by Avery Flynn
The temptation to tangle his fingers in her hair and slide his full length into her hot mouth nearly overwhelmed him. But if he did that there was no way he’d last long enough to bury himself inside her, let alone plunge in and out until she squeezed his dick with the power of her orgasm. Only then would he let himself go. He stepped back from her.
“Where are you going? I’m not done yet.” She leaned forward and engulfed his length, a hand cupping his balls with one finger extended to stroke the sensitive spot behind his balls.
Pleasure streaked up from the base of his spine and his thighs shook. He surged inside her mouth, her tongue caressing his cock as he moved forward. She hummed against him and he almost nutted on the next breath.
He clamped his jaw together nearly hard enough to crack a tooth and stepped back again. “Enough.”
“You don’t like?” The wicked upward turn of her delicious lips told him she knew full well just how much he did.
“I like it too much.” He pushed her down onto the sleeping bag. “But now it’s your turn.”
…
The slick nylon sleeping bag crinkled under Ryder’s back as Devin knelt next to her and slid her panties down her legs. Holding her ankles in his left hand so her feet pointed straight up at the stars peeking through the tent’s mesh window, he skimmed his lips down her legs. Setting an achingly slow pace, he licked, kissed, and nipped from her ankles to the back of her knee, setting fire to her skin.
He stroked the back of his fingers down the back of her thighs until his thumb rubbed against the center of her silk panties. “These have got to go.”
Ready to rip them in half herself so he would finally touch her aching core, she hooked her fingers into the waist band and, keeping her legs sky-bound, whipped them off. The cool island breeze tickled her damp curls as she spread her legs wide and rested her calves on Devin’s broad shoulders.
He growled his approval and traced two fingers around her wet folds. “So ready for me.”
Ryder’s nails dug into her palms, piercing the fog of desire surrounding her. “Please.”
His fingers circled her opening, making her shiver. “Not yet. I want to taste you.” He dropped his head between her thighs.
His hot mouth stopped millimeters from her clit, close enough that she could feel his breath on aching flesh. “Please.” She didn’t care if she was begging. She needed it. She needed what only he could give her.
“How could I say no to that?” He stroked her clit with his firm tongue before sucking the sensitive nub between his lips. Fire sizzled through her. His teasing fingers circled her wet opening as he continued his mouth’s soft assault.
Back arched, her entire body pleaded for more and she rubbed herself against his talented tongue. Answering her call, he increased the pressure. Needing to hold onto something solid so she wouldn’t slide off the face of the earth from the intensity of sensation, she twisted the sleeping bag in her hands.
He lifted his face from her center, his mouth wet with the evidence of her desire, and slowed the fingers stroking her opening until it seemed her pussy would implode with want.
Need reverberated through every cell. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m not stopping anytime soon.” He plunged two fingers into her, crossing and uncrossing them as he rubbed her inner walls. His knuckles brushed against her G-spot’s tangle of nerves and pleasure ricocheted around her body from the stretch of her arms to the yearning ache in her core.
The combination of pressure and his unhurried pace stole her ability to form words or to think, or to do anything but feel. She twisted her hips against his hand as the vibrations built in her thighs. The tremors in her legs deepened as the tightness in her pussy increased. Everything built higher and tighter, her entire body heaving with need.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he leaned down and lapped his tongue across her clit, sending her over into the abyss. A strangled moan escaped as her climax poured over her like molten lava. Aftershocks of pleasure reverberated through her as she tried to bring the world back into focus.
Devin raised himself so he lay with his cheek resting on her stomach. His thumbs pressed against her hips and he kissed her belly. “What do you want?”
“You inside me.” Need weakened her voice just as it strengthened her determination to have him here and now.
“Why?” He growled the question against the curve of her hip, his fingers anchoring her in place.
Afraid she was going to implode under the pressure of his lips and her lust, she pulled out of his grasp and retreated to the been-there-done-that cynicism that had served her so faithfully. “Because you’re a damn good lay. I’m not looking for anything more than a little friendly release.”
“Is that the only reason?” He quirked an eyebrow and rolled back up his heels, his hard cock heavy between his legs.
Yes. No. Maybe. “You want another one? I’m breaking enough rules already.” They were starting to pile up chin high. Was it just a week ago she’d been so set on having a full year of freedom from men and their issues?
He closed the inches between them, a reckless determination darkening his eyes. “I don’t think this is the first time you’ve broken a few rules.”
“True.” She trailed her fingers up the dragon tattoo on his arm, relishing the twitch of his muscles reacting to her touch and the quickening pace of the vein in his neck. “But you’re the one who’s making me break them.”
“That doesn’t change the question.” He lowered his head and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirled once and then twice around the hard tip before he released it. “Why?”
Why did she want him inside her so badly? “Because I want to feel something good.”
“I hate to break it to you, sugar.” He sank a finger between her slick folds and she gasped in his ear. “But I’m pretty fucking far from good.”
“Not from where I’m looking.” The truth of the statement sank in a moment before his mouth claimed hers. And that’s when she knew she was in big trouble.
…
Soft, wet, and hot, Ryder melted against Devin, making him harder than he thought possible. She gripped his fingers as he slid them in and out of her, he circled her entrance as she squirmed in his arms. She’d come only moments before and was ready again. His thumb found her clit, rubbing her and pushing against the side of it.
“How about this? Is this good?”
She mumbled something that sounded like, “Yes!” followed by, “Don’t fucking stop!”
He rubbed his stubbled cheek against her tits because he knew she liked that and licked the valley between them as the cool night breeze rushed over them. Taking her nipple into his hungry mouth, he teased her with his teeth. Scraping. Tugging. Making her call out his name in a tone that was both plea and promise. It was almost too much.
Almost.
“Got a condom?” he rasped. Refilling his wallet stash hadn’t been at the top of his mind since they’d landed.
“Fuck.” Ryder rested her head back against the sleeping bag. The frustrated look on her face would have been comical if he hadn’t been dealing with the same emotion right then.
“Take me in your hand,” he ordered.
Her firm grip encircled him and glided up and down his cock. The world went dark but he managed to continue stroking her and teasing her supple flesh. A flash of gold around her wrist pierced the blackness. Their blessing bracelet. He jiggled his arm so his matching gold rope rolled down to the base of his thumb, then angled his wrist so the bracelet pressed against her sensitive clit.
A soft moan escaped her. “Devin.” She bit her bottom lip, sucking it into her hot mouth. “I’m so close.”
“Don’t worry, sugar, I’m not going anywhere.” He added a second finger inside her, rubbing and tapping her G-spot in an unhurried rhythm.
“More. Harder.”
Eager to watch her come apart, he followed directio
n, ignoring the electric sensations tightening his balls. Moaning in appreciation, she rocked against his hand, riding him. He took a nipple in his mouth, pulling at it while increasing the rhythm against her clit. She cried his name as her walls tightened around his fingers. Her body arched and shook.
At length, her eyes flicked open and a lazy grin curled her mouth. She continued to stroke him, increasing the pressure and pace with each pass. “Come for me, Devin.”
The buzzing in his balls reached a fevered pitch and they pulled close to the base of his cock. His hand covered hers and he tried to aim away from her, but she kept his dick pointed straight at her tits. “Ryder, I’m going to—”
“I know.” She twisted her wrist on the downward stroke. “Come. For. Me.”
Unable to deny her order, he surrendered to the vibrations building in his balls. The sensation intensified, stoking his pulse until the orgasm spurted from him all over her perfect tits.
Chest heaving, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his, claiming her—and that’s exactly what this was. She was his now, whether she realized it or not.
Chapter Thirteen
“Fashion is never in crisis because clothes are always necessary.”
— Achille Maramotti
Ryder’s eyes snapped open as the sound of a gong reverberated against her skull. Her phone vibrated just out of reach, notifying her of a text and then going silent.
Sated down to the depths of her soul, she considered ignoring the message. Devin snored beside her, oblivious to the noise. His brightly tattooed arm encircled her waist, holding her close. A rock was trying to fuse itself to her shoulder blade, or at least that’s what it felt like, but it had been there most of the night. Early morning light illuminated the tent’s interior, falling on her panties that had landed near the zipped closed front flap and Devin’s boxers still tangled inside his pants on the floor.
The gong sounded again.
“You gonna get that?” Devin’s voice, thick with sleep, brushed against her hair.
If she did, it meant she’d be letting the rest of the world into their tent haven. She’d have to leave his embrace and get dressed. They’d have to go find Sarah Molina and the money. Then they’d jet off the island and return home to Harbor City where they’d go their separate ways.
Which is exactly what she wanted.
So why was she ignoring her stupid phone as it gonged a third time?
“If you don’t answer it, they’ll just keep calling.” He punctuated his words with a kiss to the curve of her neck.
“God, I hate it when you’re right.” She swiped her phone off the floor and glanced at the screen. The clock read five-twenty-eight as she tapped the text message icon.
Carlos: SM’s GPS went on this morning. She’s on the move heading toward AC. Bonus, I intercepted a text she sent. All it said was: eight Earl Gray. That mean anything to you?
Earl Gray. The name sparked something in Ryder’s brain, but not enough. Closing her eyes, she blocked out the tent, Devin’s warm body so close to her, and the lingering citrusy hint of his cologne. Her eyes snapped open. That’s it. Smell. Tea Time smelled just like a freshly brewed pot of Earl Gray tea. Eight had to be eight o’clock.
She rolled over and grabbed Devin’s face between her hands. “We’ve got her.”
The contact sent a frisson of awareness skittering up her arm and she shivered. The shimmy drew his attention. His pupils dilated and his gaze locked on her mouth. She meant the kiss to be celebratory, but all it took was the touch of his lips to hers for the world to go off kilter again. Desire as strong as a lifelong hunger roared to the forefront and she wrapped her legs around his bare hips and twisted, flipping him onto his back. Holding his arms above his head, she kissed her way down his neck and sucked on his collarbone.
“Damn, you taste good first thing in the morning.” She licked along the bright purple curve of the tribal tattoo on his right pec. Her hand slithered down between their bodies to grasp his hard-on. “I could eat you right up—if there was time.”
“I just knew there had to be a catch.”
“Always.” She gave him a hard, quick kiss as the day’s details worked themselves out in her head. “You know it’s probably a trap.”
“She hasn’t exactly been trying to cover her tracks.”
“True.” Ryder weighed the options. Follow the coordinates and risk walking into a worse shit storm than they were in already? It sure as hell sounded like suicide. Then again, Sarah had a gift for hiding right out in the open, so there was no guarantee they’d get this close again before the merger deadline. “Sarah’s smart and she’s been onto us from the get-go, but it’s our best worst chance.”
Working alone, Ryder had a slim chance of success. Her gaze slid over to the half-naked man beside her. But together? If it was a trap, she had to make sure Devin made it out with enough time to call in her brother and the cavalry.
They had the where and the when. If they kept it simple—and didn’t get themselves killed—Sarah could fall right in their laps. They’d have her on the jet with the wheels up before her thugs even realized what had happened.
“You have good instincts, I trust you.” Devin tucked a hair behind her ear. “You should, too.”
Bounding up from his warmth before she got lost in him again, she slipped on her panties, washed her chest, and tossed Devin his clothes. “Get a move on, stud. I’ve got a plan.”
…
Ryder stifled a yawn as the early morning sunrays broke over the single-story roofs of Andol City’s downtown, and did her best to ignore the funky scent emanating from the nearby overflowing trash barrels. While she was at it, she kept her gaze averted from the man with smoke pouring from his ears beside her. Let him stew, her plan was solid. All he had to do was follow her lead and they’d be golden.
Devin crossed his arms as the Jeep’s engine idled in an alley just off the central square. “I don’t like this. I should be by your side.”
“Which you’ve made abundantly clear.” She opened the passenger door, ready to hop down to the fast-warming asphalt. “But there are only two entry points for Tea Time. She’s either going in the front or hitting it from the back door, which we can’t see from this standpoint.”
“I don’t want you out of my sight.” His aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he couldn’t cover up the vein throbbing in his temple.
Saints preserve her from overprotective men. “Can the he-man bullshit. I’m a professional.”
“It all changed last night.” He kept his profile to her, but reached out to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Things are different now.”
“Not my ability to do my job.” His concern flattered and annoyed her even as the simple act of holding hands left her aching for more of him. And wasn’t that complication just par for the course when it came to this man? “Trust me. The plan will work.”
“What if Sarah doesn’t show?”
“She’ll be there.” She had to be, otherwise their chances of success within the designated time frame went from slim to microscopic. Not something Ryder wanted to think about. “See you soon.”
Abandoning the Jeep and the pissed off man behind the wheel, she loped down the alley toward a six-foot-high concrete pineapple in front of a jewelry store. Without slowing her pace, she scrambled up to the statue’s pointy top and leaped from it to the building’s roof. Setting up in the shadow of a rooftop air conditioner, she hunkered down for what she hoped would be a short wait. From her perch, she had an unobstructed view of Tea Time’s back door and the police headquarters—for all the good proximity to Andol City’s version of law and order would do them. Shit, with the crooked cops sitting inside, having them so close would probably do more to hurt them.
She glanced at her watch. Half past seven. If everything was going according to schedule, Devin had ditched the hot pink Jeep in a municipal lot by now and was on his way up the wooden staircase to the rooftop garden on top of the sidewalk caf�
� across from Tea Time. She craned her neck and scanned the shadows surrounding the café’s potted palms and brightly colored hanging plants, but came up empty. Then an early morning sun ray hit a reflective surface, making it look as though the shadows were winking.
Devin’s aviators. Had to be.
Everything was in place—everything except Sarah Molina. As the minutes ticked by, tourists on mopeds and locals in compact cars and four-wheel drives cruised down Main Street. The bakery down the street turned over its open sign and employees filtered into other businesses surrounding the tea shop.
Ryder chewed the inside of her check, trying to burn off the fidgety energy coursing through her. Seven fifty-eight. From the information she’d gathered, Sarah Molina had lived her life at Dylan’s Department Store like a drill sergeant. If you weren’t early, you were late, according to the domineering executive assistant. But she chose now to break her own rule? Odd didn’t begin to cover the creepy-crawly feeling dancing up Ryder’s spine.
When eight o’clock rolled around, most of the businesses lining Main Street had opened, but the tea shop stayed dark and no one approached the building.
Her stomach folded in on itself as she searched the streets for any sign of Sarah or a mysterious buyer. This couldn’t be happening.
Eight-fifteen.
She’d missed something, Ryder felt it in her bones. What it was, she had no fucking clue.
She searched the area for the reflection from Devin’s sunglasses and came up empty.
Her mind spinning through the possibilities, she loped to the alley side of the building and scurried down the drainpipe. Halfway down, her thumb snagged on a metal brace securing the pipe to the turquoise-painted cement wall. Pain shot up her arm and she lost her grasp on the metal. She dropped the final few feet to the ground. Her thumb throbbed and there was a slice of skin missing, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. Just like the other bazillion scrapes and bruises from yesterday’s fight. She sucked on the side of her thumb, the metallic flavor of her blood tasting a lot like defeat.