by Alexa Riley
A burst of pleasure runs up and down my arms and legs, and I cry out Oz’s name.
“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of hearing you scream my name,” Oz says next to my ear, and I smile. He must have crawled back up my body while I was recovering.
He unties his board shorts and frees his thick cock. In one swift motion, he’s fully seated inside me and I’m too spent to move. My legs lie open, and my arms are spread above my head as he thrusts in and out of me.
His lips find mine, and the flavor of my desire passes to me. He bites my bottom lip, and all I can do in response is moan. I’m boneless, yet somehow, I’m building to another orgasm.
Oz’s hands pin down my wrists, but the move is unnecessary. There’s no way I’m moving, and no way I’m fighting against him. His powerful body thrusting on top of mine is the only thing I need to keep me in place.
“Oz,” I moan, and he leans down, taking one of my hard nipples in his mouth. The little bite of pain is exactly what I need to send me over the edge, and he knows it.
Tensing up, I try to arch my back, but his hips keep me in place. I pull against the tight hold of his hands, but the grip is solid. My body fights against the new pleasure, but as always, Oz wins. I give over to his demands, and I skyrocket into a million fragments of sparkling light that I see around us when I open my eyes.
“So beautiful,” I hear him say as he thrusts a final time and finds his ending inside my body.
He rolls us over so that I’m on top of him, my head cradled against his chest. His warm amber and honey scent embraces me as I breathe him in. It’s the scent of home and safety, and also of love. His strong arms stroke my back as we listen to the waves crash.
I don’t know how long we lie there, with the warm breeze blanketing us and the rhythm of his heartbeat soothing me. But after some time, Oz rolls me over and begins to love my body all over again.
“The first time I saw you, I thought I’d woken up in the land of Oz,” he says, trailing kisses down my wrist. “It was like seeing color for the first time.”
“I always liked picturing you as the wizard who saved me.” I smile up at him, pressing my palm to his stubble.
“Oh no, Mallory. Don’t you remember? She’s the one who saved the wizard.” He pauses, smiling back at me so big I can see his dimples.
“Anything for you, Miles.”
“And everything for you, baby.”
* * * * *
BONUS MATERIAL:
First time Miles and Mallory meet
* * *
“Paige’s not even responding to my text messages,” I tell Ryan as I get out of the car. He shrugs as if to say what else is new? He looks down both sides of the street before motioning to one of his guys. Paige has been giving me resistance for the past few months, and now that she’s actually here in the city, I feel like she’s stonewalling me.
Ryan may shrug, but I can see the tension in his body. I chalk it up to us making an unplanned stop somewhere that he hasn’t scoped out in advance. Normally he’d have fought me on something like this, but he’s grown to realize that when it comes to her, there is no stopping me. I should be stopping myself, but I can’t seem to keep my feet from closing the distance to the front of the club. I tell myself I’m only going to have a look, make sure she’s okay. It’s something I could easily ask my security to do, but now she’s too close. Too easy for me to get to. It’s as if I can’t fight my own body.
Ryan motions to the bouncer, who lifts the rope as we bypass the line. The club is crammed full of people, the music pumping, but as if I’m drawn to her, can feel her, my eyes go right to where she’s standing next to the bar and everything else in the club fades away. I’m once again moving, pushing myself through the crowd toward her.
I should stop, I really should. This isn’t part of the plan, but I’ve waited so long, wanted for so long. I need a taste. Maybe it will cool all the emotions pumping through my body.
I watch Mallory’s eyes move across the room and find myself following them to where Paige is standing. Ryan looms over Paige, most likely giving her an earful. Maybe he can talk some sense into her. Unlikely.
I look back at her and see that Mallory has her head tilted back, eyes closed as if listening to the music and feeling the beat. I stalk over to where she is, moving in behind her, wanting a smell. I lean in and inhale her scent, her sweetness filling my lungs.
The bartender glances over at me, and I take a step back, knowing I’ve been caught. Before he places her drink in front of her, I reach into my back pocket, grab my credit card and hand it over.
She turns slightly, looking over at me, and her eyes travel up my body until they land on my face. I smile at her, wanting to mask the other things I’m feeling right now. The things running through my mind. That she’s mine. That soon I will know every part of her. Not what I read in my daily reports. Reports I haven’t been getting lately. Likely part of the reason I’ve snapped and I’m breaking all those plans I’ve been making for us.
“You didn’t ask,” she says as the bartender brings my card over and hands it to me. I slip it back into my pocket.
“What would you have said?” I tease her as I sign the receipt and push it toward the bartender.
She examines me, running her eyes over my suit. This time she wants me to know what she’s doing. Her eyes make my cock impossibly harder. It’s been hard since I knew her little ass landed in New York. I can’t help but run my eyes over her, too, enjoying what’s finally in front of me.
She’s got on tight black pants that mold to her curves, and heels that don’t hold up against my height. I wonder if she likes what she sees as her eyes run over me. It’s something I’ve never wondered before. Normally I don’t care what others think of me, but with her I do.
“So?” I ask, finding myself closing the distance between us a little more, wanting her answer. Needing it.
“Definitely not,” she says, smiling, before taking a sip of her whiskey, her full lips hitting the rim of the glass. I instantly become jealous of it. I want her lips on me. I want to know what they taste like. I’ve been wondering for years.
I both hate and love her words. I want her to want me, but I like that she doesn’t easily give in. I can’t help but laugh.
Her light eyes stare at me over the tumbler, and I find myself smiling at her again.
“Good thing I didn’t ask,” I tell her. I don’t typically ask for anything. Ever. I take and tell. She moves in a little toward me, and I’m not even sure if she knows she’s doing it. Her sweet scent hits me, and I ache to have more. I can’t wait for that smell to coat me, my sheets and everything else I can get it on.
Patience, I remind myself. With great effort and restraint, I reach for her tumbler instead of her. I turn the glass to put my lips where hers were. I’ll take whatever I can get tonight, and if this is all I can get, I’ll still count it as a win.
I take a sip and am disappointed I can only taste the whiskey, but I watch as her eyes light up with a flash of desire.
“I thought since I paid for it, I should at least get a taste.” I smirk, turning the glass back to where I’d placed my mouth, and hand it to her. She takes a sip again from the same spot, and I have to fight a groan. She’s playing with me. The sweet burn I feel isn’t from the whiskey.
“Tell me your name.” I move in a little closer, pushing her for more.
She eyes me like an inner battle is going on inside her.
“Let’s not, shall we?” she says before turning back to the bar. She looks up and down, probably looking for the bartender. I want her eyes back on me. Finally, she turns a little. “Let’s pretend this is the Emerald City and you’re the wizard behind the curtain.”
I can’t stop from reaching out and touching her. Grabbing her full hip, letting my fingers sink into her, loo
king into her eyes. I don’t like her pulling away from me. Not even a little. It burns deep. I’ve wanted this for so long.
“Please,” I say as she stares up at me. A word I’m not used to saying.
She takes a step toward me, my fingers sink more into her hip in a possessive hold. “Mallory,” she says. Then I watch as pink hits her cheeks. Her eyes move past me, and I follow them once again to Paige, who’s still with Ryan. She taps her watch at Mallory, making me clench my jaw because I know what’s coming. She’s leaving. First I didn’t want her in this place, and now I don’t want her to leave. I want a little more, but I remind myself this is only the beginning.
“Are you leaving?”
She looks back up at me and gives me a disappointed smile. “It appears so.”
“Give me your number,” I say in a rush. I already have it. Hell, I have fucking tracking on her phone, but I want the go-ahead from her to finally text her.
She looks around hesitantly, like she’s trying to come up with a good excuse why she shouldn’t.
“If I ask your friend over there, will she give it to me?” I test her, wanting to know what she’d say. I know Paige made sure men didn’t bother her, but for some reason I find myself wanting to test it. To know for sure.
She glances over at Paige and back to me with a smug smile on her perfect face, her little button nose scrunching a little. God, she’s fucking perfect. “Not a chance.”
I reach into my pocket, pulling my phone out anyway. I’m getting her number before I walk out of here. I have to have it now. There’s no way I can go another day without talking to her. Or at least knowing that I can.
She lets out a cute little huff, before rattling off her number as I pretend to put it into my phone. Paige comes up next to us as I put it away. She looks between the two of us before dismissing me like she doesn’t know who I am.
“You ready?” she says.
“Yeah. I’m right behind you,” Mallory tells her, and Paige walks toward the entrance. Mallory turns to me, and I reach out, needing to touch her one more time tonight, because I’m not sure when I’ll get to again. I run the edge of my knuckles along her jaw. I never knew skin could feel so soft. I’d bet everything I have that all of her feels this way.
“I wanted more,” I whisper to myself.
Mallory stands there, staring up at me like she can’t pull herself away either, and I wonder if she feels it, too. What I felt the first time I laid eyes on her. That I’d found what I’d been looking for my whole life. Something I didn’t even know I was looking for to begin with.
“She’s waiting,” I finally say, nodding toward Paige, who’s got one shoulder propped against the wall watching us, her eyes narrowed on me.
I reluctantly drop my hand and take a step back. I have to make myself, or I’ll never let her go. Slow, I remind myself. We’ll have her soon. I force a smile as I watch her turn and disappear.
I pull out my phone and text Ryan.
Me: Follow them home.
Ryan: Already on it.
When I slide into the back of my car, I can’t stop myself from texting her.
Me: You tasted sweeter than I ever imagined.
* * *
It feels like forever before she finally texts me back, but in reality it was only a second.
Mine: What do I call the man behind the curtain?
I feel myself smile.
OZ.
Can’t get enough Alexa Riley?
Keep reading for a sneak peek of
HIS ALONE,
available March 28, 2017 from Carina Press
Prologue
Ryan
Six years ago...
I sit in the metal chair feeling uncomfortable. I do better on my feet. I wish I could at least have my back to a wall, but this isn’t my place, so I do as I’m told. I sit calmly and keep my breathing even, glancing around the room casually, making sure I show nothing. I have one goal here today and it’s to get as close as possible to the man I’m about to meet. Going deeper underground than I ever have before—something I’m not sure I want. This might take me a further down than I’m prepared to go.
We’re in a back room of a restaurant in uptown Manhattan, and it’s clearly used for privacy. There are two men at the far wall, standing next to an exit, and two men behind me guarding the way I came in. They both look like muscle; they’d be easy to handle. Too dumb to see what’s coming. Directly in front of me is a small metal table and chair. I hear a click behind me. The door opens, and someone walks through. I wish for the hundredth time that I had my gun on me. I feel naked without it. I know I can defend myself without it, but I like feeling the weight of it against me. And often, someone seeing the hint of it can deescalate a situation. But they took it from me when I walked through the door, so now I have to deal with it.
The man who walked in takes a seat at the table and leans forward. He’s in an expensive suit that looks custom-made. The men around him are dressed similarly, myself included. When you’re in this line of work, looks are everything. Even more so for a man like this. Money means everything to him. Money and power.
He sets a large manila envelope on the table between us and places his hand on top of it. He holds it there as he looks at me, his sapphire-blue eyes boring into mine as if trying to read me. Good luck, asshole.
“I’ve been told good things about you, Ryan. That you’re one to keep cool and one we can trust. Is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
The first rule in business is keeping your mouth shut. The second rule is when you talk, say as little as possible. I’ve mastered both of these, and it’s the reason I’m here today.
“You’ve worked for me for some time now, and I’d like to give you something of a—” He stops as if to consider what word to use. His smile is wide as he lands on it. “—promotion.”
I sit and wait, breathing evenly and staying calm. It’s what I do best. I’m rewarded when he takes his hand off the envelope and pushes it toward me, then leans back in his chair, watching my movements. I don’t flinch, just wait for instructions like a loyal dog.
“I need information, and I need you to get it for me. You’re a face that’s not known around here, not associated with me directly. According to what I’ve been able to dig up, you were born in Ukraine and brought to America as a baby. You were raised in Chicago, but ended up in New York a few years ago and made your way into my employment. Is that close enough?”
“Yes, sir.” Rule number three, always speak with respect. It’s close but not all of it. Just the parts I want him to know. The most important thing to remember about lying is to keep your lies as close to the truth as possible, only blurring some things. That way, you never forget.
He looks me over again, eyes assessing and reassessing. I relax and wait like he wants me to. Just like I know I need to in order to get on his good side. As if getting what he wants, he nods down to the envelope, and I finally reach out, taking it. I hold it in my hands but don’t make a move to open it. I know him. He wants people to follow his every word, and if he wants me to open it, he’ll tell me.
“Once this meeting is over, we won’t meet face-to-face again. You’ll have my direct number and communicate with me weekly, giving me any information you can. All that you need to know is in there.”
He stands, buttoning his suit jacket, and I stand with him, holding the envelope. He stretches out his hand, and as much as I don’t want to take it, I remember rule number three. When he grips my palm, he pulls me forward a slight inch, but it’s a power play. He wants to be the one in control, and though I’m much larger than him and far more skilled at killing a man, I allow him this move. Men like him need to keep the ego. It’s all they have.
“I think you’re going to be exactly right for this job, Ryan. You look like a Bo
y Scout.”
His evil grin makes my stomach clench as he releases my hand. He walks out of the room, and three of the bodyguards follow him. The fourth stops and hands me my gun, and I tuck it back into my holster as I watch him leave. Once I’m alone, I clutch the envelope and walk out the back exit. I walk two blocks up to a park and look for an empty bench. When I sit down, I open the envelope and flip through the contents.
The first few pages are exactly what I expected. There are instructions to get as much information as possible on one particular person. There are pictures of locations, property, known assets and people of interest. I know who this is. It’s his estranged son, Miles Osbourne. Everyone knows of the rift. But no one knows why. It was so bad Miles even changed his name back to his mother’s maiden name, Osbourne. That had to really piss off a man like Alexander Owens. I’m guessing the rift is because Miles knows all about his dear old dad and wants nothing to do with him, but it doesn’t look like Alexander feels the same. He wants Miles as close as possible, and he’s going to use me to get that.
The last piece of paper contains one sentence. The words make a chill run down my spine, and I stare at them for a long moment. There’s an accompanying photo stapled to the page.
If she shows up, you alert me immediately.
The police suspect Alexander has had a hand in the deaths of three women, and I wonder if this one is another of his mistresses. Flipping the note over, I see the picture and my chest tightens as my breath catches. I reach out, touching the photo with the tip of my index finger. It’s a little blurry and taken from the side, but there’s no mistaking the beauty of the redhead in the photograph. Something about her touches a place inside me, and all my plans change. My blood pumps through my veins and I can feel my adrenaline rising. I will do what I need to do to make this plan work, but there’s no way I’m handing this girl over to him. I look at the picture and I see it. This isn’t a mistress. The same blue eyes I was staring at across the table look at me from the photo. I pull out the photo of Miles. There it is. She’s his daughter, and I’m guessing she has all kinds of little secrets on her father. Ones he doesn’t want anyone to know.