Page 22 of Claimed (The Captain’s Captive #2)

The four who were ‘undercover’ were only about fifteen feet away from Lisa and Ken, clearly watching the couple instead of pretending to look at the exhibits.

Two were eyeing a large, chattering group of students in the corner who were heading out of the exhibit while they ignored the couples wandering around the room.

Exactly how Jordan had wanted it.

He was still a little let down by how easy this would be. The best the Moon’s government could provide for its citizens to buy was no real match for the soldiers of the Wolf.

Trish tensed beside him again, and Jordan turned his head to see Zadia approaching.

While he’d given one guard per three civilians for the rest of his group, he’d assigned Zadia specifically to Trish.

Jordan wanted to make sure Trish didn’t try to run, but mostly he worried about her getting lost or hurt when everything went down.

People would panic, and, while he concentrated on picking up the targets, he wouldn’t be able to focus on protecting her.

Zadia was nearly as good as Jordan was, though, and she’d protect Trish while he completed his mission.

He hoped Trish had enjoyed the time at the museum.

Zadia slid up beside them, flanking Trish, and focused on the headdress they stood in front of. “Everyone’s in position.”

“Good. Watch over Trish.”

Jordan began walking toward the couple at the back of the room, keeping his steps casual and meandering.

The group of students finished exiting, and Lenore pointed them toward some other exhibit, waving her hands excitedly.

From there, she’d block off anyone headed in this direction while Andrew did the same at the entrance Jordan had just come through.

It was amazing how easily people were willing to be redirected as long as the person directing them wore a uniform.

As he approached, the guards realized a threat was closing in. Grinning, Jordan lifted his hand. The bodyguards jerked in shock before reaching for their weapons as the rest of Jordan’s soldiers turned and rushed them. They’d been surrounded, and they hadn’t realized it.

The ‘undercovers’ were slightly better trained than the more obvious bodyguards: two managed to get their weapons out, although they didn’t get a chance to fire at anyone.

Jordan easily grabbed the wrist of the bodyguard he’d rushed and pushed it toward the ceiling before the man managed to tighten his finger on the trigger.

The gun went off, and the bullet hit the ceiling as Jordan rammed his fist into the man’s stomach. The guard went down with a grunt.

The fighting was fast and furious, which Jordan relished.

The only challenge was leaving the bodyguards alive, otherwise it would have been over a lot faster.

With the other guards fighting his men, Jordan pulled the gun from the guard he’d grabbed.

He shoved the man at Leslie and Victoria, who grinned at Jordan as if thanking him for the present.

It was easy to step forward and grab Lisa and Ken in the chaos.

Lisa screamed, but she’d been screaming since the attack started, so it didn’t have any effect.

“Museum guards incoming,” said Paul’s voice in Jordan’s ear. “They’ll be there in about thirty seconds. Everyone else is either already out of, or on their way out of, the building.”

“Finish this,” Jordan said, raising his voice.

Ken, tried to lash out at him, punching and kicking.

Jordan downed him with a single, precise blow to his jaw.

Lisa screamed again. Wayne approached from behind and put her out of her misery with a tranq that made her wilt to the floor.

He caught her before she could hit, which left Ken for Jordan to carry.

He hefted the smaller man over his shoulder and began moving toward Lenore. “Scatter!”

Everyone split up, Wayne heading in the opposite direction from Jordan with Lisa cradled in his arms. The bodyguards who were still on their feet shouted, some crawling up from prone positions to try to chase after Jordan’s team.

Jordan ran into the next room, and Lenore reached his side just before the museum guards burst through the door.

“They have guns! They shot at us!” Lenore squealed, pointing behind her.

The museum guards hesitated for a moment and then started shouting and pulling their own weapons.

Jordan glanced over his shoulder and found two of the bodyguards standing in the doorway, weapons drawn and looking enraged as the museum guards advanced.

Their shouting echoed in the room, making it impossible to understand what they said, and the museum guards handily covered Lenore’s and Jordan’s escape.

Trish followed Zadia. It was useless to try to do anything else.

She could probably try to escape right now, but …

to what? If her scholarship hadn’t already been given away, the sponsors probably wouldn’t be pleased to see her, regardless.

No one seemed to care enough to report Trish missing.

Or, if they had, the media hadn’t cared to report on it.

And she wanted to know Jordan was okay. Half the fear pounding through her heart wasn’t for herself but for whether Jordan had been caught or hurt.

It was stupid because she knew he was kidnapping someone else right now, the way he’d kidnapped her, but Trish couldn’t make her brain shut off and she couldn’t stop worrying.

All she could think about was what might be happening in that room.

Sure, Zadia’s warning to the security guards about guns had slowed them down, but wouldn’t that have made them more likely to use deadly force?

Or would they still be cautious, since the building was also filled with civilians?

People were already panicked around them as the alarms blared, blending her and Zadia into the crowd that rushed toward the exit.

The second they got outside, Zadia turned and pulled Trish along behind her.

She’d have red marks on her wrist from Zadia’s unrelenting grip by the end of this.

They hurried down the street, which boiled with people going in all directions.

Three blocks away, Zadia pulled Trish to a long line of hover-cars, opened the door to the third one from the front, and shoved Trish in.

“Careful, babygirl.” Jordan pulled Trish up from the floor of the hover-car and into the back row with him, onto his lap.

She relaxed as he did so. Trish was panting and out of breath, probably from trying to keep up with Zadia, but also possibly from all the excitement and people.

He and the rest of the team had gone out of side doors, so they’d reached the cars just before Zadia and Trish. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said, although a small wrinkle appeared on her forehead, and her left hand covered her right wrist. Jordan picked up her hand to inspect her wrist. It was a little pink, probably from Zadia keeping a tight grip on her in the crowd, but certainly nothing to worry about.

The car lifted into the air as Jordan confirmed she was fine. He nodded.

“Good, then we can get on with your punishment.”

With his mission successfully completed and his pretty babygirl on his lap, Jordan was more than a little horny.

He was flush with success and satisfaction and wanted to finish what he’d started on the way there.

Plus, he owed her the seven minutes of spanking she’d earned while they’d been walking around.

“Wait!” she squealed as he tipped her over his knee and pulled up her skirt.

Vaughn glanced over his shoulder, and Jordan gave him a quick glare. If Trish looked up and saw any of the soldiers watching, she’d be upset. Nodding his understanding, Vaughn turned around and murmured something to the others.

Good.

“You earned seven minutes, sweetheart, starting now.”

Jordan was curious to see if she’d be aroused with everyone able to hear her being spanked, even if they weren’t looking.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Keeping his hand firm but not too hard, Jordan started spanking her backside.

Since she had seven minutes of swats ahead of her, he wouldn’t start her off with anything too arduous, especially since he was already pushing her by spanking her in the car with the others.

It might have been a small audience, who wasn’t watching, but it was still an audience who knew what was happening.

Smack!

Smack!

His hand marched down her bottom, and he tipped her forward even more, smiling as he saw the telltale glistening of her pussy.

She was aroused.

Smack!

Smack!

Even though he wasn’t spanking her hard, the accumulation of swats built up and turned her ass a bright pink before slowly starting to darken it. She began crying, wriggling, trying to escape the hard smacks, uncaring about their audience.

Halfway through, he picked her up and switched sides.

“My hand is getting tired,” he told her, ignoring the chuckles of the men. They might have been laughing at his statement or at whatever they conversed about in low voices.

Trish bucked against Jordan’s leg as he started swatting her again, almost as though she were trying to rub her pussy against him. She liked being spanked.

“Last minute.”

She shrieked as he shifted his attention from her ass to her pussy.

The swollen lips plumped under the assault, making her shudder and try to press her legs together.

Jordan responded with two hard swats to her sit-spots, which were already red-hot.

Trish whined, sobbing, but she opened her legs again, giving him access to her creamy, wet pussy.