Hot for Hostage

by Maggie Evans

Usually, we talked about dogs or flea medicine or our Thursday night bowling league. Not stabbing and puppy murdering.

Mr. Reed. I’m the one with the gun, so if I say you’re my hostage, then you’re my hostage. Got it?” Oh, I got it. “Of course. My apologies. I’m your hostage,” I said, no longer hiding my grin. And to think I’d thought today would be boring.

But she acted like she’d do anything to tear sweet Sadie away from me, and that just wouldn’t do. The little bunny had grown on me. Who knew Davian Reed would be attracted to short bakers in pink overalls, pointing a gun at him?

This girl thought of us as partners? Her self-preservation instincts really were broken.

The mutt guarded Sadie like he owned her, and it pissed me off. I couldn’t even hold her fucking hand without him getting in the way.

Well, then. I cleared my throat before beaming at him. “I think I can pencil getting abducted for dinner into my schedule.”

One minute you’re stopping a group of teenage thugs from vandalizing a dog shelter, and the next you’re imagining doing dirty things with the bad-boy mafia prince you held at gunpoint. … Or maybe I’d accidentally slipped and hit my head on the oven door while baking again, and this was all a concussion-inspired dream.

“I don’t think we fully thought this plan through,” I said through gritted teeth after another bounce. His fingers flexed on my hips. “Ignore it.” A shrill laugh bubbled out of me at how unconcerned he sounded. “Ignore that? Not possible.” It was like playing a game of Whac-A-Mole with one very persistent mole.

“What the hell, Vince?” “Seriously?” His jaw dropped, and he jabbed a finger at us. “You’re yelling at me when you’re the ones screwing in broad daylight? This place has a hundred bloody rooms. Find one with a lock.”

It’s natural to feel fear when your hostage is hunting you. Arousal is less common, but we don’t kink shame in this guide.

“And how exactly did it go from him saving you to him pinning you to the road?” I winced. “Well, I might’ve thrown water in his face and attacked him…” I was rewarded with a hint of a smile cracking through Davian’s hard exterior. He pulled me close and pressed his lips to my forehead. “That’s my girl.”