Stranded (Boys Behaving Badly Book 4)

by Delilah Devlin

  She looked at Sekou.

  “Why do you believe him?” he whispered.

  “Because it’s true. I’ll never submit to him or let anyone be stranded as I was.”

  A feeling swelled inside Sekou. He touched her hand and hoped the courage moving inside him might move in her. “We can change that ending,” he said, his heart thudding in his chest.

  Aziza frowned. “How?”

  He cupped her cheek. “Let me make love to you.”

  She pulled away, horrified. “I couldn’t. Just these few moments of freedom…” She closed her eyes. “I couldn’t live knowing I’d stranded you within the pages of that book.”

  He touched her cheek and offered her a half-smile. “I’d happily live in a book if I could free you.” And he knew his words to be true. He’d sacrifice himself for her, although they’d just met.

  She shook her head. “What if Morlu lied and making love doesn’t free me but kills you?”

  “I’m willing to risk it.” Sekou pulled her hand to his chest, resting it over his rapidly beating heart. “What he has written can’t be the final version of your story. After all, he didn’t write me or our meeting into those pages, did he?”

  Aziza’s expression became thoughtful. “That’s true.” The gleam of fear in her eyes lessened. “Maybe we can make the story come out as we wish.”

  The corners of his lips curved. “Now, that’s the Aziza who kept me reading that story.”

  Sekou smiled as she smiled, laughed as she laughed. He placed his hand around her waist and lowered them onto the bed. First, him on top then her. The welcoming warmth between her legs invited him deep, held him secure. He swelled and pulsed and throbbed within her as the willing push-me-pull-you of giving and receiving became his world.

  She rocked and clenched and tightened around him until their cries testified not only to the union of their bodies, but their spirits, too. He cradled her head and crushed her mouth, until her moans, her delight, her shouts of ecstasy became his.

  Climax drew him up, up, and away from the earthly realm. This was true wealth. The wealth his mother and father shared. The wealth of love. Nothing inside the swag sack compared to the treasure of this moment.

  He shouted her name and exploded inside her, glad that, if he died, he died while she loved him.

  Aziza awoke to find Sekou smiling at her. The wondrous odor of their lovemaking graced the air. She inhaled, memorizing the musk that was him as it combined with the fragrance that was her.

  “I love the smell of us,” he said and buried his nose in the hollow at the base of her throat.

  She traced a finger along the bridge of his nose. “And what smell is that?”

  “Honeyed defiance,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  She pressed herself against him, afraid of the thoughts now attacking her as the warmth of the sun invaded the room.

  “Still afraid of what will happen at dawn?” Sekou asked.

  “I’m sorry, but yes.”

  He kissed her. The soft hum of his lips against hers soothed her fears.

  He nodded toward the window. “Listen.”

  Birdsong filtered into the room. Aziza’s throat still tightened with apprehension as sunlight commanded every surface of the room.

  “Don’t you see? We’ve won, Aziza.” He rolled out of bed, retrieved the book, then returned and placed it on her lap. “Your defiance and my rascality have defeated Morlu.”

  Aziza ached with the need to believe him. “How can we be sure?”

  He tapped the book’s cover. “See if anything has changed.”

  Her heart seized at the confident gleam in his eye. If he could believe, she could, too. She turned to the final chapter. Her hand trembled when she reached the last page.

  “The pronouncement is gone.” She blenched. “The entire page is gone.”

  Sekou laughed. “Like you, I have never bowed to anyone else’s conventions. I skip to the ends of books and read the last chapters first. The conclusion of yours angered me so that I tore it out and ripped the page to shreds. Morlu’s ending no longer exists.”

  Aziza placed a hand at the small of her back. “Earlier, I experienced a burning pain.” She blinked. “That must have been you destroying the page.”

  Sekou tossed the book on top of his swag sack then cupped her face. “That was me deciding your story deserved a new ending…a better ending. One far away from this village and its fears, from Morlu and his evil.” He took her on top of him. “One where I’m glad I’m yours.”

  “And one,” she said, “where I am glad I’m yours, too.”

  She stroked him hard then took him inside her, warmed by morning sunlight and mutual bliss. She would gladly put their story in a book, not to be hidden from Black folk, or any folk, but for all folk to discover and enjoy.

  A Stranger’s Kiss

  By A.C. Dawn

  My feet pounded the concourse as I rushed to catch my flight. It was the last one to Atlanta that day. If I missed it, I’d be stranded for the night. Oh God, I just wanted to go home. I forced my legs to keep going and tried in vain to get enough air into my burning lungs. I really needed to work on my cardio. Digging deep, I managed a final burst of speed when my gate came into view.

  The gate agent looked up and said something into the radio when she saw me pelting toward her. I skidded to a stop and thrust my boarding pass at her. As she scanned it, I sucked in a couple of breaths and tried to get control of my pounding heart. At the agent’s nod, I started down the gangway, thanking my lucky stars that I’d chosen to spoil myself with a first-class upgrade. At least I wouldn’t have to walk through the entire plane of people who’d been waiting for me.

  I found my row and glanced at the man who occupied the aisle seat. A dark gaze met mine as he offered me a heart-stopping smile that I tried valiantly to return. It seemed I just couldn’t win. The one time I get to sit next to a hot guy on a flight I arrive out of breath, red-faced, and sweating—awesome first impression. I couldn’t help but notice his nicely sculpted body as he stood to let me slide into my window seat. I felt less than graceful as I collapsed on the cushions and kicked my backpack under the seat in front of me.

  “Take a couple of deep breaths. You made it.”

  I glanced, surprised at the man to my right. Not only was he hot, he might even be a nice guy. Fate really was a bitch. I gave him a wan smile and dug out my earbuds. I wasn’t up to flirting or even polite conversation. The writing conference I had hoped would translate into a few new clients had been a complete bust. My writing career seemed to be dying a slow agonizing death. I was going to have to return to tutoring students if I couldn’t get it back on track—and fast. I felt like it was all just slipping away, but I didn’t have any fight left in me now. So, I closed my eyes and assumed the universal “don’t bother me” airplane posture of earbuds inserted and eyes closed, hoping Mr. Hotness would take the hint.

  The flight attendants dimmed the cabin lights, and silence soon reigned among the weary travelers. We were about an hour into the flight when I couldn’t sit still any longer. Despite my best efforts, I hadn’t slept.

  With a resigned sigh, I pulled out my laptop from my bag and clicked it on. Mr. Hotness seemed to be dozing like everyone else around me. I couldn’t help but indulge in a quick ogle of his handsome face and brawny shoulders. Then I forced my gaze to focus back to the screen and willed my mind to concentrate. I might as well get a little work done. The revision my editor had sent to me wouldn’t write itself.

  I read the section over and over, wondering what it needed. It didn’t pop. It didn’t make me squirm in my seat like a steamy erotic scene should. Colin, my hero, was supposed to be an alpha male, but he just wasn’t coming to life. I frowned and started to delete a section when the man next to me covered my hand with his.

  I gasped and almost jumped out of my skin. I tried to jerk my hand away, but he gripped it tightly. My heart pounded, and I filled my lungs to call for help when he
whispered, “Leave it. That section is the best bit.”

  I realized he was focused on my screen in blatant disregard of the unwritten airplane code of not reading what your seat mate was working on. No longer afraid, but more than a little pissed, I pulled my hand from under from his. This time he let me go, and I started to close the laptop.

  “He needs to have an edge. He’s too mellow,” Mr. Hotness said, nodding at the computer and keeping his voice at a whisper.

  “Don’t you know it’s rude to read other people’s work,” I whispered and felt my cheeks burning as I realized he’d been sitting next to me, reading a very explicit passage. His comment made me want to scream in frustration. He’d echoed exactly what my editor had said in her last revision. Sex scenes are lacking male aspect. Please revise.

  I knew it for the truth. I’d been off my game ever since Dilan had left and taken my mojo with him. I couldn’t seem to pick up the pieces of my heart and move on. Our parting had undermined my confidence, and it was sapping the life out of me and my characters. I ground my teeth together as I pushed away the unwelcome emotions. If the man sitting next to me noticed anything, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he leaned toward me and spoke close to my ear, “Do you want to know what I would do?”

  I froze as a jolt of excitement lanced through me, followed quickly by a pang of anxiety. I turned and met his gaze. My stomach turned over as his deep chocolate eyes held my gaze with an intensity that sent a flash of heat straight to my core. Another wave of excitement rushed up, quelling the voice of reason that had begun a litany of reasons why I should end this before it even got started.

  I licked my lips and raised a brow. “What would you do?” My words came out breathy and excited, and I cringed inwardly thinking I sounded like an overeager school girl.

  In answer, he pulled the computer into his lap. His fingers danced across the keys. I took the opportunity to study him for a moment. His strong jaw bore far more than a five o’clock shadow and gave him a slightly scruffy appearance that was at odds with his designer-label clothing. His broad shoulders spanned beyond the borders of his seat and boasted strength and definition beneath his shirt. As his large fingers tapped on the keys, I found myself fixated on how he moved his large hands so gracefully across the keyboard. Of course, that led me to wonder how those hands would feel moving across my skin.

  I shifted in my seat and told myself to relax. He was just having a bit of a flirt to help pass the time. I barely kept myself from eagerly snatching the computer from him when he offered it back to me. I scanned the paragraph.

  Colin pinned her with his gaze and felt his body stir when Ilsa dropped the defiant set of her shoulders. He knew she would yield to him. He stood and closed the distance between them. Ilsa’s chin came back up, and Colin smiled. He loved her fire and longed to feel her burn beneath him. He said nothing as his fingers lightly tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and traced a path to her tightly buttoned collar. He held her gaze as he worked the top button free and then the next. The creamy skin of her neck begged to be tasted, but he kept himself in check. He would savor every touch, every taste of her.

  Wow. Well, that wasn’t where I’d intended this to go, but I had to admit it dripped alpha male. I bit my lip and wondered about the man next to me. If I were a betting girl, I’d wager he was a strong, alpha kind of guy—even with his bedroom-brown eyes. Before I could overthink it, I forced myself to forget the scene I’d written. My imagination conjured the scene as he had described it, and I began to type.

  Ilsa’s skin prickled with excitement. Colin’s gaze bored into hers with the promise of passion and pleasure. She stood frozen as he opened another button of her blouse, exposing her breasts and sensible white bra. She focused on keeping her breathing slow and regular, but her heart had a mind of its own and beat wildly in her chest. Once he worked the last button free, Colin circled behind her and pulled the blouse from her shoulders, slowly, inching it down her arms. He pulled it free of her hands and neatly laid it over the back of a chair. Then he roamed his hands over her bare skin, leaving tingling trails on her arms and shoulders. Her nipples puckered tightly and begged to be free of their confines. She fought against the desire to press herself to him, to mold her body to his and feel his skin burning against her own. She would not lose herself to this man.

  The man next to me let out a long low sigh and reached to pull the computer back to him. His leg pressed against mine, but neither of us moved to reestablish the typical airplane boundaries. He’d been reading while I’d typed, and his fingers again moved swiftly over the keys.

  Colin worked steadily against her defenses. Her skin slid beneath his hands like the smoothest silk. He couldn’t hold back a low moan of satisfaction when her breasts swung free, and she was finally bare to him. From behind her, he cupped each full breast and teased her nipples. They had taunted him so many times through layers of fabric. Her body betrayed her, arching into his touch as she gasped. He wanted to linger there, but there were still more barriers to breach, walls of defenses to conquer. He slowly worked her skirt down over her hips and let it fall around her ankles, covering her sensible black flats. Pleasantly surprised to find sexy black lace panties, he left them on and moved back to his chair. Colin drank in her luscious curves, the proud jut of her chin, and the war between attraction and propriety that played out on her gorgeous features. He waited and watched. Ilsa must come to him.

  He put the laptop on my tray table and caught my hand as I reached for the keys. I closed my eyes as he traced his fingers up and down my inner arm. Goosebumps broke out all over me as my heart ricocheted around in my chest while my imagination ran wild with thoughts of being stripped naked by him. At last, I moved my shaking hands to the keyboard.

  Ilsa felt her control eroding like a sandcastle being slowly washed away by the ocean. Her body hummed with desire and heat as Colin sat looking at her. She should have been uncomfortable under such scrutiny, but his eyes shone only with lust and passion. A throbbing ache beat deep inside her. She wanted his hands on her body. She wanted his skin sliding against hers. She stood bare in front of him, burning with longing. He smiled at her, and the last vestiges of her control evaporated. Swamped with a sudden desperation to feel his touch, Ilsa straddled his lap and brought her hungry mouth to his.

  I barely even finished, and his fingers were on the keyboard, leaning across me. His shoulder pressed into mine as he crowded into my seat, typing rapidly. I felt the heat of his body, and with no place better to put my hand, let it drift to the leg he pressed even more firmly against mine. When the tap of the keys fell silent, he shifted slightly in his seat, turning himself toward me and blocking the view of anyone across the aisle with his back. His gaze fixed on me as I read what he’d written.

  Colin savored her demanding kisses and enjoyed the feel of her rounded ass in his hands. He pulled her down to grind against his hard cock. Her moan made him want to bury himself inside her and drive her insane with pleasure until all she could do was moan his name over and over. He pushed her gently back and stood, letting her slide off his lap to the floor. He smiled down at her as she looked up at him with eyes that burned brightly with desire. He stepped away from her and slowly unbuttoned his shirt and draped it with hers over the chair. Ilsa’s gaze followed his every move. Colin felt a stir of satisfaction in his chest that she had finally stopped denying the electricity crackling between them. He stood just out of her reach and slowly opened his jeans to free his aching cock. Stroking himself slowly, he imagined all the many, many ways he was going to pleasure the lovely creature at his feet.

  I swallowed and forced myself to look at him. The hard muscle of his leg under my hand tempted my imagination with mouthwatering thoughts of what it would feel like easing between my legs, forcing me to open to him. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in a mischievous half-grin that dared me to make a move. My gaze locked with his as I slid my hand slowly up his leg.

  The lights suddenly flared,
and the captain’s voice was like a cold shower. I snatched my hand back as if I’d been scalded and reality slammed into me. Under the harsh cabin lights, I told myself I only imagined he looked as disappointed as I felt to have our interlude cut short.

  I quickly snapped my laptop closed and stuffed it into my backpack while the man next to me settled back into his seat. Tray tables and seat backs were adjusted around us, but I was only aware of him. His leg was still pressed against mine, and his shoulder brushed mine as we moved with the plane through its slightly rough descent. I berated myself for acting like a silly girl while I resolutely stared out at the twinkling lights below and wrapped my arms around myself. I focused my mind on the final leg of my journey and crossed my fingers for a decent gate assignment.

  CANCELLED. Not delayed—cancelled. I stared at the huge monitor and told myself not to cry. I always got weepy when I was overtired. I just wanted to go home, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen tonight. Worst of all, I didn’t have any extra money to get a hotel room. I was going to have to sleep in the airport and hope the weather system let up by the morning.

  “Did you miss your flight?”

  I spun toward the voice. The man from the plane stood next to me, staring at the monitors. Again, I willed myself not to cry and said, “No. It’s been cancelled. I guess I need to find a comfy bench for the night.” I shrugged a shoulder and turned to start my search for a quiet corner I could call mine for the next several hours.

  “Come with me,” he said and grabbed my elbow, steering me toward the airline counter. He bypassed the long queue of people and went straight up to the Gold Member counter. In a matter of minutes, with many, “Yes, Mr. Campbell’s” along the way, he had me rebooked on a flight for noon the next day. I just stood there gaping.