Caged by Carolyn Faulkner Read Free Book Online Page B

old family nickname.”
    “My name is–”
    “Mrs. Hemmingway.  I remember,” he rumbled, almost teasingly, his eyes softening on her.
    “Rachel,” she supplied, wondering exactly why she felt compelled to do so.
    “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.  So, Rachel, what have you decided to do— and please do whatever it is before my bladder explodes.”
    He seemed to slip so easily between being a horrible bastard and borderline flirting with her.  It had her completely off kilter, because she had been so cloistered by her father that she wasn’t used to anyone flirting with her, much less a big, potent man such as himself.
    A big, potent outlaw , such as himself, she corrected.
    “I–I will untie one of your hands so that you can use the pail yourself.”
    She wished he wouldn’t smile at her like that, all self-satisfied like the cat, which ate the canary—and she was definitely the canary.  “I’m mighty obliged to you, Ma’am.  Mighty obliged.”  The hand that was closer was the most strategic, thankfully, so that at least she didn’t have to lean her bosom into his face—which she bet he would thoroughly enjoy and tease—if not berate—her about afterwards.
    The pail and its little drip pad was already on the floor, so she simply loosened his bonds and walked away, trying to give him some privacy, although she certainly could hear everything that went on and it only served to make her cheeks flame a brighter red than they already were.
    When he was done, she heard him lean back and came to claim the pail from him, rushing it outside to dump the contents—most of which were intact—into the outhouse.
    Upon returning, she came to stand by the bed, hands on her hips, trying to look no-nonsense, expecting him to hold to his word.
    Only he hadn’t given her his word.  He’d distracted her by complimenting her, and then, by the time she realized the error of her ways, it was too late.  She was standing entirely too close to the bed. 
    The hand she had freed shot out and grabbed the back of her thigh, and—as she’d feared—he’d untied the other. He rudely grabbed her other thigh, lifting her up and over him. He turned to trap her between his considerable bulk and the wall, biting back a groan as he did so. He’d placed her back where she’d thought she’d gotten free of.
    “Mr.–Mr. Cage–”
    “No, Rachel, not mister. Just Cage,” he whispered, his nose pressed to hers.
    “You are violating the letter of our agreement.”
    His grin did not bode well for her future.  “I don’t believe that I agreed to anything, Rachel.”  And his hands were far from idle; they were quite busy removing her clothing while his lips pressed—with surprising, annoying gentleness— the side of her neck.
    Rachel cursed herself inwardly for not getting more completely dressed when she had the opportunity.  She’d put her bloomers and her dress on, but not much else.  Her stockings, garter and shift were all still lying on the floor by his side of the bed, and he had made frighteningly quick work of the buttons that marched down the front of her dress, and once it was splayed open her breasts were naked to his increasingly hungry mouth.
    She tried to push him away, but even in his weakened state, she was absolutely no match for him, and what was worse was that he very quickly and easily trapped the hands that had been trying to set her free behind her back, holding them tightly in just one of his hands, tugging slightly down on them so that she had no choice but to arch her back against him.
    His lips were open and waiting for that first semi-erect nipple to practically pop itself into his mouth and when it did he simply closed it around her tender flesh.  “No!” Rachel squealed, but nothing came of it, of course.  She could say “no” all she wanted but she had no power to back it up.
    None at all.
    Instead she found herself in much the same position as she had been last night, where