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Authors: Jennifer Ryder

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Sting (20 page)

BOOK: Sting
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He holds the top of the vibrator against his shaft, and leans the side of it between my cheeks. As he glides his cock slowly in and out of me, the vibrations create the perfect stimulation, inside and out.

“Holy sharks!” I cry out, as my orgasm reaches out to every part of my body, in a zinging frenzy. I close my eyes; white flashes spark behind my eyelids.

Still buzzing, he drops the vibrator and grips my waist.

Ryan grunts, and slows the rocking of his hips. “You can’t say that, Willow,” he says through a gruff chuckle. He withdraws, and I fall into the sheets. He flips me over and drives into me once more.

“I can’t help it. That was, oh-my-God.” I angle my hips upwards and link my ankles around his waist. A giggle escapes my mouth.

“It’s no time for laughing, and it’s shit funny when you say that, but I’m tryin’ to come and all I wanna do is laugh.”

“I’m sorry. You just make me feel things I didn’t know were possible.” I breathe out heavily. When I drag in a deep lung full of air, I silently chastise myself.
He’s right. It’s not a laughing matter.

I run my hand up his thighs, and dig my nails into the hard muscle of his behind. He drives deeper. A stuttered groan gurgles up my throat as he revives the orgasm that was slowly fading.
No. I can’t go again so soon. Can I?

“Fuck, you want me to pull out?” he says and pants heavily.

I’m on the edge again, and for the first time in my life I’m being selfish.
It is my birthday, after all.

“No,” I breathe. I arch my back as Ryan drives into me, yet again into a state of pure ecstasy. He pulses deep within me, filling me with his seed. The sensation, the closeness I feel with him, is out of this world.

****

RYAN

I wring out a warm washer and return to the bedroom. The blush she’s wearing is as red as I am satisfied.

“I got some on the sheets,” she says, and clenches her thighs together, moving her feet closer to her arse.

I kneel in the middle of the bed and push her knees out, opening her glistening pussy to me.

My come spills from her and onto the white cotton. I wanna beat my fists on my chest. I’ve claimed her.

With the soft flannel, I gently wipe up the side of her thigh. Willow puts a hand on mine, halting me.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to do that,” she says, and takes over. Her cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. She gets up and wipes the sheets.

“Are you embarrassed about the mess?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I guess not.”

“Well don’t be. Watching my come spill out of you is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Blondie.”

“Really?”

“Yes.
Really
. You happy with the memory?”

“You bet your sweet cupcakes, I am.”

I shake my head and chuckle as she sways out of the room, as naked as the day she was born.

Bare is fucking awesome.

****

When Willow returns from the bathroom, I drag her into bed and draw her into my arms, facing me.

“How old is the birthday girl, huh?” I ask, tracing my finger down her arm.

“You really wanna know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“Thirty. I can’t believe it,” she says and scoffs.

“What’s so bad about thirty? I’m not that far off.”

“I just thought …” she huffs, and squirms against me.

“Thought what?”

“I just imagined at thirty, things would be different.”

“How?”

“Four years ago I had my life completely mapped out. I was engaged, and I’d hoped by now I’d be lucky enough to have a child.”

“You were engaged?” My voice is higher, surprising the both of us.

“Yes. It didn’t end well.”

I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact she was about to walk down the aisle, but this leads me back to my earlier suspicions about that day she stormed out of the café a wreck. Was he abusive towards her? Is that what happened?

“Did he hurt you?” My voice wavers. The gravity of what she may respond with, weighs on me.

She nods her head slowly. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” I spit out. I grind my teeth against each other. Fucking hell! The fact that she admits to it sends an army of goosebumps to ripple over my skin. I hate the thought of it, of anyone hurting this sweet thing.
My sweet thing.

“He never laid a hand on me, but he did a lot of things to hurt me. He broke my heart, for one. There were a lot of reasons why it didn’t work out. I think what caused the most damage were the lies.”

I sigh with slight relief at her first admission, but get tripped up when she mentions lies.

Lies. The essential element to my job. Paramount to the art of deception. Master Ryan Clark, aka Ryan Palmer, at your service.

“I’m so sorry he did that to you. Where is he now?”

“Hopefully somewhere he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Huh? What does she mean? Jail? It can’t mean anything else. What the hell did this motherfucker do?

I need to find out more. I need to know what we’re dealing with. More to the point, I need to know what Willow is running from.

“He won’t get near you.” It’s a promise and a statement. “You’re in charge of your own future now, Willow. You can have whatever you want. All I can hope for is that I get to be a part of it.”

Willow swallows hard, and looks deep into my eyes.
Right through me.
A certain fragility and sadness swirls in her gaze. She cups my face in her small hands, and brushes her lips over mine.

“You’re really special to me, Ryan. No, wait.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and opens them. A soft smile quirks at the corner of her mouth. “That sounds corny, when I’m trying to be serious about this.”

“Sounds just fine to me, Blondie. You’re special to me, too.”

“No, there’s just something I want to say, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to say it yet, you know? I just—”

I stall her sweet ramblings with a long demanding kiss, which is fired by the passion inside I have for this sweet, little woman.
My little woman.

Today I wish I was a lacklustre boat mechanic on a run-down fucking charter boat, because if I were that man, Willow would know the truth about me.

“We can just leave it at that for now, if you want, but I think we’re on the same page.” I can only hope that my kiss conveyed just that. How can I tell her how I feel about her when she doesn’t know the truth about me?

She holds her hand over my heart, pressing her palm firmly to my skin.
Don’t worry, Blondie. You’re corkscrewing your way in there.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

I love my job, but it’s days like this when I want to throw it all in. Well, the undercover part anyway.

I can never really have a life, a relationship. Any kind of honest one, that is. It’s a sacrifice I’ve made for more than two years. Willingly, of course. I’d never take it back. I’ve done more to progress my career in the last two years than I could have on the beat in ten. I’ve received commendations, been put on high-profile cases, because I’m a performer. I put the Force and the job ahead of everything. Including me. Always ahead of me.

The only thing of truth Willow knows about me is my first name.

It’s not enough.

Surely it’s not enough to fall in love with someone? To create a bond that lasts? If she knew the truth about me, would she feel the same? The more time I spend here, the more I don’t wanna leave. What happens when the job is over?

Willow trails her finger down my arm, and pokes my bicep. “Ha, big mussies,” she says, and smiles.

I copy her actions, poking her lean upper arm. “Little woman,” I whisper and kiss her feather-like on the lips.

The look of adoration in her eyes says more than words could. It melts my damn insides.

Whether I meant to or not, I’ve fallen for this woman. And it’s so many things, little things, that add up to something bigger than the both of us. It’s her funny-as-fuck sayings. The hiccups. Her drive to succeed and move on, regardless of what happened in the past. The way her body responds. How she clings to me. How she makes me feel.
King of the universe.

Willow needs me. She might not admit it, but I feel it in my bones, in my gut. My gut is never wrong.

It’s my duty to look out for her, something I take on willingly.

I’ll protect her from what haunts her.

I’ll guard her heart.

I never thought I’d be ready for something serious, doing what I do, but she’s making me re-think everything. EVERYTHING. My future. What I could have, but thought wasn’t in the cards for me.

A wife. A partner. A family of my own.

“What’s on your mind?” she says, dragging me from visions of the future.

“I’m not a greedy man, Willow, but you’re turning me into one.” I sigh. Yes, just like my girlfriend Mick would.

“Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t laugh your arse off?” I say, a little fear riddled in my tone. I’m only saying this because I know Willow’s heart. She’d never make me feel bad or ridicule me, and I know in my gut that she wants the same thing.

“I promise.”

“Call me old-fashioned, but I wanna get you knocked up and have you round-bellied and barefoot, cooking biscuits in our kitchen.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Ours?”

That’s what rattled her out of that sentence?

“Yeah, Blondie.
Ours
. One day. You’ve shown me what I’ve been missing. For a long time I didn’t think I’d find someone like you, and what I think we could have is something I’d like to fast forward to.” I need to talk to Pete and let him know that after this job, I want out of undercover. It’s time.

“Awww, that’s so sweet.” She places her hand over her heart, and lets out a longing sigh. “Can I tell you something?”

I nod, as a grin curls at the edge of my mouth.

“My mother used to say that ‘the one person that’s on your mind, last thing at night, that’s where your heart is, sugar.’”

“She was onto the sugar thing too, huh?”

Willow nods. “You’re on my mind … always.”

Dang.

****

WILLOW

“Angel!” his voice bellows across the expansive room.

Court officials wrestle him as he moves in my direction. They secure handcuffs behind his back. His deadly gaze fixes on me until he’s out of sight.

The gavel slams down, and the judge adjourns the court for a brief recess.

I scramble from the witness stand. Two tall men in dark suits guide me through a series of hallways until I’m escorted to a car park. Before me awaits a black sedan with tinted windows.

My heart pounds fiercely, as adrenaline pumps through me. They can’t protect me from him. I need to get out. Fear drives me to break free of their grasp, and I run.

I race through the streets, passing office buildings in a blur. Lactic acid burns, my legs and lungs are on fire, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

The next moment I’m surrounded by a field that extends as far as I can see, with long grass that cuts at my legs and hands as I continue to run. Finally, sand is between my toes, and the soothing sound of waves crashing to shore fills my ears.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, soothing my lungs with the cool air. In and out. In and out. My temples throb, and my entire body shakes, riddled with anxiety.

“Why did I testify?” I whisper to the salty evening air. The wind whips through my hair, sticking to the tears that stream down my face. “He’ll kill me!”

Ryan sprints down the beach. I hold up my hand in warning. “Don’t!” I scream. The terror inside me magnifies as he draws nearer.

He can’t be here. He can’t stop this.

Jacob tightens his hold on my waist, his fingers digging cruelly into my side. “I warned you, Angel.”

He extends his other arm around me and aims the gun at Ryan’s chest.

“You ready to watch your boy die?” Jacob growls in my ear. He releases me and yanks my hair back sharply, causing my back to arch into his hard body.

“He’ll kill you,” I whisper, as I stare deep into those chocolate pools for the last time.

The gunshot rings out.

****

RYAN

A blood-curdling scream escapes from her mouth. I launch myself out of bed and snatch my Glock from the top drawer. I flick on the lamp, and scan the room for a target, preparing to take aim.

No one here but us.

A loud sob breaks free from Willow’s mouth as her arms flail about, tangled in the sheets.

Calm down, Ryan. She’s having a bad dream.

I slip the weapon back in the drawer, and lay down beside her.

“Willow, wake up,” I say, stroking her upper arm to rouse her.

She mumbles something, that’s hard to make out, but what I do catch makes my blood run cold.

Testify.

Kill me.

“Wake up,” I growl, louder this time. I grip her shoulders to steady her small, trembling body. Her skin is cool and damp with sweat.

“Don’t,” she chokes out. My heart wrenches with each jerk of her chest.
How do I make her stop?
I don’t wanna hurt her.

I shake her shoulders, gently at first, but it takes more force before her eyes fling open. Tears roll down her flushed cheeks and she chokes on a sob.

“I’m here. I’m here,” I repeat, pulling her into my arms. Her chest rises and falls as she gasps for air.

Eyes glazed over, her eyelids flutter before they close and she melts into my arms.

“He’ll kill you,” she whispers.

Fuck.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

WILLOW

“Are you smiling, lady? Like really smiling?” Gabs teases.

I remember having another nightmare last night, but it seemed to end much quicker than normal. What I remember well is the safe feeling of being wrapped up in Ryan’s warm arms. But I think the main reason for my smiling was waking to Ryan’s head between my legs.
Best start to my day ever
.

BOOK: Sting
7.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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