Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

As soon as Taron spotted Brazos on the table nibbling at the cut vegetable, he dropped the chain to Colin’s collar and snatched the black cat off the table top. It meowed in complaint, but Taron wouldn’t let Brazos go until he spat out the bit of onion he’d taken into his mouth.

Once it was over, Taron stroked the confused cat’s head. It was as if he’d forgotten about Colin’s existence, and only realized he had a man to guard when their eyes met. Taron coughed and let the cat down.

Colin bent down to pet Brazos as well, pulling his bound hands all the way to the end of his tail. “Silly boy.”

He then straightened and approached Taron in slow steps. He hadn’t tried to force himself on Colin yet, and loved cats. Those were promising signs. “Maybe cover that chopping board and show me your place?”

Taron put the onion in a box but shook his head with a frown. He grabbed the chain attached to the collar and led the way to the door.

Colin scowled, making sure the expression of sadness was clear in its meaning. “Why not?” he asked and tugged on the belt loop of Taron’s jeans. If he couldn’t get to this guy through his brain, he would do it through his other brain, because Taron had made it clear he was interested.

The chain to the collar rattled in Taron’s hands as he signed.

What else was he hiding if Colin wasn’t allowed to see more?

The continuous distrust was a blow to Colin’s plan, but he could work with it. He was finally in a position to negotiate. “I thought that it would also be my house now. You know, since you don’t want me to leave.”

Bingo. Taron slowed his pace, watching Colin’s face intently for any words.

So maybe Colin was an idiot with less brain than he’d believed he had, but despite the collar and a week in a cage, he was grateful that Taron had allowed him out. He wouldn’t be dying any time soon, and it didn’t seem as if Taron wanted to torture him either. He was wild, not used to company, yet wanted a male presence enough to cave to Colin’s wishes.

Colin sighed, trying to make the hunching of his shoulders pronounced. “Fine. Do you have any other plans for later, then?” he asked, clinging to the conversation for dear life. He’d finally established real connection and would exploit it in any way he could.

But when Taron opened the door and led Colin into the porch, the beauty of the clearing and the forest around it took Colin’s breath away. Pine-scented air entered his nose, wiping away the events of the previous week. He kicked off his sneakers before jumping into the grass.

It was cool to the touch and tickled his soles in a way so familiar he couldn’t help but smile. Even the pull of the chain couldn’t bother him.

Taron hesitated but followed Colin with wariness, as if he were walking his cat for the first time, and wasn’t sure where it would jump off to. They both stilled when something moved at the edge of the clearing, but it was only a deer, and it quickly disappeared between the trees.

A collection of simple sheds dotted the area around Taron’s home, and on their way to wherever they were heading, they passed a chicken coop, the rabbit enclosure and a large patch of vegetable garden. Colin’s car was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t a surprise, but just thinking about it brought back unpleasant memories of the man who held Colin’s life in hands covered with blood.

Taron looked back at Colin and signed.

Hope sparked in Colin’s heart. “Maybe I could help? At this rate, I’m gonna lose all muscle,” he said, hoping to appeal to Taron’s interest in the male form as they circled the house and left the produce garden behind, heading toward a thatch of younger trees.

Taron cocked his head. In the daylight, it was hard to deny how ruggedly handsome he was, even if Colin knew the guy owned an axe he’d smashed into a man’s skull. His green eyes wouldn’t look away from Colin, and the bulging muscles on his hairy forearm promised no mercy if Colin were to run. But that was fine, because he didn’t plan to flee. Not yet.

The sunlight revealed first wrinkles around Taron’s eyes, and his skin looked slightly sun-parched, but that only enforced the image of a lone trapper who did not care what others thought of his appearance. And that beard? It was a bush, even though it smelled clean, and Colin could just about imagine it tickling his thighs during a blowjob. He’d never been with a bearded guy.