This Year's Black (16 page)

Devin halted beside her. “Where to?”

“Truck.” She pointed to the half-rusted four-by-four parked at an angle and tossed him the keys from the jailer
’
s pocket. “I’ll be right there, I just have to grab something.”

She bolted after Sarah, determination pushing her forward with each stride. She almost caught up with the embezzler about a hundred yards from the warehouse, in the middle of the flat grassland leading to the volcano. Digging deep, she added an extra burst of speed—enough to reach out and grab the back of Sarah’s shirt, jerking her backward. The other woman flew off her feet.

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” She twisted her hand in Sarah’s collar, pulling it taut around her neck.

“
Bitch
.” Sarah spit out the word.

Ryder snorted. “That all you got?”

The older woman dug in her heels. “I’m not going with you.”

“No?” Ryder dragged the other woman forward, not giving a shit about the size-five ruts she left behind in the ground. “There are some men in black who can’t wait to see you.”

“The Andol Republic has no extradition agreement with the United States. This is kidnapping!” Hysteria sharpened Sarah’s voice.

“You should know.” She hauled the struggling woman across the dirt yard in front of the warehouse. “But who said anything about the U.S.?”

“Wh—what do you mean?”

Ryder pulled to a stop in front of a man in opaque sunglasses dressed in more black than she wore on a good day. He held up a finger as he chomped on a wad of gum big enough to give every major league ballplayer a plug. Nodding, he pressed a button on his earpiece.

“Yes, sir, the location is contained. The subjects are in custody. Mission complete.”

Taking a moment to relish the success, Ryder glanced back at Devin. He was leaning against the front end of the ancient truck, his ankles crossed and a shit-eating grin on his face. A shiver that had nothing to do with adrenaline made its way up her spine.

“Ma’am?” The man in black snatched her attention away from her lover.

She dragged her prisoner forward. “This is Sarah Molina, embezzler, thief, and overall awful excuse for a grandma.” She turned to Sarah. “These fine gentlemen are working with the Andol government to bring down you and your entire crime-ridden family. The only place you’re going is to prison, for a very, very long time.”

Chapter Sixteen

“
First rule of cleavage: It’s not how low you go, but where and when you show.”

— Elisabeth Dale

Helicopters and small planes packed the sleepy Andol Republic airport Ryder and Devin had flown into roughly forty-eight hours ago. She tightened her grip on her stuffed overnight bag until the hard leather handle bit into her palm, trying to steady her shaky hands.

God, had it only been two days?

An hour after the raid, she was standing at the top of the old school metal stairway that had been rolled up to the Dylan’s Department Store corporate jet. She paused to look back, a bittersweet smile curving her mouth as she soaked in the island’s dangerous beauty for the last time. She could just pick out the tops of the three dormant volcanoes in the distance, standing proud against a soft blue sky untouched by clouds. A salty island breeze tumbled her hair, and she automatically raised her fingers to keep the short strands from sticking to her lip gloss before remembering she didn’t have to anymore.

She’d shed that dead weight, leaving herself lighter. More free.

“You coming onboard or did you change your mind and decide to fly commercial?” Devin stood just inside the jet, his muscular frame taking up most of the open doorway.

Her heart did the
cha cha
at the sight of him. “Nine hours cramped in coach when I could stretch out here on a private jet? You
’
re kidding, right?”

“Here, let me get that for you.” He held out his hand for her bag and flashed a wicked grin. “I’m just being nice. I promise, I know you can hold your own.”

Her stomach did that
flip flop
thing that seemed to happen whenever she was within smelling distance of his citrus cologne. “Smart-ass.”

“And you like me that way.” He snatched the bag from her grasp, the briefest touch of his fingers sending sparks across her skin. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

She followed him through the main cabin of the jet to a door at the back. He twisted the knob and pushed open the door. Inside was giant bed covered in black silk sheets that took up almost the entirety of the small bedroom. Decadent. Delicious.

Dangerous
.

Much like the man standing next to her who made her breath catch every time she set eyes on him.

“I figured I needed to up my game when it came to distracting you on the flight.”

“Oh, really? And you figured I’d just hop in with you?” She arched an eyebrow and leaned against the bedroom wall.

“I know you have some ridiculous year-without-commitments thing going on, but I intend to devote every minute of the next nine hours convincing you that your misguided resolution is the dumbest thing on the face of the earth.” He reached behind her neck and pulled the pink tie holding her sarong.

Her heart fluttered as the material slithered down her chest, snagging on her hard nipples. “Why, Mr. Harris, is that a challenge?”

“No it’s the first step in my Big Plan.” His finger feathered across her collarbone, coming to rest against the pulse jumping in her neck.

“World domination?” Done with his teasing, she reached for his belt, but he captured her hands and pulled her arms taut above her head. Desire pooled in her belly, hot and demanding.

“Something bigger.” He lowered his lips within a hair’s breadth of hers. “You
’
re mine, Ryder.
Mine
. I just need you to agree.”

Stunned, she couldn’t move as his tongue teased her lips, sending heat flaring through her body. The flames burned away her resistance. Not that she had any…

“Open up for me, Ryder.”

Her body vibrated at his growled command and she opened for him. One day he’d ask the question,
yeah, that question
, and she’d say yes. She knew it as surely as she knew her Nonni made the best gravy in the world and that chocolate cannoli were the only kind worth eating. But she wouldn’t make it easy for him. They both enjoyed the challenge of the chase too much.

He deepened the kiss and his hands swept down her sides, coming to rest against the outside of her thighs. The sarong’s filmy material teased her bare legs as he inched it higher and higher until it bunched around her waist.

The contrasting texture of his rough hands and the smooth silk of her panties teased her desire. She buried her fingers in his thick hair, wanting to touch him everywhere at once. There wasn’t her. There wasn’t him. There was only
them
. She wanted what only Devin could give and she refused to live another moment without it.

Desperate for more, she pulled back from his hungry mouth, grabbed a handful of his shirt in each fist, and yanked hard. Buttons flew across the jet’s small bedroom, leaving exposed his muscular chest covered in bright tattoos. She planned to spend at least an hour tracing them with her fingers and wet tongue.

“On the bed or against the wall?”

“Yes, please.” The ache deep within her intensified. Her sensitive skin craved his touch, yearned for him.

His hands curved around to her ass, cupping each globe in his palms and lifting her so her yearning core fit perfectly against his hard cock. He rocked against her, and she wrapped her legs tightly around his lean waist. Wanting him. Needing him. Desperate for him.

Her lips busy with his, she spread her fingers wide and ran them across his broad shoulders, pushing his ruined shirt down his tattooed arms. His citrus cologne teased her as she followed the curve of his biceps, tensing under her touch.

Pulling her mouth away from his was torture, but it was the only way she could taste more of him and lick away the island from his warm skin. His pulse jumped against his corded neck as she trailed kisses down his throat. Pausing to tongue his hammering pulse, she relished that he wanted this as much as she did. Her quick nip elicited a harsh groan from him. Then he groaned again.

Pushing her gently backward, he framed her face with his hands, forcing her to make eye contact. All of the teasing had fled from his latte-colored gaze. Whatever he was about to say mattered.

“Say you’re done with no commitments,” he said intensely.

Her heart tripped. “I’m done.”

“Thank God.” He ripped her sarong away, flipped her around, and laid her onto the silk sheets.

Anticipation fluttered through her as his hand snaked down her flat belly and sneaked under the elastic of her panties. He sank a single finger between her wet folds. Her back bowed, strung so tight with pleasure it nearly broke her.

The jet vibrated under them, picking up speed as it rushed down the runway. Eyes clenched shut, she felt a buzzing in her limbs as he stroked her clit. The hum grew in intensity when he slid first one, then two fingers inside, brushing against the sensitive cluster of nerves within. Trying to anchor herself to reality as they lifted from the ground, she reached for him.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, but instead of bringing her back to earth, the feel of his muscles straining beneath her touch only increased her need. The vibration built deep inside her, ratcheting up with each stroke of his fingers, in and out, in and out, urgent need blinding her to any sensation but his touch. His fingers twisted within her slick core, pushing her closer and closer to release, until she shattered around him.

Panting, she rested her cheek against the cool silk sheet, not yet sated. Not by a long shot. “Fuck me, Devin. Now.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” His lips captured hers and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

The crinkle of foil being ripped open served as her only warning before he slid his rock hard cock inside her wetness. He drove deep into her heated core, filling her, completing her. She’d known it from their first night together, that he was the only man for her. She was done denying it. He was hers. She was his.

Digging her heels into the small of his back, she arched and ground her pussy against his hard cock. A thrum started deep within her, building with each deep stroke. Hot waves rippled up from her pussy. Every part of her strained toward orgasm. Close.
So close
. She swiveled her hips, bringing her clit in perfect alignment with him as he surged forward. Her nails dug into his shoulders as her body constricted and she came undone. A moment later, he drove into her one final time, and his entire body shook with the power of his orgasm.

Moments later, they rolled onto their backs, both of their chests still heaving with exertion.

”Ryder, I—”

“I know.” She turned on her side and trailed her fingers across his muscular chest.

“I still want to say it.” He captured her face between his palms, gentle but insistent. “I love you.”

Her heart did that sideways shuffle-hop thing. “I love you, too. So fucking much.”

His gaze fell to her left hand. “When we get home I
’
m going to—”

She covered his mouth with hers. There’d be plenty of time for promises later. Right now, they were sky-bound and he wasn
’
t going anywhere.

She still had hours of letting him convince her.

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Acknowledgments

A huge thank you to my fabulous and fashion obsessed editor, Stephen, and my always stylish editor, Nina. You two are the dynamic duo of Killer Style. Bigs hugs to my street team, The Flynnbots, for all their support. You guys make the days spent in my yoga pants powered by coffee and chocolate totally worth it.

About the Author

Avery Flynn has three slightly wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband, and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. Find out more about Avery on her website (www.averyflynn.com), follow her on Twitter (@AveryFlynn), like her on her Facebook page (www.facebook.com/AveryFlynnAuthor), or friend her on her Facebook profile. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the internet, she’ll be your best friend for life.

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