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My agency been hired by his brother, Jazz Devlin, a wealthy Atlanta businessman. (I had no idea what their parents had been thinking with those names, by the way. One of them must have a fascination with double consonants. Not to mention silly names) Anyway, Jazz Devlin had chosen the private agency I worked for at random, from what my boss told me, and I’d happened to be the one to get this assignment.

When I talked to Jazz Devlin, he had been worried about finding his kid brother, Kitt, who had witnessed the gang-related murder in Five Points a couple of weeks earlier. The feds wanted his brother to testify, which he’d agreed to do. Yet when they warned him that the bad guys would be after him before the trial to shut him up, did he then do the right thing and let them put him into witness protection and agree to testify? Hell no, of course, he didn’t. He’d decided to run away, like a kid, and he’d been on the run ever since.

His older brother Jazz had tried to reason with him, until Kitt stopped talking to him. They had a troubled history, going back years, Jazz had told me when I spoke to him over the phone. He’d said this wouldn’t be easy, and I was beginning to think he’d been more right than he’d known.

I kept my hand locked tightly on Kitt’s arm as I walked him down the corridor to my room. We reached the door, and I ushered him inside. This was a suite, paid for by my expense account, and it was dim and quiet at this time of night. The maids had already been in to turn down the bed and put mints on the pillows.

Kitt had been quiet all the way up in the elevator, and I wondered what he must be thinking. It didn’t take me long to find out. He turned to me a little belligerently.

“Are you a cop?”

One hell of a time for him to finally ask.

“No, I’m not,” I replied. Which was absolutely true—I had no such affiliation.

He narrowed his pretty blue eyes at me. “It’s entrapment if you lie about it and say you’re not when you really are, you know.”

I smiled at him. I wasn’t a cop, and I couldn’t arrest him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t there to take him back home. I was going to take him into my custody in my capacity as a recovery officer, aka bounty hunter, and I was going to transport him back to Atlanta to hand him over to his brother. But I had no plans to arrest him, so technically, it wasn’t that much of a lie.

“I have no interest in taking you to jail.”

He seemed to think about it for a minute and then he lifted one shoulder. “Okay then.” He looked around the room. “This is nice. Are you rich?”

“No.”

He put his hand on his hip and gazed at me like he was trying to decide if I was lying or not.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Cool.”

I loosened my tie and took off my jacket to drape it around a chair. He watched every move I made like a little hawk. He made himself comfortable too, shrugging off his jacket and slipping off his shoes to tuck his feet underneath him as he lounged back on the couch.

“Why does a guy who looks like you,” he said, looking me up and down, “need to pick up someone in a bar to hook up with?”

“Who said I did?”

He held out his arms and wrinkled up his straight little nose. He was very cute. “Here I am. Isn’t that why you asked me here?”

“What if it was?”

“Then I’d ask you what you wanted. Why don’t you sit over here next to me and tell me all about it. I won’t bite.” He flashed me a flirty look. “Not unless you want me to.” Damn it, I’d thought my cock couldn’t get any harder but here we were.

I sighed, shook my head and took his hand in mine. “I can’t, Kitt. I’m here because your brother Jazz sent me to bring you back to Atlanta. Hopefully, you’ll cooperate, and this time will go by quickly for both of us. Can I count on your cooperation?”

It took a second or two for what I said to register, but when it did, his reaction was sudden and violent. He twisted away and jumped to his feet, turning on me like an outraged cat, his voice raspy and hoarse. “I need to get out of here!”

He squirmed away when I grabbed for him, snatched up his jacket and ran for the door. I was there before him, pulling his jacket from his hand and tossing it across the room. “No. I’m sorry, Kitt, but I can’t let you leave.” He blanched with alarm and gasped, and I could see the fear and panic in his eyes.

I backed away a step and raised my hands in the air to try to show him I wasn’t going to hurt him, but he wasn’t convinced and hell, who could blame him after the way I’d tricked him to get him here to my room.

Kitt stared at me furiously for a moment, but there was fear in his eyes too, and I hated myself for putting it there. He started wringing his hands a little. Then his face changed, and he straightened his back and gave me a shaky smile. He reached up to touch my jaw.

“I-I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. If you want a blow job, I’ll be glad to oblige you. Just don’t get rough, okay? I’ll give you whatever you want.”

I felt like the worst kind of fraud as I reached for him, wanting to apologize and reassure him again that I wouldn’t hurt him, would never hurt him.

I told him that and when he smiled seductively, I said, “I just have to take you back to Atlanta.”

He flinched quickly away from me, as if from a wild animal, his eyes darting around the room, looking for a way to escape. He kept backing up until he hit the wall. I stopped and tried to make my voice gentle and calm.

“Kitt, listen to me, please. I’m sorry about all this. I’m not here to harm you or take advantage of you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Despite all evidence to the contrary, huh?”

Moving in slowly again, I just wanted to comfort him and let him know I didn’t mean him harm. He glanced up at me from under those thick eyelashes with a fearful expression in his dark eyes. “I’m really sorry,” I whispered and drew him carefully, gently into my arms. “Please sit back down. It’s going to be all right.”

Instead, he closed his eyes and lifted his lips to mine, though he was still trembling. Surprised and charmed by his actions, I couldn’t help myself. I lowered my head to kiss him. When he didn’t push me away, I deepened the kiss, sweeping my tongue over his and tasting him. He tasted sweet. I moved my hands down to cup his ass and gently draw him even closer. I felt him whimper softly under my lips, and I made my kiss sweeter and even more gentle, teasing his tongue a little. I could feel his response in his rock-hard cock, which was now pressed up against my stomach, and I pulled his body closer, wanting to consume him, to own him.

He smiled up into my eyes and put a hand to the back of my neck to pull my head down to his. I leaned in, mesmerized by his beautiful dark eyes and noticed irrelevantly again the golden flecks radiating out from his pupils. When our faces were inches apart, and I could feel his hot breath on my lips, Kitt whispered up to me.

“Fuck you.”

Without any more warning than that, he pulled my forehead down to ram his, and I literally saw stars, just like in a cartoon. I reeled back away from him while he pushed me off him, and then he hit the door running hard. Not stopping for his jacket or his shoes, even though it was freezing outside, he streaked down the corridor before I could shake my head clear enough to go after him. I took a moment and then I ran after him and caught him as he jabbed frantically at the elevator buttons. I picked him up around the waist, manhandling him back to my room. He screamed bloody murder, but despite his yelling, I got lucky and not one person so much as stuck their heads out of any of the doors.

When he began to curse me at the top of his lungs, I clapped a hand over his mouth and got him inside, turning around to lock the door firmly behind us. I sensed him behind me and threw up an arm just in time to catch a lamp he’d intended to crash down on my head. He tried to make a break for the bathroom and slam the door in my face, but I shoved it open, grabbed him, and whirled him around to push him face first up against the wall.

Holding him there by the back of the neck, I nudged his feet farther apart. “Feet back and spread ‘em, damn it! Now!”

Shaking hard, Kitt complied, and I hesitated. I should have been putting restraints on him, but I just stood there, sniffing his skin like an idiot, regretting so hard that we’d gotten off to such a bad start and wishing I could wipe away the last five minutes and start over.

“Please. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Who are you? Oh god, did my brother send you?”

“Yes, Kitt. I already told you that. I’m here to take you back home.”

“You can tell my brother you couldn’t find me. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” He glanced over his shoulder at me when I didn’t reply, his lips only inches away. He was breathing hard, but his tone was resigned. “Please. Please let me go.”

“You know I can’t do that. I’m a bounty hunter. Your brother paid me to come after you.”

He gasped and looked back at me, his eyes wild. “I can’t go back there. I won’t!”

He glanced at the door, as if trying to decide if he could get out.

“What do you mean, ‘my brother sent you?’ What are you even talking about? And how do you know my name?”

“You’re not listening. Your brother Jazz sent me to pick you up and bring you to him so he can get you into protective custody.”

“But why? What does any of this have to do with him?” he said, his face still shocked and alarmed. I took a breath to calm myself and decided we could still do this the easy way. I tried again.

“Why don’t you sit down so we can talk? I’m going to order myself a drink, but you’ve had enough, so you can have a soda or some juice. Come on. This thing might take some time to explain, but I’ll tell you everything I know. Let me try to do that.”

“Okay,” he said, seeming to finally accept the fact that he was caught. I led him back to the couch with no restraints, since it seemed he was willing to be cooperative.

His long, lush eyelashes fanned down over his eyes as he stared at the floor.

“I’ll order you something to drink, okay?”

He nodded, but the second I turned my back, he suddenly shot to the door, pulling a chair that sat beside it down to the floor. He took off down the hall for the second time, while I had to take a second to move the chair out of the way. I raced after him, but the little shit was fast and lucky. He was already halfway to the elevators, sprinting down the long empty hallway. I was determined to stop him before he got on the elevator and got away. If he did, I’d deal with it, but I needed to catch him.

Kitt glanced behind himself, and the sight of me charging after him down the hall made him put on extra speed, like in a Roadrunner cartoon. The doors opened just as he got there, and he shot inside. I ran up, just in time to see him grinning and giving me the middle finger as the doors closed in front of him.

I flung myself down the service stairs nearby and raced down a few floors, jumping over a few rails to maximize my speed. Elevators could be notoriously slow in big hotels and if luck was with me, and he got stopped at a few floors, I could catch him.

I jabbed frantically at the elevator buttons when I reached the bottom floor, out of breath from all the running. I was getting too old for this shit. A minute later, the door slid open and there he was, looking wide-eyed and shocked. I stepped inside, got him around the waist and manhandled him to the back corner of the elevator. While he tried to yell and kick and curse at the top of his lungs, I clapped a hand over his mouth and held on tight. Some older ladies got on the elevator at the third floor, and he tried his best to appeal to them for help, but I held him tighter and shook my head at them apologetically.

“These kids today…I’m so sorry ladies, but my little brother sneaked out and had a little too much to drink, and our parents wanted me to find him and get him upstairs and into bed.” I sighed. “He gets vulgar when he doesn’t want to go someplace, and I don’t want to expose you ladies to all the cussing.”

One of them smiled. “You’re such a nice boy. You must be a good older brother.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I do try.” He stomped my foot, and I winced and took my hand away long enough to slap his butt.

“Ow, that hurt, damn you!” he yelled, and I clapped my hand back over his mouth.

“Settle down, now. You know Dad’s going to ground you for a month for this.”

I looked over at the ladies and shook my head. “He’s always been such a handful. Our poor parents.” I leaned in a little in a conspiratorial way. “It’s because he’s not quite right in the head.” I tapped my temple. “Poor thing never has been since he fell off the top of that playground slide when he was six years old.”

That garnered me some sympathetic looks and shakes of the head, and they smiled at me again as we reached their floor, and they got off. One of them stopped on the way out the door and looked back. “Your parents are so lucky to have you, dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, trying to look modest and well-meaning.

As soon as the door close, I popped his ass a couple more times and we rode to our floor. His face was flushed with anger. I hustled him off the elevator and down the hall, tossing him through the door and locking it firmly behind us. Spinning around, I caught him again as he tried to make a break for the bathroom, probably intending to lock himself in. I grabbed him and pushed him face first up against the wall.

I was trying really hard not to hurt him, because he was so much smaller than I was, but he was making it difficult. I leaned against him, squashing him in place with my body and putting my hands over his. “Settle down, damn it! Stop all that yelling and behave yourself. Now!”

He leaned over trying to bite my arm, so I turned him to face the wall and popped his little ass a few times as he yelled, “Stop it! No!”

Trembling with anger, he huffed and puffed and finally settled down, but still I hesitated. I knew I should release him; I knew I was probably scaring him, but I didn’t want him to run again.

Hell, the truth was, I didn’t want to let him go.

“Are you feeling calmer?”

I got a quick nod of the head.

“Are you going to be good if I let you sit back down?”

Another quick nod.

“Use your words, Kitten.”

“Yes,” he spat out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll be good! Damn it, let me go!”

I tightened my hold instead. “We’re going to be together for a little while, and I think we need to get a few things straight between us. I warn you that I don’t like bad boys. Are you a bad boy, Kitten?”

“Fuck you,” he said, pouty and sullen as hell. “And don’t call me that stupid name.”

“See,” I said, shaking my head. “I think I can call you anything I like. And that’s not an answer. I think you are a bad boy. So why don’t you own it? Just tell me the truth. Admit you’re a bad boy, but you’re going to be good for me now.”

He huffed a few times and squirmed and sighed, but I said it again in his ear. “Come on. Tell me, so I can let you go.”

“Fuck you,” he said through his teeth.

I grinned at how pissed off he sounded. “Still not what I need to hear. Tell me you’re going to change your ways now and you’ll be a good boy for me.”

I nudged him when he didn’t answer. “Will you?”

Finally, he shouted his reply, his face bright red. “Yes, damn it!”

“Yes, what?”

More sighs and finally, “Yes. I’ll be good. Just please get off me.”

“I like the word ‘please.’ Okay, I’m moving away now, and you’re going to be calm, right?”

A quick nod of the head.

I eased off him, and he whirled around, staring up at me, openly belligerent, both his fists clenched and ready for a fight. I looked down at them pointedly. “I don’t think you want to do that.”

We stared at each other a little longer before he finally dropped his gaze and unclenched his fists.

“Do you?” I prompted.

“I guess not.”

“I need a simple yes or no.”

“No!”

I pointed toward the chair he’d recently vacated. “Go sit down over there.”

He glared at me and couldn’t resist stomping past me to dramatically throw himself in the chair, showing me more of his bad attitude. He reminded me of a young, spoiled rotten teenager.

“What do you want from me?” He ran a hand through his pretty hair. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“I told you what I want. I want you. My name is Riordan Jeffries. I was hired by your brother, Jazz, and I work for a private detective agency. Is any of this sounding familiar?”

“I don’t know you. What the fuck?”

I came to stand over him and leaned down, tapping the tip of his nose with my finger. He swiped at my hand. “Stop all that cussing. And apologize.”

He folded his arms over his chest and stuck out his bottom lip.

“No apology? All right, suit yourself for now. But as I already told you, Kitt. I’m taking you back to your brother in Atlanta whether you like it or not. He’s going to convince you to go into protective custody.”

“Oh, no, he won’t!”

“That’s between the two of you. I’m just telling you what I’ve been paid to do.”

“So, you’re just going to kidnap me? I don’t have any say in any of this?”

“I’ve been sent by your legal guardian. It’s not a kidnapping.”

“Yes, it is! I’m almost twenty-one now!”

“No. He showed me the papers. You’re subject to his rules and his control until you’re legally of age and until the courts release the guardianship.”

“Fuck him! Fuck the courts and fuck you too!”

“Maybe later. In the meantime, what did I tell you about all that cussing?” I asked, leaning over him. “Now apologize.”

He huffed and puffed and few times and said, “Okay! Sorry. I apologize.”

“All right then. Only the courts can dismiss his guardianship, no matter how old you are. A doctor has stated that you’re mentally unstable and the court put your brother in charge.”

He glared at me like he was trying to peel off my skin with his gaze.

Suddenly, he flung himself out of the chair and sprinted toward the door again, but I got in front of him, putting a hand on his chest. I meant only to stop him from leaving, but he reacted like I’d punched him, reeling back and falling down into the chair and looking shocked. I could see he was trembling all over and his eyes had gone wide. It made me feel awful, because he seemed so young and vulnerable. I was trying to ignore the actual physical spark that hit me when I’d touched him again too. He was looking down at himself, like he’d maybe felt it the same time I did, and he looked back up at me with big, scared eyes.

“I’ve told you I’m not going to hurt you in any way, Kitt. I promise I won’t. I’m sorry if I scared you, and I didn’t mean to. But I can’t let you go.” I kept my voice low and soft, and he stopped shaking at least.

“Please,” he said in a voice so low I had to bend closer to hear him. He looked up at me with big, limpid eyes, brimming with tears. He was killing me. “Please let me go.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not happening. I’m taking you back to Atlanta.”

“It’s not safe in Atlanta. There are people there who want to hurt me.”

“The police will put you in protective custody. You’ll be fine.”

“But it’s almost Christmas.”

Damn it, what the hell did that mean? I groaned on the inside—holidays didn’t mean all that much to me, but I still felt bad for him. Realistically speaking, he’d been running for a few weeks now, and he had been literally homeless since then, relying on the kindness of his friends and complete strangers—and their patience was obviously wearing thin from the state of him. It wasn’t like he’d be missing some grand Christmas celebration here. He had come up to my hotel room with me willingly and would have taken money in exchange for sex if I would have cooperated. His clothing looked a little shabby and he seemed exhausted. Going back home was absolutely the best thing for him.

I hated to see this happen to him, but this was part of the job. You couldn’t feel sorry for the ones you were after—it was a trap that would backfire on you every time. Once when I first started doing this job, I took pity on a young, sixteen-year-old high school girl from Tennessee, who had run away to be with her “boyfriend.” She begged me with tears in her eyes to let her just call him and say goodbye. When I gave in, she managed to somehow let him know where we were during their brief conversation, and he showed up with his buddy and a tire iron to get her. The fucker was thirty-five if he was a day, so I didn’t feel bad about leaving him and his buddy injured and crying on the floor of the hotel room, but it was all unnecessary and cost me time and a lot of money paid to the hotel manager to keep my name and my client’s name out of it.

This trip home to Atlanta would only take a few hours and then this would all be behind him. And behind me. He’d be back with his brother, Jazz, and then it became his brother’s problem and not mine.

I told him as much as he sat very still, with those damn long eyelashes lowered over his eyes, refusing to look at me. He looked pale and wary and unsure, but why did I get the feeling he would still bolt at the first opportunity I gave him? And why hadn’t his brother mentioned how fragile and young he was? I knew he was supposed to be mentally unstable according to the paperwork, though he seemed perfectly fine to me, if a little immature. I was regretting that I’d ever taken this assignment and wished I was anywhere but there in that hotel room.