Take to the Limit

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Take to the Limit Page 22

by Dawn Ryder


  That had to be love.

  “I know the feeling, baby.” His tone was edged in rough emotion. Like he was on the edge, that same place she was teetering.

  He clasped the back of her neck, tilting his head to the side so he might press his lips against hers. She knew his kiss now, and yet this one was different. She felt the yearning in it. The seeking.

  It was more intoxicating than ever, binding her to him in body as well as soul.

  “Read the letters.”

  She was still drunk on his kiss when he pulled away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’re getting married tomorrow,” he offered. “I’m sleeping in the bunkhouse, to remind me how good I’m going to have it when you agree to be my wife. Read my letters, Jaelyn, you’ll see that I came back for you.”

  I came back for you …

  She wanted to believe that. It was like the feeling of being eight years old and waiting for Santa Claus. You never saw him, but the magic was there on Christmas morning. Long before expensive gifts were on her list, she’d rushed down the hallway to be delighted by a Barbie doll.

  Tonight, what filled her heart with magic was the dusty paper, filled with the thoughts of a man who had kept her in his heart while in a war zone and never given up.

  She sure as shit was going to marry him.

  * * *

  Ricky slid a fingertip across the screen of the phone he was using.

  He let out a low whistle at the amount in the offshore account.

  His mother had never had more than barely enough. He was going to go back to Ireland and buy a big house and fill it with sons to carry on the Sullivan name.

  “Don’t get too excited. You haven’t finished the job yet.”

  Ricky jumped but Tyler Martin made sure he was far enough away. He waited for Ricky to identify him before moving closer.

  “I expect my money’s worth, Sullivan.”

  Ricky shrugged and dropped the phone into his pocket. “Going down tomorrow. You’re getting a real deal on this job. Miranda Delacroix is here, too.”

  Tyler chuckled. “Line that bird up with the rest of the bodies and there will be some icing on the cake.”

  There was tension in the air.

  Tyler had good instincts and his were telling him that Ricky was itching for some revenge.

  Not that it was anything new. When a man played a high-stakes game, he didn’t make many friends.

  It was better that way.

  Better for Ricky to see him as a threat. A man to worry about disappointing.

  “I’ll be watching,” Tyler said.

  “A second man would make a huge difference in how many bodies hit the floor.”

  Tyler had started to turn away. He looked back at Ricky. “I hired you because my face is known. But if you’re saying you can’t produce what you promised, I can get someone else in here who can.”

  “You wouldn’t know where they were if it weren’t for me.”

  Tyler only shrugged. “That’s irrelevant now. Should have hidden your cell signal better.”

  Tyler melted into the darkness. He’d been in Washington too long. It felt good to stretch his legs. There was something about doing things himself that he was starved for. Dropping his weight on Ricky Sullivan had been pure joy.

  It was going to feel ten times better when he left the Irish bastard’s body at the crime scene to take the blame.

  It was the last piece that needed to be in place before he took his very hard-earned place at the big table. Some would accuse him of selling his soul but he didn’t see it that way. Hale’s team was the last dangling string that might someday be found to uncover everything Tyler had done to buy his spot next to Carl Davis.

  Sell out?

  No, he’d made his way using the skills he had to gain what other men like Carl Davis had been born with at their fingertips.

  Life wasn’t fair, so there was no reason for him to be brainwashed into thinking he had to play by the rules.

  In a way, he and Sullivan had a lot in common.

  Tyler honestly didn’t want to kill him. The guy was resourceful.

  But that wasn’t going to stop him.

  Nope.

  He was too close to tying up the loose ends.

  And he had never been a quitter.

  Ever.

  * * *

  “I thought you were going to bunk with your buddies.”

  Jaelyn had left only one of the bedside lamps on. Somehow, the letters were too intimate to read in bright light. Or maybe it was because she didn’t want to share them.

  “Lost my confidence,” he said. “Decided I should reinforce my position by making you breathless with ecstasy.”

  She laughed.

  He shrugged.

  “Too cheesy?”

  She held up her hand, intending to give him an iffy motion but she was shaking. A quiver was running along her limbs and he didn’t miss it. She felt her cheeks heating with a blush, realizing it was another little tattletale reaction to him.

  He strode forward, reaching out to stroke one hot cheek.

  She shuddered.

  Her eyes closed as all of the words she’d been reading suddenly manifested into physical form. Like the wall between her fantasy world and reality dissolved, allowing her to mingle with her dream lover.

  “Tonight … I’m going to be your lover, Jaelyn…”

  She lifted her eyelids, uncertain if he’d spoken or if she was hearing her own thoughts.

  Not that it mattered.

  Nope, not a bit.

  She reached down and pulled her top off. Bram sucked in his breath, filling her with confidence. Watching him take her in was insanely hot. She got hung up on the way his eyes narrowed, her hands frozen on the hooks of her bra.

  He locked gazes with her. It was as much physical as it was a mental connection.

  “I love the way you strip down for me, baby…”

  “Good,” she said as she popped open her bra. “Because sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me.”

  He stood up and ripped his shirt off. “Because you feel like your clothing is impossible to endure?”

  He lifted one foot and popped the lace on his boot. “I know the feeling.” He placed the boot at the foot of the bed and worked the other one free from his foot. “You know I battle over whether or not it’s a good thing.”

  “How can you doubt?” she asked. “When you wrote me all of these?”

  His pants got tossed aside, leaving him bathed in the meager light, all of the perfection of his hard body for her to feast on.

  “Right … wrong … nothing mattered but coming back for you, baby…”

  “I love you…”

  Oh God, she felt like she would just stop breathing if he didn’t return the sentiment. Nothing short of that was enough.

  He caught her up, binding her against his body, cupping her nape and holding her head steady so that their gazes locked.

  “I’m fucking obsessed with you, Jaelyn. I don’t know if that’s love, I just know I’ve never felt like this before. It’s a fact that I think it’s beyond love.” His eyes blazed with something so fierce, she shivered. “I wouldn’t have written that many letters to your sister and that’s a fact.”

  “Good.”

  Rotten? Maybe. She flat-out didn’t care. He was hers. The letters were hers.

  “Now kiss me, Bram Magnus, and stop making me wait on you.”

  He complied but it felt more like he was claiming her. Holding her nape as he covered her lips with his and took his time kissing her.

  She was burning for him, needing more than just his kiss. Every inch of contact was balm for her starving senses.

  He scooped her off her feet, cradling her for a long moment before lowering her to the bed.

  “We’re going to need a place of our own,” he said as he laid her on the bed. “So I can let you make all the noise you want.”

  “I am not noisy,”
she argued.

  Bram lifted an eyebrow, a wicked gleam entering his eyes.

  “Let’s put that to the test, shall we?”

  He slid down her body, pressing her knees wide and settling over her spread sex.

  “Bram…” She gasped when she realized how much volume there was in her tone, tightly clamping her jaw shut.

  Bram teased her mons, stroking the smooth skin. He looked up her body, locking gazes with her before he plunged his finger into her cleft.

  She squeaked.

  And gripped the bedding.

  “Payback is a bitch…,” she warned him.

  He winked at her. “I hope so.”

  She glared at him but her pique died as he spread her folds and licked her clit.

  The intensity was off the scale, taking her so close to the limit of her tolerance, she let out another startled sound that she smothered beneath her wrist.

  Bram chuckled before teasing her opening with a fingertip, rimming her with it while her passage ached for penetration.

  But she didn’t want him to rush it. No, she wanted to savor the moment. Bram didn’t disappoint her. He teased her, licking her, sucking her little clit and tonguing it before he plunged his finger inside her.

  She jerked and pressed her hand tighter against her lips. It was a battle, though, because she was panting and needed more air, but moving her hand meant the sounds he was forcing out of her went bouncing around the room.

  Bram didn’t let up on her, either. Her heart was thumping so hard, she felt like she just might pass out. Not that it mattered. No, she was straining toward him, seeking that last bit of pressure that would push her over the edge into climax.

  He made her wait for it, driving a pair of fingers into her with a rhythm that was just shy of being fast enough to make the wave crest. He added a little humming right over her clit that sent her into orbit. She twisted and writhed as pleasure snapped through her like a bullwhip. It was searing and sharp and so intense, she didn’t care if she passed out from lack of oxygen.

  “Our own place … sounds … perfect.” Bram was smirking.

  An arrogant grin curved his lips as he came up and over her.

  “Not that I’m altogether upset about our current living arrangements.”

  She sent her fist into his shoulder, but he was so close, the blow lacked any real force.

  “Beast,” she muttered, her voice husky with satisfaction.

  “Just the way you like me…” He growled against her neck.

  He really was a beast. At that moment, he was hard, and hovering over her.

  “I want to remember you like this … wet … hot for me…”

  He pressed her thighs wide, until her knees touched the bed on either side of her. His gaze was on her spread body.

  “I want to know you’re mine.”

  Maybe it would have sounded vulgar if the look on his face didn’t hit her so hard. He liked what he saw. Wanted to possess her.

  Damn she liked the idea of that …

  “Want you to feel what it’s like to be mine…” he whispered as she stroked his cock.

  It was swollen and hard, jutting out from his body. She ached for it, for him and yet, she wouldn’t have rushed that moment for anything. It filled her with more confidence than a hundred compliments.

  The hunger drawing his features tight was all the assurance she needed to make her believe he wanted more than sex.

  No, this was going to be soul deep, just as it always had been.

  “Come to me, Bram…” Her voice was husky and welcoming. His lips twitched, flashing a smug grin at her before he crawled over her.

  “Yes, ma’am…”

  His breath teased her ear before he angled his face so that he could nip the delicate skin on her neck.

  She shuddered.

  He was letting her feel him settling on top of her. It was a blunt thing, the way she recognized that she was spreading her thighs wider so that his hips might nestle between them, feeling his hardness as her body accepted him.

  She clasped his arms, stroking up and along the corded muscles as his cock slipped between the wet folds of her sex.

  “Look at me, Jaelyn…”

  His tone was full of demand. He threaded his fingers into her hair and clasped it as she forced her eyelids up.

  The moment their gazes locked, he pushed into her. She watched his eyes fill with pleasure.

  Raw.

  And that was just the way she wanted him, too.

  She lifted her hips to ease his next thrust, noting the wet sound of their flesh meeting.

  Untamed …

  She didn’t want him tamed.

  And the way his features were drawn tight told her he didn’t want her civilized, either.

  They clashed and collided, and at the same time, moved together in perfect harmony. There was straining and surging and in the end, a hard-won victory that satisfied their cravings at last.

  She felt that moment approaching, felt his cock hardening even more. She clasped him to her, squeezing him tightly to her body as she lifted her hips and felt him grinding against her clit. The explosion was mind-shattering. He caught her cry with his hand, clamping it over her lips as he ground his teeth together and she felt him shudder through his release.

  * * *

  A squeal woke Jaelyn at daybreak. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Several letters were still lying next to her on the bed.

  “Vitus!” a woman exclaimed. “I have a list a mile long.”

  “I’ve got something really long, too…”

  Jaelyn opened the door to find Vitus Hale embracing a redheaded woman who was gorgeous. She was squirming against his hold.

  “Aw … great, you’re up,” the woman said.

  Vitus let out a huff. “She’s not the only one up.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my husband,” the woman said. “I’m Damascus and we have a hair appointment.”

  Vitus abandoned his playfulness. “Where?”

  “Relax,” Damascus said. “My mom brought her own personal hairdresser with her and her escort is going to be there. Bram’s daddy said I could invite Jaelyn.”

  “You heard her.” Ginger was coming through the back door of the house, her baby in her arms and Saxon hot on her tail with an identical frown to Vitus’s.

  The brothers shared a look before they nodded.

  Damascus let out a little sound of amused victory before turning and looking at Jaelyn.

  “All we need now is the bride.”

  * * *

  It was going to be a quiet event, but Jaelyn felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest.

  She was preened and the dress pressed. The doors of the church were open wide. A small event meant there was no organ music but Jaelyn decided the sound of the wind was fitting.

  Winds of change …

  “I married Jeanie on a weekday, too.” Her grandfather was there, in his Sunday best. He gave her a wink. “I was afraid to close my eyes in case she changed her mind.”

  “Grandma used to tell me you were lucky she made you marry her.”

  There was a scuffle and soft sound of conversations as Ginger and Damascus joined an older woman sitting in the pews.

  “My eyes must be getting old because I think I’ve seen that woman before.”

  “She’s Miranda Delacroix,” Jaelyn said but had to suck in a deep breath because she was so nervous. “She’s running for Congress.”

  “Well now,” Milton muttered as he took her hand and placed it on his arm. “VIPs.”

  Jaelyn was more conscious of the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Bram was looking her way, every inch the man she’d jumped on so recklessly.

  Damn right she was going to marry him.

  Milton started walking when she did, escorting her through the large double doors that opened into the sanctuary. Their steps were muted by the carpet covering the main aisle but someone was walking in the foyer.

  Jaely
n glanced back, hoping LeAnn wasn’t making an escape.

  There was only a man there. He had a sweatshirt on, crossing the open doorway. She missed a step, making her grandfather look at her. The frantic beating of her heart had her thoughts whirling but something was trying to break through.

  A warning …

  A … recognition.

  “That’s the guy from the hospital parking lot…” Jaelyn turned and looked behind her, feeling like she’d turned her back on a lion.

  Her voice bounced down the aisle, bringing immediate action. She heard people shifting behind her in the church but the man in front of her turned to look straight at her as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. There was something dark in his hand, about the size of a lemon. He pulled something from it before bringing his hand back and throwing it toward the altar.

  “Grenade!” someone yelled behind her.

  Her grandfather gave her a surprisingly hard shove that sent her stumbling. She ended up on one knee as an explosion ripped through the church.

  A wall of hot air hit her, throwing her backward, and then there was nothing but blackness.

  * * *

  Ricky cussed.

  He yanked his gun free and fired off a few rounds as he ducked behind the wall. There were narrow steps leading up to the loft that overlooked the sanctuary. He bounded up them, hitting his knees at the railing.

  Perfect.

  He could pick them off like rabbits.

  * * *

  Her ears were ringing.

  Jaelyn tasted dirt and crushed plaster in her mouth as she opened her eyes. A pile of debris was sitting on her chest, more of it falling like snow throughout the church. There was an ominous crackling sound as chunks of plaster broke loose and fell down.

  “Jaelyn … run!”

  She heard popping sounds. Not popping … gunfire.

  Bram was pinned behind the huge altar. Bullets were hitting it, their impact marked by little puffs of plaster.

  “Run now!”

  She rolled over, feeling like her limbs weren’t willing to obey her brain. The shorter length of the fifties-era dress was a lifesaver because she was able to get her feet under her.

  She was straining toward the entryway of the church. Digging deep for every last morsel of strength.

  “Let go!” Her grandfather was snarling.

 

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