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Authors: Rhyannon Byrd

Make Me Yours (13 page)

BOOK: Make Me Yours
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“Give me your mouth,” he growled, and she turned her head, crying out as his tongue thrust past her lips. He was filling every part of her, and it was too much, pushing her over the edge. She came hard and wet and long, sobbing into his mouth. He kissed her more aggressively than he ever had before, then started fucking her harder as he curved her forward, back down to the bed, and followed her over. With a harsh shout, he buried his face in the curve of her throat and rammed himself deep, pulsing inside her in a long, shuddering climax that left them both wrecked. When he finally stirred and carefully pulled out, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back into the shower, soothing her sore body with the hot water and steam, carefully washing and caring for her. As his rough fingers gently touched the puckered entrance where he'd been buried, he softly growled, “No one but me,” in her ear, then moved his fingers to her swollen vulva, touching her there as well. “I mean that, Lily. Only me. You're
mine.

She nodded weakly, too limp to even be embarrassed by anything that they'd done. It had felt right. And the raw, aggressive way that he'd staked his claim on her had felt right, too.

“I can handle you, Scott. I will be whatever you need. You just have to be honest with me.”

“All I need is you,” he told her, and it was true. With Lily, the games he played for control didn't matter. There were no rules with her. No boundaries. He just wanted to consume her in every possible way and make himself a permanent part of her life. Make a
new
life with her. One that didn't have any ties to the past. One that looked, for once, to the future. He just didn't know how to make that happen. How to fix what was wrong with him, so that he could be what
she
needed.

They finally dragged themselves from the shower, and he dried her with a towel, before carrying her back into the bedroom. He stripped off the damp sheets, tossed some dry blankets over the mattress, and then they got into bed. She cuddled against him in the darkness, with her back to his chest, his arms wrapped tight around her. Though her breathing was slow and even, he knew she hadn't yet fallen asleep. He hadn't planned on making the confession, but he suddenly heard himself saying, “My mom was a junkie.” He had to swallow against the knot in his throat, but forced himself to keep going. “Not party drugs. The hard stuff. The kind that left you drooling on the kitchen floor, while your kid tried his best to drag you to bed. On the nights you actually made it home.”

“That couldn't have been easy,” she said quietly, lifting his hand to her lips and softly kissing his battered knuckles.

“It sucked. I never knew when I was going to find her passed out in her vomit or screwing some dealer on the kitchen table or no longer breathing. She finally OD'd when I was sixteen, and I . . . I decided from that point on that I never wanted anyone to mean anything to me. That I didn't want to feel responsible for keeping someone I cared about alive.”

When he fell silent, she didn't push him for anything more. She simply rolled over in his arms, cupped his face in her hands, and tenderly kissed his mouth. Something hot and vibrant and tender rushed through him, his hands pressing against her back, locking her against him as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips, her sweet taste somehow washing away the bitterness of his past and replacing it with something that felt strangely like . . .
hope.

They kissed for what felt like hours, neither pushing the intimacy to the next level, as if they just wanted to stay lost in the moment, until exhaustion finally claimed them. They slept in a tangled knot, his palm resting against the center of her chest, as if he could hold the rhythm of her heart in his hand. He slipped his other hand under her hair and curled it around her nape, as if he could hold
her
forever.

But their time was already running out.

Ten

RYDER WASN'T SURE WHAT IT WAS THAT HAD WOKEN HIM.
He'd heard something, but it hadn't been loud. Maybe a creak in the hallway or the rasp of a door being opened. But it'd been enough to catch his attention.

He woke Lily up as he pulled out of her arms, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, careful not to make a sound.

“Scott?” she whispered groggily, lifting up on her elbow.

“Shh.”

“What's going on?”

Though he didn't have any proof, he listened to what his gut was telling him. If he was wrong, then he'd let her and Mike have a good laugh at his expense about it later. But he wasn't going to second-guess his instincts. Not when Lily's life was on the line. “It's Rado,” he told her. “He's here.”

He heard her stifled gasp, but she was too smart to cry out. They both got to their feet and silently dressed. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, only to find that the battery had died on him.
Shit.
And there wasn't a landline in the room. Grabbing his gun from the bedside table, he checked the clip, then curled the fingers of his free hand around Lily's wrist and motioned for her to stay behind him as he made his way over to the door. There was a soft scrape of sound as he started to pull the door open, his hand now gripping her arm as he positioned her against the wall. If someone was in the hallway, he didn't want them getting a clear shot at Lily when he opened the door.

Forcing himself to stay loose and calm, Ryder took a quick look around the edge of the doorway. The hallway was clear in both directions, the low glow of a light in the living room relieving the shadows. He listened for any sounds, but the house was silent, and he wondered where Mike was. If Rado and his men had found the safe house, the odds were high that they'd followed them from the club, which meant they already knew about Mike. It also meant they'd probably been watching him and Lily in the parking lot, and his gut cramped, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he choked back a snarl. He should have never put her in that position, damn it. He'd let his jealousy overrule his common sense, and had failed to protect her. Jesus. He was such a fucking jackass!

And this is not the time for this shit. Not if I want to keep her alive.

Taking a deep breath, Ryder shoved the fury back and focused instead on the problem at hand. He was about to let go of Lily's arm and step into the hallway, when he heard a deep voice say, “Drop the gun and kick it over to me or I shoot her.”

Fuck!
The gritty, accented words had come from across the hall, where Yuri Radovich was now standing in the open doorway to Ryder's room, gun in hand. The sound he'd heard had probably been when his door was opened, and he thanked God the asshole had chosen to search that room first.

“You can't shoot her if you don't have a shot,” Ryder replied, tightening his grip on Lily's arm. But the monster wasn't fooled. With a low laugh, Rado eyed the position of Ryder's body and the visible portion of his arm, then shifted his aim. If he fired the powerful 9mm now, the bullet would go right through the wall and into Lily.

Son of a fucking bitch.

As if she could read his mind, Lily said,
“Don't.”
Her low voice vibrated with anger. “Don't you dare do it, Scott. You know he's going to kill me anyway. Don't you dare give him your weapon and leave yourself unprotected!”

“Smart girl, your Lily. But do you really want to stand there and watch her bleed out, knowing you could have prolonged the moment?” Radovich murmured. “Maybe have even given the men who will no doubt be rushing to your rescue a chance to get here in time? We disabled several of the alarm systems you had in place. But who knows if we got them all, eh?”

The bastard was right. He had to buy them more time. Dropping his gun to the floor, Ryder kicked it across the hall, Lily's shocked gasp echoing in his ears as he watched Radovich squat down to retrieve the weapon.

With a gun in each hand now, Radovich moved forward, nearing the doorway to Lily's room, and Ryder yanked her behind him, using his body as a shield as he backed away from the door. With Radovich standing in the semi-lit hallway, he had a clearer view of the terrorist, and the man was just as ugly as he remembered. Tall and bulky with an oily head of thinning hair and jowls like a bulldog, he had a crooked nose that sported red veins from too much vodka over too many years. He smelled like sweat and smoke and something sour, the combination enough to turn your stomach if you took too many deep breaths.

“I know what you were trying to do at the club tonight, Mr. Ryder,” Rado drawled with a gloating smile, his Slavic accent adding a guttural edge to his words. “You wanted to draw me out. And it worked.” His smiled widened. “Just not quite the way you wanted, eh?”

“You came alone?”

“Of course not. My men are dealing with the sheriff's brother as we speak. So I'm afraid he won't be much help to you this evening.”

Ryder shoved any worry about Mike to the back of his mind, knowing he couldn't let it get to him. Not now, when he had to find a way to get Lily through this alive. Stalling, hoping like hell that Mike had gotten the chance to call Ben, he asked, “How did you know where to find her?”

Rado's heavy-lidded eyes glittered with triumph. “Given what I know about
you,
I thought it a safe bet that she would run here for help. Who better to protect her than the man who would die for her?”

“What do you know about me?” he demanded, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as dread slithered through him like a knife. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Radovich glanced at the right side of his face, then smirked. “The night I gave you that pretty scar, Mr. Ryder. The night you and your men destroyed nearly everything I'd built before you were captured. You made your feelings regarding the girl painfully obvious.”

He shook his head, trying to remember, to understand what the jackass was talking about. He remembered Rado's threats . . . but not what he'd said in response. Only what he'd been willing to do in order to stop him.

Obviously relishing the sound of his own voice, Rado said, “I was enjoying myself that night, telling you about your friends who had already died, then promising you that I would take out Heller and everyone that you had ever cared about in this world. That's when you came at me like a rabid dog, screaming the name
Lily
as you tried to kill me. You had so many injuries you could barely stand, but you kept coming, somehow staying on your feet, swearing that you would gut me before ever letting me touch her. When you were close enough I slashed your face. I just wish I had taken the time to kill you then, instead of leaving you half-dead on the floor to deal with later. I'd wanted more time to properly see to your torture.”

Ryder tried to remember, but his memories were hazy. He just recalled being driven beyond sanity by Rado's threats, knowing he needed to kill the bastard before the terrorist harmed Lily. He'd been fueled by raw emotion, rather than tactical skill, and it had nearly cost him his life. In his blind rage, he'd allowed the bastard to cut him. But like Radovich had just said, he'd been left alone when something had drawn the terrorist and his men to another part of the building. When Ryder had finally pulled himself back to his feet, he'd almost done the unthinkable and blown up the entire city block using the explosives that were stored in the room just to ensure that the bastard was killed. But then Rado had returned. And he'd been alone. Knowing he had only moments before the rest of Rado's men arrived, Ryder had shoved the knife that'd been hidden in the sole of his left boot right through Radovich's heart. The terrorist had collapsed, blood pooling beneath him as more bubbled on his lips, and Ryder had escaped out the second-story window, managing to make it to the safety of his team's mobile command center by sheer force of will.

He'd never realized what he'd revealed in those telling moments that he and Radovich had faced off against each other. Even after Lily had run to him, he'd been thinking the terrorist wanted her because of Heller. But it'd been because of
him.

Son of a bitch.
He couldn't deal with this now. Had to somehow shove it down with all the other shit he would have to face once this fucker was no longer breathing. It didn't matter that Rado had the guns. He wasn't going to let this bastard win. If he had to give his own life to save Lily's then he would. He had no qualms about dying to keep her alive. But if it came to that, he was taking the jackass with him.

“And what now?” he asked, curling his lip in a sneer. “Are you really such a pussy that you're going to just shoot me?”

Radovich lifted his bushy brows. “What do you suggest?”

His voice was low and controlled. “Put the gun down and fight me, man to man.”

“Last time we did that, you didn't fare so well,” Rado drawled, eyeing his scar.

Ryder gave him a sharp smile. “Then what are you afraid of?”

Color rose in the terrorist's face and his eyes narrowed. “I'm not afraid, Mr. Ryder. But I'm also not stupid.”

Going straight for the bastard's ego, he shook his head and laughed. “I know a pussy when I smell one, Radovich. What's the problem? Are the years catching up to you? You just don't have the balls to fight me now, do you?”

Radovich came a step closer, radiating cold, deadly rage. “I think, instead, I will enjoy putting bullets in your most vulnerable body parts, one by one, to make up for the shit you forced me to live through after stabbing me in the heart. I spent nearly six months in a coma, then another three in recovery. Almost a year went by before I could climb out of bed and deal with the scum that had tried to take over my crew while I was healing. And finally, when I was once again at the top, I knew it was time to come after the man who had tried so hard to destroy me.” Rado's gaze slid to Lily, and his eyes gleamed with malice as they came back to Ryder. “But first,” he snarled, spittle spraying from his wide lips, “I wanted to take away everything that had ever meant anything to him. I wanted to start with what meant
most.
Which is why I plan on leaving you alive just long enough for you to watch me take your woman, ripping her into pieces, before I finally take your
life!

“Better yet, asshole, why don't you just drop the guns?” Mike rasped, the barrel of his 9mm pressed against the back of Rado's head. “Drop them and kick them over to Ryder. Now! Before I decide these walls will look more lively with your fucking pea-sized brain splattered all over them.”

The pistols made a heavy clunking sound as they hit the floor, Rado's kick skidding them toward Ryder, who stopped them with his foot. “Take it,” he said to Lily, after picking up both weapons and holding Rado's out to her.

Slipping his own gun into the back of his jeans, he shot a glance at Mike, thankful as hell to see him. “The others?” he asked, wondering about the terrorist's men.

Mike's voice was flat, his gaze hooded. “Dead.”

Cracking his knuckles, Ryder said, “Hear that, Rado? Your dumbass goons failed. It's just me and you now.”

“Scott,” Lily whispered, touching the back of his arm. “You don't have to do this.”

He looked at Mike. “Get her out of here.”

“No!” She moved to the far side of the room, holding her hands out in front of her, as if she could stop Mike from grabbing her. But she was looking at Ryder as she said, “Please, don't make me leave you.”

Mike forced a furious-looking Radovich into the bedroom ahead of him, his gun still pointed at the fucker as Mike made his way over to Lily. But he didn't try to force her out. He simply positioned her in the open doorway, and put his body in front of hers, making it clear that he would protect her with his life. Satisfied that she was safe, Ryder turned his attention to the man he was going to enjoy the hell out of killing. “Now we deal with this in a fair fight, you ugly son of a bitch.”

He would have been lying if he'd said he thought it would be easy. He knew from the intel he'd collected on Radovich that the terrorist had grown up on the streets in one of the poorest cities in Eastern Europe, where he'd had to battle daily for survival. The man also had nearly three inches on Ryder and outweighed him by a good fifty pounds, with a right hook that felt like a fucking wrecking ball. But Ryder had speed and training on his side, and the bone-deep determination to wipe the floor with the asshole for what he'd done to Lily and her family. They traded a dozen punches, landing hammering blows to the other's ribs, kidneys, and face. A stream of red poured from the terrorist's nose, while Ryder's lip was busted open, his tongue tasting the sharp, metallic tang of his own blood. He could tell Radovich was tiring, his fondness for vodka taking its toll on his stamina, and Ryder moved his head from side to side while retaining his fighting stance, anticipating the bastard's next move. When Rado suddenly rushed him, trying to take him to the floor, Ryder spun to the side and rammed his knee into Rado's belly, doubling him over. He followed with a swift uppercut to his chin that snapped his head back, then a powerful right hook to his jaw that sent the asshole crashing to the floor. Radovich groaned, looking dazed, not even trying to get up.

Taking his gun from the back of his jeans, Ryder aimed the barrel at the center of Rado's greasy forehead. Then he lifted his gaze and looked at Lily, who was peeking around Mike's arm. “Go to my room.”

Tears filled her eyes, her gaze darting to the scar on his cheek. “I don't want to leave you with him,” she whispered, the words thick with fear.

“I know. But I need you to do this for me, Lil. And I don't need an argument. Please. Just go.”

She frowned, but nodded. She didn't look back as she made the short walk across the hallway, then closed the door to his bedroom behind her.

BOOK: Make Me Yours
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