Awakening Abduction Read online

  Awakening Abduction

  Becca Jameson

  Hannah is living a normal human life in Boston, until she’s kidnapped from her bed by a man she finds herself undeniably attracted to. James is living a normal lupine life in Seattle, until he’s sent to abduct a woman who disappeared from his pack years ago.

  As Hannah and James hurry across the country to reunite her with her family, they must battle his need to claim her. But their lust is overpowering, threatening to consume them both. Mating between the two wolves is unavoidable.

  Will their union alone be enough to stop a crazy man from attempting to steal Hannah from James? And will her father forgive their mating and accept the union with open arms?

  AWAKENING ABDUCTION

  Becca Jameson

  Chapter One

  “Don’t move.”

  The rough whisper burrowed into Hannah’s deep sleep, forcing her eyes to pop open. She’d have thought the words had been just part of her dream if not for the hand covering her mouth, and the heavy warm body pinning her to her own bed.

  Instinct and adrenaline made Hannah do the opposite of his command. She jerked, squirming against the heavy body pressing her into the mattress. Completely in vain. Her small frame was no match for the size and strength above her.

  Fear tunneled through her system as she tried to catch a glimpse of the figure above her. The night was too dark. Even with the blinds open, no moonlight filtered through the window.

  And there was no doubt her assailant was a “him”. His mouth hovered millimeters from her ear, his longish hair tickling her cheek.

  A slight shift caused his hand to press against her nose. She couldn’t breathe. Oh God. Is he going to suffocate me?

  “Shit, sorry.” The rough palm covering her face eased down an inch, still firm across her mouth, but freeing her nose. She sucked in precious air. “I know you’re scared. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Right. As if she believed that. She trembled. Her worst nightmare had come to fruition. Her mother had always warned her about predators just like this one. A little too often.

  Fight or flight kicked in and Hannah again used all the strength she had to wiggle against the enormous body restraining her. She was truly trapped, her arms and legs beneath the cover of blankets and sheet.

  “Relax. Please. Your heart is beating out of your chest. I swear I’m not here to cause you harm.” Warm breath tickled her sensitive ear, heightening her awareness of the man on top of her. Something about his tone made her pause in her struggles. Soothing. The pitch of his voice called to her on a primitive level.

  Hannah froze. Her breath held, partially by design and partially out of fear.

  A deep breath in chilled Hannah to the bone. His strong masculine scent filled the room. Hannah’s body stiffened. She’d always been exceptionally sensitive to smells, but this…this attacker…somehow appealed to her on a…sexual…level.

  Damn. Her body reacted to him of its own volition. Her pussy clenched, an attempt to hold back the moisture sure to pool between her legs and give her away. Except that was crazy. Hannah knew others didn’t have the unique ability to smell a person’s arousal. She could tell when a man was aroused, even from a distance. Even when he was fully clothed.

  Nevertheless, she squeezed her legs together while her jaw tightened and her traitorous nipples pebbled beneath the arm draped across her.

  If only he would release her mouth. At least then she’d be able to breathe freely without using her nose. No, it wouldn’t completely block the man’s scent—even through her mouth she’d be able to taste his essence on her tongue—but it wouldn’t be as powerful as the reaction she got from her nasal passages.

  Why now? Why on earth would her body react like this to someone trying to kidnap or rob her? Or worse, rape her. What was wrong with her? Was it his scent alone? Or was her body simply turned-on from being held captive? The thought repulsed her.

  “If I move my hand, I need you to promise you won’t scream.” His grip loosened slightly.

  Anything. She’d do whatever it took to keep her physical reaction to him tamped down to a minimum. As if such an idea were possible. It might already be too late. She started to sweat.

  Minty breath blew across Hannah’s nose at an interval so regular she found it hard to believe he was so calm, seemingly completely in control. Wouldn’t an attacker be…nervous…stressed? He was neither of these things.

  Their eyes met inches away through the darkness, her vision only allowing the vaguest first impression in the darkness.

  And then he moaned, laid his forehead against hers and breathed out a soft “fuck.”

  Startled, Hannah began to writhe beneath him, realizing too late the friction only made things worse. Her nipples tightened and ached under the gentle grip of his forearm. Gentle?

  The man snapped up his head, turned his face to the side and inhaled deeply before exclaiming louder, “Fuck.”

  He gripped her tighter, his body rigid above her. And damn if she didn’t find herself wanting him to move.

  Anything. Any movement would help against the ache building in her.

  What the hell are you thinking, Hannah? The man is probably a rapist. He’s certainly not here for a social call. Stop…this…very…instant.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. His heart began to beat faster. Shallow breaths from only his mouth made her question her sanity. As if he too was affected by her smell.

  It wasn’t possible. Was it?

  An occasional sexual awareness had driven her closer to certain men. None, however, had ever elicited this level of desire. None had made her…want…need.

  “Please,” he pleaded, “just don’t scream, okay?”

  His hand slowly edged away from her mouth. Hannah froze, unable to scream even if she’d wanted to.

  He was big. His weight pressed into her. She should have felt squashed instead of wanting him to press closer.

  “What do you want?” she managed to squeak from between dry lips that barely moved.

  “I’m…I need you to come with me,” he implored.

  Her head began to shake ever so slightly back and forth. No! Never let them take you to a second location. Her mother’s words haunted her. She had sat her down at least once a year while Hannah was growing up to warn her against strangers. Please, God.

  “My name is James Morgan.” He cleared his throat of the graveling frog. She wished he hadn’t. “Your father sent me.” He paused. Held his breath.

  “My father?” Hannah whispered. “I don’t have a father. And if I did, I don’t think he’d want someone to kidnap me. You—you’ve got the wrong person.”

  James stared intently at her with dark eyes. “You’re the one.” He took a deep breath and shuddered from head to toe. “Listen, Hannah. Your father, he isn’t dead. That’s just a story your mother concocted to keep you from—”

  “Don’t. Don’t even think about badmouthing my mother. And get off me—right now.” Hannah strained against him, not gaining an inch, her traitorous body wishing the barriers between them would vanish so she could feel his warm flesh against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her throbbing pussy to comply with her demands.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips extremely close to her own. “I’m sure she had her reasons. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know your father. He’s a wonderful man. You’ve been gone a long time, Hannah. It’s time to go home.” He cupped her cheek with the hand he’d just released from her mouth.

  Moments passed. They shared shallow breaths with each other, as if Hannah were breathing in James’ essence. Her entire being intertwining with his. What was happening to her?

  As if in slow motion, he leaned toward her
mouth until their lips touched. He brushed gently back and forth, soft, warm. Hannah willed them to press closer, unable to imagine another moment alive without knowing the taste of James, a man she could barely see. Dark hair hung loosely around the edges of his face. His hard body was twice her size, one leg bent at an angle and crossed over her entire frame to hold her still, forcing her legs tight together when she was nearly going crazy with the need to spread them apart.

  Finally, James angled his head ever so slightly to one side and pressed his mouth into hers. Her mind screamed stop. This was wrong. She didn’t know him. But her body relaxed into his tender touch as he began to nibble around the edges of her lips. After a thorough exploration of the outside of her mouth, James’ kiss grew more urgent, forceful, demanding. Almost rough. And dammit if Hannah’s own lips didn’t go right along for the ride, enjoying his taste as his touch teased the outer edges of her mouth before pressing inside.

  Soft moans filled the air, but damn if Hannah knew who made them. It was madness.

  Minutes passed. Her brain was entirely befuddled. Her only focus was on the most arousing, intense kiss of her lifetime. James licked and explored every crevice he could reach with his tongue and Hannah was unable to stop herself from following suit.

  He tasted like peppermint from some sort of breath freshener. Did kidnappers always freshen up before breaking and entering?

  When James let his hand travel down Hannah’s neck to land in the V of her nightgown just above her breast, she jerked.

  “Stop…” She hated herself for sounding so needy, aroused. Wanton. Her word had no force behind it.

  “Hannah, I…” He pulled back from her lips only a centimeter, let his forehead lean against hers. Gasped for air. “My God. Your father is going to kill me.”

  “My dead father?” She couldn’t catch her breath. “And how do you know my name?”

  James chuckled. The first real sound coming from him that wasn’t based on lust or stress. “If you’ll just listen to me. I know your father. Hell, I work for him.”

  “That’s not possible.” She couldn’t believe this. It was ludicrous. “My father died when I was young.” Even as the words spilled out of her, she knew they weren’t true. The motive and reasoning may be off, but there was no doubt she was meant to be right here, right now with this…with James. Even his name sounded familiar.

  “Hannah, I will prove everything to you soon. Please.” He glanced around the room. “We need to get going.”

  She shook her head again. “No. I can’t go anywhere with you.”

  “You can’t not at this point. Surely you realize this.”

  “What are you talking about? Get off me.”

  “Hannah, you’re mine. You’re—” He paused midsentence. “You have no idea what you are, do you?” James pulled back, stared intently into her eyes.

  What the hell is he talking about? Did he just say “you’re mine”? Was he crazy? Who talks like that?

  His stare was mesmerizing. He seemed to reach into her soul.

  James sat up, dragging Hannah’s body with him.

  She found herself on his lap, the bedding pushed away, her thin nightgown barely covering her. In fact, her legs were bare, the silky material having worked its way up around her waist in sleep. Her bare butt cheek pressed into his jean-covered thigh. Why did she have to sleep in a thong last night?

  Hannah struggled for more modesty, pressing against the brick body of James, but his hold was strong. Her embarrassment over her state of undress almost overpowered her need to possess this man. “Let me go,” she pleaded.

  James said nothing. He pushed Hannah several inches away from his body, his hold on her never faltering, just adding some space between them. His head slowly ducked its way down and then back up, as if he had some insane ability to see her in the dark. The light was too dim. She still had only a vague impression of what James looked like.

  Nevertheless, she felt exposed. She should have felt violated. His breath hitched and she was so overcome with shock she simply froze while he began to caress her with his fingertips.

  He started at her neck and danced his fingers down her collarbone and across the edge of her breast before gazing over her nipple.

  Hannah flinched, the reaction causing her to grab his forearm, stopping him. It seemed as though he could actually see through the thin material of her gown. She knew he would have been able to see rather clearly in the light, but there was no way he could possibly see her well enough in the dark. Somehow she began to doubt that theory.

  “James, stop.”

  “I can’t help myself. You’re so beautiful. Perfect in every way.” He paused. “Do you always sleep in these…things?” He fingered the material just above her breast, briefly lifting it off her aching nipple for a moment’s reprieve from the contact of silk that had suddenly felt too rough, heavy.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Were you…expecting someone?” he growled, a scowl dragging his brows together. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought she heard jealousy in his roughened timbre.

  “Again, it’s none of your business what I wear to bed or who I sleep with.” She pushed in vain to get off his lap, increasingly aware of the wetness pooling between her legs. Her thong would do little to hold back the moisture or the scent. Others can’t smell as well as you. You’re safe from that eventuality.

  “We have to go now. You should probably…put more clothes on, as much as I enjoy this nightie.” Hannah could hear the smile in his voice.

  This banter seemed almost normal, as though they had known each other for a long time. In fact, Hannah had the sensation they had.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Hannah pushed to standing, and thankfully, James let her. She started to back away, pulling her short, flimsy nightgown as low as it would go, barely below her ass.

  “You have to. Your father would kill me if I came back empty-handed.” James stood and sauntered closer to Hannah while she backed up in retreat. “Listen, I know this is very strange, but let’s face it, I’m much larger than you. You’re going with me one way or another. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just resigned yourself to the idea?”

  “I don’t know you.” Right? It sure seemed as though perhaps she actually did know him. “My mom would freak. I can’t just leave simply because you say so.”

  “We’ll leave a note. This is important.”

  “I can’t just leave.” It was only marginally true. In reality, Hannah had just finished college last month and she was still looking for the perfect job while living off the trust fund her mother set up for her when she was little. She had few close friends. The only person who would really notice her missing would be her mom. The woman was nothing if not punctual with her phone calls. If Hannah didn’t answer the phone at eight thirty sharp, she’d be worried.

  She was always worried.

  James said nothing.

  “That’s it? You just want me to go with you to meet a man I’ve thought dead for sixteen years? Why should I believe you? You’re saying my mother lied. My entire life is a lie.” Her voice rose, as did her ire.

  Hannah had been backed into the wall by now. James had inched forward while she’d shied backward. She was plastered to the cold, rough surface of the textured wall, Hannah’s awareness heightened.

  James casually began collecting clothes off the floor. Jeans she’d had on last night, a T-shirt, even her bra. These items he handed to her with an outstretched arm, maintaining a small distance, for which she was grateful.

  “I’m sorry. I know this must be strange to you. I didn’t realize you were so…uninformed. I’ll do my best to fill you in on what I know. I promise. But we really have to get going.” His tone was serious. He wasn’t giving her any more information right now.

  Hannah glanced at the digital clock next to the bed, glad she had good enough vision to see it was three fourteen, but sorry she kept the back lighting on the lowest settin
g. She normally preferred sleeping in complete darkness without the distraction of the green glow the clock emitted, but tonight she wished for once she could actually see better.

  “Don’t just stand there. Get dressed, Hannah.” He grew impatient, his voice low and rougher. “We are leaving in one minute and I don’t really care if you are dressed or not. Personally I’d prefer you stayed just as you are.” He chuckled, “but I assume you’d rather not to head out the door dressed like that. Although, I was surprised to see you traipsing around town last night in that getup.” James waved his hand in a crisscross motion through the air as if taking in the pile of clothes still clutched in her hand. “Those skintight jeans and T-shirt barely leave anything to the imagination. People can even see the lace of your bra through the shirt. Do you have any idea how many men I saw ogling your ass, and those fine tit— Never mind. Move.”

  His last words left little to the imagination and ended in…anger?

  “You were following me?” Hannah stood frozen to the spot. Trying to take this all in. He’d been stalking her. A chill raced through her from head to toe, making her shiver. She hugged the pile of clothes she held.

  “Of course. I needed to make sure I knew who you were so I didn’t kidna—take—the wrong woman.” He cleared his throat. “No chance of that, I see. You couldn’t possibly be anyone other than Hannah Stone.” He was mumbling now. She could barely hear him. “I just wish I had actually gotten close enough to realize you were—” His mouth stopped moving, his gaze fixed on her face.

  What the hell was he talking about? And why on earth was Hannah feeling slightly aroused rather than thoroughly pissed to know he’d been watching her?

  Was the room suddenly colder? A breeze seemed to blow past her and goose bumps rose all over her body. She jerked, yanking the pile of clothing closer to her chest, which did nothing to assuage the ache in her tight nipples.

  “Well, thank God you’ve got the right person.” Snapping out of her stupor, Hannah glanced down at the clothes in her hands. She still had no intention of going with him, but she’d feel better, more protected, if she had something on.