Flyboy

by Nicole Austin

  Twyla firmed up her grip on the gun, obviously irritated by Zoya’s comment, as she’d intended. A grin pulled at the corners of Jhett’s mouth. Zoya had made a huge miscalculation though. Twyla wouldn’t back down from a challenge. “Not a very smart move. She means business.”

  His interrogator clucked her tongue and waved a dismissive hand. “I am no afraid of her.” Her accent thickened and Zoya confused some of the English words, telling him she felt more stressed than she admitted. Good!

  “Big mistake, bitch. Time to pay the piper.” Twyla pointed the muzzle just over Zoya’s shoulder, squeezed the trigger and laid down a line of fire that had the woman diving for cover. She didn’t relent. Twyla stalked Zoya around the room, giving her no opportunity to get away.

  Green eyes glowing with rage focused on Zoya. He almost felt sorry for her. Pshaw, yeah right. Anxious for her to get what she deserved, he didn’t want to be left out of the delivery. “Twyla…honey.” He yanked at the restraints. “Cut me loose.”

  She didn’t take her gaze from Zoya. “In a minute. This cunt and I have a few things to work out first…with our hands.”

  He pulled harder, creating a racket of metal against metal. “I want to help.”

  “Cool your heels, flyboy. You’ll get a turn.”

  He tried to follow the two women but they moved past the head of the table and no amount of contortion allowed him to see them, however, his hearing worked just fine. Each blow and grunt made him cringe. Twyla MacAlister had a pure heart, the one person he’d ever met with an untainted spirit. He prayed God would protect her. If anyone were to receive a bit of divine grace when most needed, he figured she may just be the one He would take the time to protect.

  The distinctive sound of breaking bone followed a hard crash and someone sobbed. Jhett struggled, feeling useless. He had to get off this fucking table and help her. Straining hard, grunting, he began to sense a bit of give in the straps at his hips.

  “Whoa! Calm down, tough guy. You’re liable to rupture something.” Twyla’s sweet face moved into his line of vision, her lower lip split open and bleeding, but otherwise appearing no worse for the wear. He’d never seen a more stunning vision. “Give me a second to get these clasps undone.”

  “Wh—” Emotion strangled his voice. Jhett cleared his throat and tried again. “What about the team? And Hillman? Did they all get out?”

  She cursed as she fought with the chains and straps holding him down. “Relax. The team has the package and is headed for the rendezvous point. They are all fine, no major injuries, although getting out wasn’t a walk in the park.”

  He released a pent-up breath. At least something had gone right with this fucked-up mission. “You have to get out of here. Get to the plane,” he encouraged.

  “Unh-uh! Not without you, flyboy.”

  “You are way too stubborn for your own good.” The smartass had the audacity to laugh. “That wasn’t a compliment, Twyla.”

  She stopped working on the restraints and met his gaze for a brief moment. The love he saw in her eyes nearly stopped his heart. “Shut up and let me concentrate on getting us out of here. You can tell me how stupid I am later.”

  As she worked his arms free, her fingers first brushed the underside of his wrists, then the side of his chest. Intense waves of rapture made his skin tighten and his cock throb, swelling to excruciating proportions. He bit the inside of his cheek to arrest his climax. When she got to the straps over his pelvis, Jhett almost lost the battle.

  He groaned. “Careful, Twyla. The drug…it makes me very sensitive.” Jhett closed his eyes and tried to think of anything other than her touching him, but it didn’t work. He needed to come. Her fingers brushed his skin in a delicate caress and he bucked against his bonds. “Fuck, I hurt so bad.”

  “Tell me how to help. What do you need?”

  He’d love to ease the painful erection, but getting out was the only thing that mattered. “Just help me get out of here. Anything else can wait.”

  A wicked gleam filled her eyes as the minx became aware of what her casual touch did to him. “Mmm…you being tied down is giving me some kinky ideas.” Rooting through the cabinets, she found a basin, filled it with water and picked up a towel. They had to get moving, but his wounds needed to be cleaned. She washed him off, paying special attention to his hard cock and wiping away the evidence of his rape. She had no doubt it had been a rape, and she wanted to ease the bad memory, replacing it with a pleasant one. “If you need to come in order to feel better, I can accommodate you. Doing so will be my pleasure.”

  “Twyla,” he barked. “Honey, now is not the time to play. We have to make our date, remember. You can play later.”

  She glanced at her wristwatch and grimaced. “Okay…for now.”

  After releasing the restraints, she helped him to his feet, offering support when his legs wobbled. Her brow arched in inquiry. “Any idea where your clothes are?”

  “Not a one.” They made a quick search of the room, finding his things in a trashcan. Twyla helped him ease into his pants, careful of the bullet wound to his left thigh.

  “Tore me apart when you said you’d been hit,” she sniffed.

  Jhett cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. “I’m okay, honey. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  She nodded and went to work on his boots. The laces had been cut so she held them closed by winding some medical tape around them. The drug still raced through his veins, making every brush of her fingers the sweetest agony.

  He wanted to go to Zoya, rip her to shreds and give the woman an education in pain, but he didn’t. No matter how he’d enjoy killing her slowly, getting Twyla out of this horrible place mattered more. Revenge would come, just not today.

  Twyla nudged her way under his arm, wrapping one arm around his waist. She managed to get him out of the building, but each step became more difficult between the leg wound and his arousal. He didn’t know or care what had happened to the guards. Either they followed after the team or his men had killed them.

  His heart pounded, pumping adrenaline through his veins. They were almost to the gate, freedom within their grasp, when his leg gave out. Jhett crumpled to his knees and pain detonated in a firestorm to steal his last remaining ounce of strength. So close, but so far away.

  His eyes widened as a dark van screeched to a halt in the street, the side door sliding open. Alexi Zelenko ran toward them and helped pull Jhett to his feet. Pulling a small black box from his pocket, Alexi opened it and flipped a switch. Jhett counted in his head and when he reached five, a loud explosion rocked the compound. He wavered and fought to stay upright as the ground rolled beneath his feet. Twyla gasped but managed to keep both her cool and continue to help support him as they all picked up the pace.

  “Come, comrade. You have a plane to catch.” Twyla tensed and scowled at Alexi, but together they managed to get him into the van. The door slammed and the vehicle rocketed down the street before more fireworks erupted. Alexi had the whole place wired and it went up in a spectacular bang.

  “What the fuck are you doing back here?” Her tone was filled with acid.

  “Ah, sweetling. I am here to help, as I have done since you arrived in my country.”

  She gave a terse chuckle. “Yeah right. You backstabbing piece of shit. All you did was help get him captured.”

  “Not so, Twyla.” Alexi shook his head.

  Jhett took her hand and drew her attention. “Honey, I’ll explain everything when we’re in the air, but Alexi turned out not to be my enemy after all. He gave me the information that helped us find Hillman in the first place.”

  She still appeared unsure.

  “Call the team, honey. Tell them to meet us at the plane.”

  Tapping her com, she relayed the orders. Not until they were on the plane with the rest of the team and in the air, Alexi staying behind on the runway, did she finally relax.

  “It’s a clean wound, through and through,” Homerun ass
ured him while cleaning and bandaging his leg. “Should heal well. You might have to do some physical therapy though.”

  He nodded in acknowledgement, glad one of the team had first-aid training. He’d hoped not to require that particular skill set during this mission. Thankfully, his visible wounds were not bad. Going into Stark, facing Zoya again had healed a few of the internal scars too.

  The rest of the team moved to the front of the plane, finally giving them a bit of privacy to recuperate on the makeshift bed. Some of the concern had left Twyla’s eyes and they took on a wicked gleam as she cuddled up next to him. His still painfully erect cock jerked in anticipation. “What devious ideas are brewing in that nimble mind of yours, hussy?”

  She gasped. “Why did you call me that?”

  Jhett shrugged. “I don’t know, just popped into my head. You’ve got this look on your face. All fierce determination and sex.”

  “Mmm!” The moan vibrated through his neck where her lips pressed a tender kiss. “I have some unfinished business. Remember…you told me I could play later. Well, it’s later.”

  Jhett folded his arms behind his head and smiled at her. “I’m all yours, honey.” He spread his legs as she slid over top of him and fit herself into the space. The drugs still pumped through his bloodstream, making even the soft curve of her belly hurt, but he would not stop her this time.

  Twyla dragged his shirt over his torso, her fingernails lightly scoring his skin. She licked a taut nipple and the damp sensation shot straight to his erection where it strained the fly of his pants. Gritting his teeth, he bunched the material, pillowing his head behind his neck, and watched. She kissed her way down his body, her face reflecting totally absorption in her task. When she reached his waist, she made quick work of releasing his cock from his pants.

  Her fist wrapped around his shaft and stroked him. “Fuck, honey. That feels so good.” Too good. He wasn’t going to last long. Already he had trouble holding back his climax. Once she took him in her mouth, he’d be history but what a way to go.

  Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue licked at the fluid escaping his slit. “Aw, fuck.” The thrust of his hips may be involuntary, but he didn’t fight the incredible sensation of her warm mouth sliding down his length. If anything, he tried to burrow deeper into the welcome haven. Any ideas of Zoya, torture or rape fled his mind. He no longer cared about anything other than who was with him.

  Jhett struggled to talk. He had to tell her how he felt, although considering his cock was currently in her mouth, she might not believe the words. “Tw—Ah, yeah. Suck me harder!” She did, applying greater suction, her cheeks hollowing with each firm draw.

  “Twyla,” he gasped. “Honey, I…love…you!” His eyelids clamped tight and bright arcs of white light exploded in his head as her fingers teased his balls. His sac convulsed and cum blazed a scorching trail through his shaft and erupted down her throat.

  Because of the drug, his cock remained erect, almost at full length. Twyla continued to lick and suck until not a drop of his seed remained. When she finally let him go, he glanced down as she licked at her lips with the satisfied grin of a cat that had devoured a bowl of cream.

  Once again she curled up along his side, resting her head on his shoulder, exhaustion pulling at both of them.

  Succumbing to the adrenaline crash, Twyla fell asleep tucked in close to his side. Her soft curves and warm body increased his arousal and kept him hard. His thoughts raced, circling back to the same thing. When he’d professed his love, she had not responded. Did that mean the emotion was not shared? Did she love him back? Wondering would get him nowhere. When they got back home, the two of them would have to talk about where this thing between them was headed. Decision made, he finally managed to turn off his mind and fall asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luxuriating in the firm mattress and fine linens beneath her, Twyla stretched sore muscles and giggled, thinking she must look similar to Widget when the cat woke from a nap. As her mind began to catch up, she became aware of the familiar scents of Rock Rose Castle. She peeked from her cocoon of covers to glance about the room she’d stayed in last time, a sense of peace washing over her. Being in Scotland felt good, like coming home.

  She rushed through a shower, brushed her teeth then dressed in comfortable workout clothes. Walking down the halls was always a unique experience due to the castle’s ever-changing nature.

  In the entrance to the kitchen, she came to an abrupt stop. Kaelin, Danu’s servant and friend, worked at the stove. The giant man wore a bright peach-colored apron to protect his clothing while preparing breakfast. The domestic scene should be out of place for such a large man with his hard countenance, but it fit with his personality. During her time here, Twyla had discovered the sweet, caring man had a fondness for cooking.

  “Kaelin,” she squealed and raced forward, throwing herself into his open arms.

  “Welcome back, Twyla May.” He hugged her tight, lifting her feet right off the floor. “How did your mission go?” What a trip it had been to learn the man could hold an intelligent conversation instead of just grunt like Lurch.

  When he set her down, Twyla rubbed at her chest. “I believe it would be considered a success. We extracted the computer guru and the team got out with only one injury. Last I remember we were on our way home.” She clutched at her chest as a sudden horrible thought occurred. “Oh Lord. I hope we made it home. The bad guys didn’t come after us with fighter jets or something, did they? Jhett…the team…they’re all right, aren’t they?”

  “I don’t know, but if you’re here the mission is completed, one way or another.”

  She grabbed at his apron, searching Kaelin’s eyes for any clue. “Where is Danu? I have to know if the mission was a success.”

  “Calm down, my bonnie lass. Danu is in the practice room.” He gave her another brief hug. “Go on and find her. I’ll give you two a chance to talk before I bring in breakfast.”

  Twyla ran along the shifting hallways, a knot of dread forming in her abdomen. The only reason she could figure for Danu bringing her back to the castle was failure. If she’d failed at the mission…

  No! She had not failed and would not allow herself to consider life without Jhett.

  A familiar wall hanging captured her attention as she neared the library. Twyla paused to study the handsome man standing on the cliffs before the castle, gazing out to sea, the breeze ruffling his dark hair around his shoulders. She remembered the subject’s posture being rigid, his hard expression filled with misery and anguish. The tapestry had changed since she’d last seen it. This time he appeared relaxed and at peace, almost wistful.

  As she’d done before, Twyla traced his square jaw with her fingertips, trailing the soft caress over broad shoulders and the glorious arch of white feathered wings sprouting from his upper back, trailing to the ground for several feet behind. She no longer had to wonder about him because she knew well who the art represented. A man born to fly among the heavens, Jhett Ramsey. The man she respected, trusted, desired and cherished. The man she loved.

  Seeing him changed in the tapestry, revitalized and serene, had to mean she’d had a positive effect on his life. With all her heart she prayed that the wall hanging represented his well-being back in their reality.

  Entering the room, she found Danu sitting on the exercise mats, explaining the life of a Hussy warrior hunter to a woman with short, spiky blonde hair. Upon seeing Twyla, Danu excused herself and guided her outside to walk in the beautiful gardens.

  “How are you feeling? Did you rest well?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m fine.” She stopped walking and turned to face her mentor. “Please, Danu. Tell me what’s happened. Was the mission a success? Is Jhett…?” Her voice trembled and words failed Twyla.

  Danu’s hand cupped her face. “What does your heart tell you?”

  “My heart…” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Right now it’s beating about a million times a second. Ple
ase, Danu…”

  “Focus, Twyla. You have a strong connection to Jhett. Reach out through the connection and tell me what you feel.”

  Twyla sighed, closed her eyes and calmed her mind. When she thought of him, she felt contentment and the easy relaxation of slumber. Her heart slowed, resuming a more normal rhythm.

  “Ah, see. There’s your answer.”

  “Then why am I here, instead of where I belong, with Jhett?”

  They began walking again, but the scenery was lost on Twyla. As much as she loved Scotland, she longed to return to Jhett.

  “I won’t keep you long, but we have a few things to discuss.”

  “Like what?”

  “While your mission was a complete success, your work is far from over, my dear. Your flying man…what is it you call him? Oh yes, your flyboy still has need of your services. You see, his work is not complete, therefore neither is yours.”

  She sighed. “All right, Danu. What do I need to do now?”

  “Jhett is a mere mortal man. He has high hopes and dreams, along with all the faults that go along with being a man. You must be patient with him. Guide him when you can or provide a swift kick in the butt when this is what he needs. Stay with him, the two of you working as a team.”

  The whole thing sounded fabulous to Twyla, but she wanted to stay with Jhett on a permanent basis, make a life with him. “For how long?”

  Danu grinned. “For eternity, of course. You are soul mates, Twyla. For many incarnations now, the two of you have danced around each other but never made a solid commitment. This trend must come to an end. You must put aside fear and hold on tight. Don’t ever let him go. Share your heart with him. Accept what you feel.”

  She could not have held back the wide smile if she tried. Twyla knew it was a goofy, foolish grin, but enormous joy overcame her. “Woohoo!” she shouted and danced around her more stoic mentor, then hugged the ancient woman with all her might. “I can do that!”