, living in the world of life-or-death decisions every night and day. Constant vigilance means I’m ready to adapt, to leap into action at a moment’s notice. It also means my shoulders ache from time to time. All that tension, carried with unwavering stoicism.

I try to let myself unravel just a little, even though I know there’s a lot more on my shoulders this time around. This mission involves the most precious cargo I’ve ever carried, and I’m not used to this… enormity of emotion. I’m angry, first of all. There’s a fading ember of frustration that Jewel tried to run from me today, risking her life in the process. But more than anything, I am furious at Brusilov for coercing me into this and flipping the switch. His order to ‘eliminate’ Jewel festers in my mind. The one thing I absolutely cannot do. And he knows it.

Killing Jewel was never supposed to be part of the plan. Kidnap the spoiled daughter to extort the despicable father. It was simple-- I should have noticed it as deceptively simple. For one, Jewel is clearly not spoiled. Nor does she embody her father’s cruelty and malice. As for extorting the father, the more I learn about Freddie Albany, the less likely it seems the man would lift a finger to save his own kin. I should have been prepared for the worst when I was assigned this mission, not that I would have had any option to decline it either way. That realization ignites that same anger in me again.

My hands clench at my sides to think about how they set me up. The bosses found my weakness and decided to poke it with a hot iron… for what? To teach me a lesson. To burn me into obedience. To break my spirit and destroy what’s left of my moral compass. In Brusilov’s eyes, this is the ultimate test of my loyalty and strength. If he can force me to kill Jewel, he can force me to do anything. I would go from a liability to a mindless assassin overnight.

But there are too many flaws in his plan. He didn’t account for my moral calling to outweigh my pledge to loyalty and, to be frank, my fear for my own life. He assumed I would bend to his will and do the deed. He bet wrong. I would rather risk life and limb to protect this woman. If I have to kill her to stay in the brotherhood’s good graces, then consider me out of grace. They wanted to use her like a pawn. Like fodder in a battle that doesn’t even involve her. As though Jewel Albany is expendable. But she’s a human being with thoughts and dreams and a sparkling personality. She has a life. She’s becoming a lawyer, presumably so she can help people. I don’t know as much about her yet as I would like to, but I can tell she has a good heart, even if she is the child of an evil man.

Being brought up by the Bratva, I am used to the idea that evil begets and nurtures evil. After all, I was raised by brutal, powerful men to become a brutal, powerful man in my own right, so it makes sense. However, Jewel is the exception to the rule.

I reach up and brush my fingers through my short, thick hair, lightly scratching my scalp. Hot water licks my shoulders and rolls down my back, giving me a tingle along my spine. My brain reminds me with a jolt that Jewel, the girl at the center of all my muddled thoughts, is just outside. Handcuffed to a bed and utterly helpless. Putty in my hands. If any of my so-called brothers were guarding her tonight instead of me, she might be in peril. I shudder to think about that. It makes my blood boil.

But I want to keep her safe. Not just because it’s what’s right, I genuinely like the girl. I’m impressed by her resilience and her ability to advocate for herself. I smile wryly. I suppose that would make her a good lawyer. On top of that, she’s resourceful, clever, even funny. My mind replays the last warm moments that passed between us, before I got that fateful call from Brusilov that made her bolt. We were in the bedroom at the safehouse. I was sitting on the couch, guarding her while she did pilates on the floor. I think about her body, bending and arching into flexible shapes. Her perky breasts barely peeking under her shirt when it rides up. Her bare thighs and her round, juicy ass in the air when she bends over. Watching her body in action made mine respond. I couldn’t help it.

I’ve wanted her since the moment I watched morning light dance across her ample curves, and no matter what I do to squash my desire, it only grows. Even throughout today, our hardest day yet, I found moments to get lost in her beauty. It was damn near impossible to keep my eyes trained on the road earlier, when it was so easy, so tempting to gaze at Jewel in the overhead mirror. Her rich dark hair loose around her shoulders, her full lips and milky pale skin glowing in the fading light of the setting sun. If only I could have seen her eyes, but she was blindfolded. I feel another flicker of arousal. Seeing her blindfolded gives me so many ideas, not one of them related to the “mission” at hand. I have so much pent-up frustration with nowhere to direct it. I wish I could pour it all into Jewel.

Even now, my cock is stiffening at the thought of Jewel’s flawless form unfolding in front of me. I remember again how close she is. How easily I could walk out of this bathroom and straight to her bed. I could make her feel things she’s never felt before. I could show her incredible pleasure. I imagine her slender arms reaching up to pull me down, her fingertips spreading across my broad, powerful back. I would pin her down and listen to her sigh with delight as she gave in to my touch. It drives me wild, knowing she’s handcuffed to that bed, just waiting for me like the most beautiful present, all wrapped up for me to tear apart.

I turn to face the hot water. I let my head fall back as I close my eyes. The water hits my chest and runs down, slicking up my stiff cock. I reach down to wrap my hand around the thick, hard shaft. I grit my teeth, imagining what Jewel would look like splayed out on the bed in front of me, those flexible long legs spread wide. Her soft doe eyes watching me with anticipation. Begging for me to pound her tight little hole. What I wouldn’t give to fulfill that desire, along with anything else she could dream of.

But the playful mood between us shifted when she broke through that window and took off into the forest. I hunted down my precious doe and captured her again. I led her back to safety. She still doesn’t understand the kind of danger she is in. That we’re both in, up to our necks. She seems to think I’m the one to fear.

I try to shake off my arousal as my thoughts turn from lust to concern. I noticed a change in Jewel’s disposition during that long car ride today. She was so quiet and morose. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I could feel her sadness. Despite her lawyer instincts, she gave up so quickly on interrogating me once I rebuffed her questions a couple times.

I feel a pinch of regret.

I should have been kinder to her in that moment. I should have given her something better than silence, if not a real answer. Although I’m somewhat relieved to have her settled down, I’m concerned about her morale. The spark within her that seemed to keep her questioning, bartering, probing all the time-- it’s disappeared. I let the water pelt my face as I wonder, did I make her give up? Did I break her so completely that she doesn’t even have the urge to fight anymore?

I never wanted to hurt her. Not physically or spiritually.

Beep-beep-beep.

I cut off the water, a little bemused to hear my wristwatch alarm going off. I’m used to living on the road or in rough conditions. Usually, I don’t need a full four minutes to my shower. I’m efficient. I keep my mind empty and focus on rinsing off. But this time, it was just so hard not to daydream about Jewel. I can’t stop thinking about her. I grab the towel from the bar and tousle my hair dry. I pat myself down and tie the towel around my waist, not even thinking about it twice. I told Jewel I would be back in less than five minutes, and I meant it. I intend to prove my word is true. I want her to trust me.

I push open the bathroom door and step out, wearing just my towel. Immediately, I see a frenzied movement as Jewel jumps in surprise. The creak of the bathroom door must have startled her as she sat there zoned out.

She’s pressed back against the headboard of her bed with her brown eyes all wide and fearful. Her free hand grips the blanket for dear life. Her face is paler than a ghost. She looks at me at first like a frightened prey animal before a snarling predator. Then, something different passes over her face as her eyes pan up and down my body. Her adorable, pouty little mouth falls open in a gasp. Her pale cheeks flush deep pink like roses blooming in the sun.

“Oh,” Jewel murmurs. Her hand darts up to cover her mouth.

She averts her eyes. I watch her thick lashes tremble as she forces her attention to the blank gray wall opposite our beds. I can sense her internally struggling. I wish I could tell her how much I struggle, too. How every time I look at her, my body yearns to get closer. To break all our rules and boundaries.

But I hold back. If this is going to work, she has to trust me.

“Sorry to startle you,” I tell her. She nods slightly but doesn’t look my way.

“S’okay. I’m jumpy,” she replies.

“Do you need to use the bathroom for anything?” I prompt her.

Her eyes flick over to me for an instant, then back to the wall.

“I’m pretty grimy from being in the woods. I’d like to take a shower,” she says.

“Okay. I’ll uncuff you,” I offer.

I grab the key from my pants on the bed and walk over to her. She stiffens up as I get closer, and I see her chest rise and fall rapidly. She’s transfixed by my bare chest and shoulders. When I lean over her to unlock her handcuff, I can feel her holding her breath. Is she afraid? Is she aroused? I can’t tell. Do I want to know the answer?

“Come on,” I urge her, taking her by the arm.

She slides off the bed, wobbly on her legs at first.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” she replies curtly.

“There’s a clean towel on the rack. I’ll bring you something clean to sleep in,” I instruct her. She looks back at me as she walks into the bathroom.

“I won’t look at you. I promise,” I add.

She doesn’t say anything, but closes the door part of the way like I did. I listen for the rustle of the curtain, then the change in timbre of the water falling. Once I’m sure she’s in the shower, I open my go bag on the bed. I change into a clean black t-shirt and comfortable black pants. I put on socks and shoes, just in case. I’ll be sleeping on top of the sheets tonight. I won’t let my guard slip again with Jewel in my custody. She’s too important.

I grab my largest oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers she can fold over at the waistband to make fit around her narrow middle, and bring the items into the bathroom.

“Stefan?” Jewel whispers.

“I’m leaving,” I assure her.

I set the clothes on the counter and back away, closing the door halfway. I pace back and forth in the cramped room. I try not to imagine her naked in the shower. The water pouring down her shoulders, slicking over those full breasts and perky nipples. I picture her hand dipping between her wet thighs to stroke her sensitive clit, just like she did at the safehouse. I want to kneel between those thighs and taste her flower. I want to flick that tender little bud of nerves with my wet tongue and lap up her sweet juices.

“Fuck,” I grumble to myself. I shake my head, as if I can physically shake off the persistent desire burning inside of me.

I hear the shower water cut off. I stand guard by my bed, arms crossed, while I listen to Jewel getting dressed. The soft rustle of fabric pulling over her curves. I lick my lips.

She pushes the door open and steps out, looking good enough to eat. She smells fresh, her skin is glowing, and her dark hair falls in damp waves around her pretty face. But I sense immediately that her shower did little to assuage her fears. She looks so sad, and it aches to think I helped make her feel that way.

“Do you feel better?” I ask her anyway.

She shrugs. Then, she gives a charitable nod. “A little bit.”

“A hot shower is good for the body,” I reply.

Suddenly, we both are starkly aware that despite my attempts to give her a completely non-sexualized ensemble to sleep in, the oversized t-shirt still hugs her beautiful curves in all the right places, and falls just low enough to cover down to her mid-thigh. Her cheeks start to turn pink again and she fiddles with her hair, clearly flustered.

“Can we just skip to the part where you cuff me to the bed again?” she mutters.

“Whatever you want,” I answer.

I lead her back to the bed and handcuff her like before. She curls up around her bound wrist, nuzzling into the pillow. Her hair fans out behind her and she looks like a resting angel. I can see a tear shimmering in the corner of her eye. I decide to give her space.

I go back to my bed and switch on the ancient television at the foot of our beds. I flip through the channels-- there aren’t many, and there’s a fair amount of static. But I choose a relatively clear black and white movie from decades ago, lower the volume, and the two of us idly watch it in quiet. After an hour or so, I hear Jewel breathing rhythmically. Her beautiful eyes are shut. She looks almost peaceful.

I wonder what she’s dreaming about.

I spend most of the night awake, watching Jewel sleep. She doesn’t make a move except for the occasional toss and turn. But by the next morning, something still doesn’t feel quite right. Jewel is so soft-spoken, she might as well be a ghost. I give her an orange from my bag as breakfast while she sits on the bed and I pack up. She picks at it, eating a few segments. Once I’m ready to roll, she lets me blindfold her again.

“Time to go,” I say.

I grab her arm and lead her out into the brisk, sunny morning. She doesn’t say a single word, not when I load her into the car, not when we pull away onto the back roads. I look back at her, listless in the backseat. We roll along the winding country roads for hours, and she doesn’t make a peep. Finally, I decide to prod her a little.

“So, do you have any questions?” I ask.

She shrugs and turns her face away even though she can’t see me.

“For a lawyer, you seem ready to concede,” I joke gently.

But Jewel doesn’t laugh. She just stares off blindly. I don’t mess with her anymore. She’s not in the mood to play, and I respect her enough to back down. Although, I am worried about her. Especially when, hours later and closer to our next destination, I notice tears dripping down her face from under the blindfold. Still, no sound. Just silent weeping.

My heart twinges for her in a way I’m not used to feeling. I’m supposed to be so tough. I’ve looked death in the face, and delivered death for many others. But this woman, this beautiful, innocent creature, has my mind all twisted up.

It’s after dark by the time we arrive at our next motel. It’s drizzling, with distant rolls of thunder. I park the car right outside our room for the night. I grab my go back and swing out to retrieve Jewel from the back. I click the door open and find her looking right at me, as though she could see me through the blindfold somehow. I can’t read her expression, but something about her demeanor stops me in my tracks. Her pretty lips part open.

Softly, she asks me, “How many more nights do I have to sleep alone, waiting for the inevitable to happen?”

I’m momentarily stunned by her question. There are so many implications to her words, and I’m not entirely sure what she means. But I quickly assure her, “You don’t have to sleep alone. Not anymore.”

I basically lift her out of the car. She leans on me a little when I lead her to the room. I walk her straight to the queen-sized bed. I had planned on sleeping on the pull-out sofa, but I might be due for a change in plans. But first, I need to procure dinner for my captive. I cuff her to the headboard like always and slip off her blindfold. She blinks in the dim light.

“I’ll be back in a minute with something to eat. Don’t go anywhere,” I add, as if she could possibly escape.

“I’ll be here,” she answers, the closest thing to a joke I’ve heard from her in ages.

I smile faintly and head down the hallway to the vending machine. I get her a couple packs of peanut butter crackers and a big bottle of water to go with an apple from my go bag. I go back to the room and lay out her rations.

“Limited menu tonight,” I tell her.

“I’m not very hungry,” she mumbles.

“You need your strength,” I counter.

She looks pale at that suggestion for some reason, but I leave her to it. She picks over the food throughout the tense, quiet evening. When it’s close to midnight and I can no longer reasonably keep away from her, I slide into the queen-sized bed beside her. I feel her tighten up, but I make absolute sure not to encroach on her space. Even though my hulking frame could easily sprawl out on a king-sized mattress, I stay rigid and close to the edge, facing away from her toward the nightstand. I can feel the enticing heat of her body and smell her intoxicating scent, but I stay back. She’s handcuffed, but she could reach me if she wanted to with her free hand. I don’t sleep at all, not even when I’m convinced Jewel has drifted off.

I lie in the dark, burning up inside at how close we are, yet impossibly far. It would break every rule to reach across that tiny space between us. But that doesn’t keep my mind from running wild with the potential. I’m adrift in my own thoughts when suddenly, I sense movement from the other side of the bed. She’s moving closer. I stay totally still as she pulls herself up almost to a sitting position. Then she slowly reaches over me. She strains as far as her arm will go-- toward my cell phone on the nightstand.

“Damn it, Jewel!” I snap, grabbing her arm in a flash.

She yelps with panic as I flip her over and pin her underneath me. Her arm is still held above her head in the cuff, while her other arm shields her face. She expects me to hit her.

I take her free wrist and pin it down instead. Her brown eyes are wide with fear.

“Please don’t!” Jewel squeaks.

“Don’t what? Why are you reaching for my phone?” I demand to know.

Tears sparkle in her eyes. “To call for help! To-to get away from here!” she admits breathlessly.

“You’re not safe out there,” I growl.

“I’m not safe here,” she cries. “You’re just toying with me. I know you’re going to kill me, Stefan!”

I frown at her in the darkness, surprised to be having this conversation in the middle of the night, in bed together. I groan with frustration.

“Jewel, I didn’t bring you here to kill you,” I assert. “I’m going rogue with you.”

“What?” she hisses. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You were right. The man I answer to-- he ordered me to kill you. But I’m not going to do that. You don’t deserve to die, malyshka. I know that, but the people I work for don’t see it that way,” I explain. “So fuck their orders.”

Jewel’s eyes search my face for truth. She desperately wants to trust me.

“You’re trying to trick me,” she mutters.

“No, I’m not,” I insist.

“I don’t believe you!” she replies passionately.

“Listen,” I snarl, leaning in close. “If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already.”

“Then what the hell do you want?” Jewel hurls back at me, like a challenge.

Our faces are so close now. I can feel her warm breath. Her lips are mere millimeters from mine. She licks her lips. Swallows hard. I swear I can hear her heart thumping. And then, just like that, I decide to show her exactly what it is I want.

I close the space between us and capture her soft lips in a forceful kiss.