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BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

Joanna Wylde

Chapter One

Sandra rubbed her hands together vigorously, letting the soap cut through the remnants of the massage

oil.

Fat old prick.

The cheap bastard probably wouldn’t even pay her, not that she expected it. That’s what she got for

agreeing to do a private appointment with a new client. At the time it seemed like a dream come true.

Edgar Williams’ secretary had said her boss was desperate, had even offered to pay twice her fee.

Of course, for what he seemed to believe a massage therapist did for a living, her price was a steal. She

could still feel his fat, hairy fingers gripping her ass. Why on earth would a man like that think money

could possibly be enough to make her have sex with him? She’d rather be eaten by a snake!

The pipes made a moaning noise as she shut off the faucets, and she wrinkled her nose. For a couple of

lawyers, Edgar and his partner didn’t seem to make much. Their office was nothing more than an old,

converted house, and it was a dump. She grabbed at the towel to wipe her hands and shuddered as her

fingers hit crust. Yuck. She wiped them on her jeans instead, then turned and opened the door.

“I’m out of here. You should be ashamed of yourself, Williams,” she declared as she stalked out of the

bathroom into the office. “I have every intention of reporting you to the Better Business Bureau—”

Her voice cut off abruptly as she took in the scene before her.

Edgar stood frozen, facing a tall shadow of a man. Neither spoke.

“What’s going on here?” she asked. The shadow stepped forward into the light. He was big, a man who

had clearly spent a lot of time lifting weights. The clothes he wore fit poorly, as if they made for a smaller

man. His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his face seemed chiseled in ice. His arm

moved, catching her eye.

Something glinted in his hand. Shit . It was a knife.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he said to her slowly, his voice so low she strained to hear it. “I’m

sorry you have to be a part of this.” Her eyes flew to his face, meeting a cold gaze. What the hell?

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you, too,” he continued, watching her closely. “I’m here for Edgar,

and I hardly figured he’d have a piece like you around. What should I do with you?”

Her heart seemed to stop beating.

“I don’t even know this guy,” she whispered. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I don’t want

to be a part of this.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” he asked softly, eyes slipping down her still form. “You’ll scream

bloody murder if I let you go. You’ll have to, or they might pin his death on you. In fact, I think I like that

idea. You’re a masseuse, right? I thought guys had to go to special parlors to find women like you. A call

girl is the perfect murder suspect.”

His mouth twisted, giving the word “masseuse” an ugly connotation. She stiffened.

“I’m a licensed massage therapist,” she said. “I went to school for a long time to learn my craft, and I’ve

helped heal a lot of suffering people.”

“Shut up, bitch, nobody cares,” Edgar muttered. “Sean, you don’t have to kill anyone. I’m willing to

work with you. We can make things right between us.”

“It’s too late for you Edgar,” Sean said. “I’m touched by your concern for your girlfriend, though.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Sandra said firmly. She edged slowly into the room, trying to control the shaking

of her legs. Sean stepped toward her, eyes trailing across her body once more.

“I could use some of that licensed healing ,” he said, the words sounding dirty. He dropped one hand

slowly to his crotch, and cupped himself. Her eyes followed his hand, noticing a large, long ridge beneath

his pants. Edgar shot her a glance and sidled to one side of the room. Maybe he had an idea? Not likely,

but she couldn’t bring herself to give him away by following him with her eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, letting her voice go soft. She straightened her shoulders, pushing

her breasts out. If Edgar needed a distraction to help rescue them, she was ready and willing to help out.

Thankfully her T-shirt had a scoop neckline. Now if only she had some more cleavage…

“Not right away,” Sean murmured, running his hand slowly up and down the length of his erection. Out of

the corner of her eyes she saw Edgar slip through the door. What was he doing? He was supposed to

thump the bad guy over the head while she distracted him, not run away. “Not before I’m done with you.

I haven’t had a woman in a hell of a long time. You look just like a ripe peach to me, all soft and filled

with juices.”

A bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Edgar bolted down the hallway.

“Edgar, you bastard!” she screamed. Sean spun around, giving out a mighty bellow of anger. Sandra

looked around desperately for some kind of weapon. The closest thing she could see was a wooden

chair. She picked it up and brought it crashing down across the back of his head. He staggered to one

side and she pushed past him out the door. She could hear his muttered curses as she ran down the hall,

through the living room that masqueraded as a waiting room, and out the front door. There was no sign of

Edgar. She jetted across the wet pavement toward her aging hatchback and fumbled in her jeans pocket

for the keys. Where were they?

Fuck.

She’d left them inside.

A noise came from behind; he was coming. She needed to get away .

She took off down the street, passing boarded-up houses and small, closed businesses. Nine at night,

and the entire block had shut down. Why had she agreed to an evening appointment in this part of town?

It was a cesspit, dangerous for a woman alone.

She could hear his footsteps thudding behind her. Damn, he was fast.

Lightning flashed again; rain burst from the sky, hitting the pavement in splatters. Within seconds she felt it

soaking her hair and her T-shirt. She slipped and almost went down, but managed to flail her arms and

pull herself back upright.

He was gaining on her. She wouldn’t be able to outrun him.

She turned a corner and a light called to her from a storefront diner? She put on an extra burst of speed

and started toward it. Not fast enough. His fingers caught the back of her T-shirt, ripping at it viciously.

She almost went down, but she managed to keep to her feet, somehow tried to keep moving. Maybe she

could rip the shirt and get away…

He jerked back on the fabric. Hard. She choked, falling backwards, hitting the ground with such force

that she couldn’t breathe. He rolled onto her, roughly covering her mouth with his hand.

“You aren’t getting away just yet, little girl,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I’ve worked too hard

for this to let you fuck it up. Edgar will keep his mouth shut, he’ll be too scared not to. You’re another

story.”

Oh, she was scared all right. She choked back a sob, wishing desperately that she hadn’t taken the

appointment. What had she been thinking?

He lay on top of her for several tense seconds as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her chest heaved

against his, the hard points of her nipples flattened against his muscles. Nothing about him gave even an

inch of space. She opened her mouth, gasping against his hand for air. She couldn’t get a deep breath.

One small part of her mind registered he wasn’t breathing hard at all. Bastard.

“I’m going to let you up slowly,” he said, whispered in her ear. His breath seemed hot, menacing. “You

need to keep your mouth shut. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. If you do exactly what I say, you may have a

chance to live. Do you understand?”

She nodded her head, her gaze darting toward the diner. Why didn’t anyone see her? Sure, it was dark

and wet, but they were right in the middle of the street. Didn’t they realize she needed help?

“Look at me,” he said. “Convince me that you understand.”

She turned her eyes toward him, getting a good look at the man for the first time. Pale blue eyes met her

gaze, so pale they seemed unnatural. Witch eyes , she thought, shuddering. They bore through her without

a trace of warmth, two orbs of ice penetrating her soul.

“Are you going to make any noise?” he asked slowly.

She shook her head as well as she could, meaning it. She had no doubt that he’d kill her if she didn’t

obey. Not that he’d enjoy it, she thought. Killing her would be no more than swatting a fly to him. He

wouldn’t think twice about it.

“You keep quiet and stay next to me,” he said. “If we run into anyone, you agree with everything I say.”

She nodded, and then he leaned up on one arm. The movement pushed his hips down into her, and to

her horror she felt something press against her. That same bulge she’d seen before, only much bigger. He

wanted her.

Her startled gaze flew to his face again.

“If you’re good, I’ll keep you around for a while,” he said slowly. “You might have all kinds of uses.”

With that he let her go, pushing himself to his feet and then pulling her up roughly beside him. He grabbed

her upper arm and marched her down the street toward Edgar’s office. As they walked, a van pulled up

next to them, and for one shining moment hope filled her heart. Then the door slid open, and a black man

with eyes as dead as her captor’s looked at them.

“Who the hell is she?” he asked.

“She’s my new toy,” the man said. “She fucked up my little visit with Eddie-boy, and now she’s seen too

much.”

“Why is she still alive?” the man asked as casually as if they were discussing a sick plant. “Valzar isn’t

going to like this.”

“Why do you think she’s still alive? Look at her,” Sean replied, jerking his head in the general direction of

her breasts. “I could use the services of a pro right now, and she’s feeling motivated to stay alive. We’ll

work something out.”

The man shrugged, apparently indifferent to her fate.

“So long as she can’t ID us when this is all over,” he said. “Oh, we got Edgar for you. He’s in a

dumpster about a block the other direction.”

“Thanks.”

Sean pushed her into the van and hopped up after her. She lurched against the other man, and he pushed

her back into a seat. His touch held no kindness.

“Let’s go,” Sean said, thumping the back of the seat before him. The van swerved out into the street,

tires squealing across the wet pavement. Sandra sank back into to the seat, wishing with all her might that

Sean and his friends had gotten to Edgar long before she’d ever heard of the asshole.

Chapter Two

Sean collapsed on the seat next to the hooker. He was exhausted, soaked and had missed out on getting

personal revenge against the man he hated more than anyone on earth. He’d waited years for that

revenge. It was revenge for his fallen men, too, although they would never know about it. They had died

to feed Williams’ greed, along with the hostage they were trying to rescue.

Now he wanted to howl, to punch out with his fists and kill. He forced the feelings back, maintaining his

frozen exterior. He had to stay calm, had to escape. Because of her, he’d lost the chance to kill Williams.

He wanted to hate her, but she smelled too good, even wet and muddy. It had been five years, two

months, and ten days since he’d touched a woman.

He wanted desperately to touch this one.

His old friend Del sat in the seat next to them, carefully ignoring their guest. His silence spoke volumes.

She was a liability; she could link all of them to Williams. He should have killed her.

Del was right, of course. She was a liability. He really couldn’t afford to let her live, but he’d be damned

if he wanted to kill her just yet. Or at all, really. A pro like her would understand, they would come to an

arrangement, he told himself. Hell, she might like South America. He sure did.

He reached between his legs, adjusting his pants to a more comfortable position. His cock throbbed. He

could almost feel her squirming beneath him on the ground, feel her soft breasts pushing against his chest

as she gasped for air. Her belly had given way to him so easily, and he knew instinctively that her legs

would have cradled him to perfection. She was a whore—she knew how to touch a man in all the right

places. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

She shivered beside him. Probably cold, he thought, and scared. Sean wrapped one arm around her

shoulder, pulling her stiff body against his. She didn’t want to be touched—he could feel the fear radiating

from her. But she was so soft and small next to him, like a little rabbit. He wanted to squeeze her. Sean

lifted her onto his lap, pulling her head to his chest.

“We’ll work something out,” he repeated softly, trying to calm her fears.

Beside him Del gave a snort of disgust.

“You can sit up front if you like,” Sean said, giving Del a pointed look. Del shook his head slowly, but

leveraged his large frame up. He stood, bracing himself against the seatbacks as he moved forward and

dropped down into the broad passenger-side chair.

Sean ignored him, turning back to his newfound treasure instead.

Her little ass was tight and warm against him, and he could feel himself swelling even larger. He closed his

eyes, and his hands clutched her body almost spasmodically. Hot. Female. His.

She moaned and gave a whimper of protest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a better customer than Edgar Williams,” he said, not wanting to think about those

fat hands touching her. It was better to imagine she wasn’t a whore, that she was his woman, and he

could do whatever he wanted with her. Of course, he could do whatever he wanted with her, he

reflected, so long as he paid her enough. Once upon a time, the thought might have bothered him,

perhaps even disgusted him.

Now it just made him harder.

He knew they’d arrive at the airstrip soon, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her. He grasped

her small waist, lifting her and repositioning her so that she straddled his lap, facing him. He lifted his hips,

pressing his erection up into the juncture of her thighs.

Damn, that was good.

She moaned once more, and he opened his eyes to look at her face.

Her eyes were large and brown in her face, pixie eyes, he thought with bitter bemusement. Not the kind

of eyes you should find on a working girl. She had pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose,

and she bit her lip nervously as she searched his face. The gesture drew his attention to her lips, and he

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