This Year's Black (13 page)

“I know.” She twisted her wrist on the downward stroke. “Come. For. Me.”

Unable to deny her order, he surrendered to the vibrations building in his balls. The sensation intensified, stoking his pulse until the orgasm spurted from him all over her perfect tits.

Chest heaving, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his, claiming her—and that’s exactly what this was. She was his now, whether she realized it or not.

Chapter Thirteen

“
Fashion is never in crisis because clothes are always necessary.”

— Achille Maramotti

Ryder’s eyes snapped open as the sound of a gong reverberated against her skull. Her phone vibrated just out of reach, notifying her of a text and then going silent.

Sated down to the depths of her soul, she considered ignoring the message. Devin snored beside her, oblivious to the noise. His brightly tattooed arm encircled her waist, holding her close. A rock was trying to fuse itself to her shoulder blade, or at least that’s what it felt like, but it had been there most of the night. Early morning light illuminated the tent’s interior, falling on her panties that had landed near the zipped closed front flap and Devin’s boxers still tangled inside his pants on the floor.

The gong sounded again.

“You gonna get that?” Devin’s voice, thick with sleep, brushed against her hair.

If she did, it meant she’d be letting the rest of the world into their tent haven. She’d have to leave his embrace and get dressed. They’d have to go find Sarah Molina and the money. Then they’d jet off the island and return home to Harbor City where they’d go their separate ways.

Which is exactly what she wanted.

So why was she ignoring her stupid phone as it
gong
ed a third time?

“If you don’t answer it, they’ll just keep calling.” He punctuated his words with a kiss to the curve of her neck.

“God, I hate it when you’re right.” She swiped her phone off the floor and glanced at the screen. The clock read
five-twenty-eight
as she tapped the text message icon.

Carlos: SM’s GPS went on this morning. She’s on the move heading toward AC. Bonus, I intercepted a text she sent. All it said was: eight Earl Gray. That mean anything to you?

Earl Gray. The name sparked something in Ryder
’
s brain, but not enough. Closing her eyes, she blocked out the tent, Devin
’
s warm body so close to her, and the lingering citrusy hint of his cologne. Her eyes snapped open.
That
’
s it.
Smell. Tea Time smelled just like a freshly brewed pot of Earl Gray tea. Eight had to be eight o
’
clock.

She rolled over and grabbed Devin’s face between her hands. “We’ve got her.”

The contact sent a frisson of awareness skittering up her arm and she shivered. The shimmy drew his attention. His pupils dilated and his gaze locked on her mouth. She meant the kiss to be celebratory, but all it took was the touch of his lips to hers for the world to go off kilter again. Desire as strong as a lifelong hunger roared to the forefront and she wrapped her legs around his bare hips and twisted, flipping him onto his back. Holding his arms above his head, she kissed her way down his neck and sucked on his collarbone.

“Damn, you taste good first thing in the morning.” She licked along the bright purple curve of the tribal tattoo on his right pec. Her hand slithered down between their bodies to grasp his hard-on. “I could eat you right up—if there was time.”

“I just knew there had to be a catch.”

“Always.” She gave him a hard, quick kiss as the day’s details worked themselves out in her head. “You know it’s probably a trap.”

“She hasn
’
t exactly been trying to cover her tracks.”

“
True.
” Ryder weighed the options. Follow the coordinates and risk walking into a worse shit storm than they were in already? It sure as hell sounded like suicide. Then again, Sarah had a gift for hiding right out in the open, so there was no guarantee they
’
d get this close again before the merger deadline. “Sarah
’
s smart and she
’
s been onto us from the get-go, but it’s our best worst chance.”

Working alone, Ryder had a slim chance of success. Her gaze slid over to the half-naked man beside her. But together? If it was a trap, she had to make sure Devin made it out with enough time to call in her brother and the cavalry.

They had the where and the when. If they kept it simple—and didn
’
t get themselves killed—Sarah could fall right in their laps. They’d have her on the jet with the wheels up before her thugs even realized what had happened.

“You have good instincts, I trust you.” Devin tucked a hair behind her ear. “You should, too.”

Bounding up from his warmth before she got lost in him again, she slipped on her panties, washed her chest, and tossed Devin his clothes. “Get a move on, stud. I’ve got a plan.”

…

Ryder stifled a yawn as the early morning sunrays broke over the single-story roofs of Andol City’s downtown, and did her best to ignore the funky scent emanating from the nearby overflowing trash barrels. While she was at it, she kept her gaze averted from the man with smoke pouring from his ears beside her. Let him stew, her plan was solid. All he had to do was follow her lead and they’d be golden.

Devin crossed his arms as the Jeep’s engine idled in an alley just off the central square. “I don’t like this. I should be by your side.”

“Which you’ve made abundantly clear.” She opened the passenger door, ready to hop down to the fast-warming asphalt. “But there are only two entry points for Tea Time. She’s either going in the front or hitting it from the back door, which we can’t see from this standpoint.”

“I don’t want you out of my sight.” His aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he couldn’t cover up the vein throbbing in his temple.

Saints preserve her from overprotective men.
“Can the he-man bullshit. I’m a professional.”

“It all changed last night.” He kept his profile to her, but reached out to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Things are different now.”

“Not my ability to do my job.” His concern flattered and annoyed her even as the simple act of holding hands left her aching for more of him. And wasn’t that complication just par for the course when it came to this man? “Trust me. The plan will work.”

“What if Sarah doesn’t show?”

“She’ll be there.” She had to be, otherwise their chances of success within the designated time frame went from slim to microscopic. Not something Ryder wanted to think about. “See you soon.”

Abandoning the Jeep and the pissed off man behind the wheel, she loped down the alley toward a six-foot-high concrete pineapple in front of a jewelry store. Without slowing her pace, she scrambled up to the statue’s pointy top and leaped from it to the building
’
s roof. Setting up in the shadow of a rooftop air conditioner, she hunkered down for what she hoped would be a short wait. From her perch, she had an unobstructed view of Tea Time’s back door and the police headquarters—for all the good proximity to Andol City’s version of law and order would do them. Shit, with the crooked cops sitting inside, having them so close would probably do more to hurt them.

She glanced at her watch.
Half past seven
. If everything was going according to schedule, Devin had ditched the hot pink Jeep in a municipal lot by now and was on his way up the wooden staircase to the rooftop garden on top of the sidewalk café across from Tea Time. She craned her neck and scanned the shadows surrounding the caf
é’
s potted palms and brightly colored hanging plants, but came up empty. Then an early morning sun ray hit a reflective surface, making it look as though the shadows were winking.

Devin’s aviators.
Had to be.

Everything was in place—everything except Sarah Molina. As the minutes ticked by, tourists on mopeds and locals in compact cars and four-wheel drives cruised down Main Street. The bakery down the street turned over its open sign and employees filtered into other businesses surrounding the tea shop.

Ryder chewed the inside of her check, trying to burn off the fidgety energy coursing through her.
Seven fifty-eight
. From the information she’d gathered, Sarah Molina had lived her life at Dylan’s Department Store like a drill sergeant.
If you weren’t early, you were late
, according to the domineering executive assistant. But she chose now to break her own rule? Odd didn’t begin to cover the creepy-crawly feeling dancing up Ryder
’
s spine.

When eight o’clock rolled around, most of the businesses lining Main Street had opened, but the tea shop stayed dark and no one approached the building.

Her stomach folded in on itself as she searched the streets for any sign of Sarah or a mysterious buyer. This couldn’t be happening.

Eight-fifteen
.

She’d missed something, Ryder felt it in her bones. What it was, she had no fucking clue.

She searched the area for the reflection from Devin
’
s sunglasses and came up empty.

Her mind spinning through the possibilities, she loped to the alley side of the building and scurried down the drainpipe. Halfway down, her thumb snagged on a metal brace securing the pipe to the turquoise-painted cement wall. Pain shot up her arm and she lost her grasp on the metal. She dropped the final few feet to the ground. Her thumb throbbed and there was a slice of skin missing, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. Just like the other bazillion scrapes and bruises from yesterday’s fight. She sucked on the side of her thumb, the metallic flavor of her blood tasting a lot like defeat.

But there wasn’t time to whine about it now. She had to find Devin. Taking off at a quick jog down the alley toward the Jeep, she kept to the building
’
s shadows and collided with a rail-thin tabby cat tearing around the corner. It bounced off her shins and continued along the alley as if a pack of wild dogs were on its tail.

Ryder
’
s sixth sense electrified the hair on the back of her neck and she slowed her pace. Approaching the end of the building with caution, she peeked around the corner at the now bustling Main Street. Shoppers shuffled down the sidewalks, stopping every few feet to look in a store window. Cars and mopeds puttered down the main drag, many circling the square at a crawl, trolling for a parking spot. Even the birds chirped as if all was right in the world.

Ready to sprint out into the street, she spotted a tell-tale reflection. She peered closer and spied the outline of Devin
’
s buzz cut hair. Relief took the starch out of her spine.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. It scratched against her skin like a stiff tag on a new shirt.

That’s when she spotted a woman with a glossy ebony bob in the window of the coffee shop and bakery across the street from Tea Time. A couple of lowlifes loitered outside the glass front doors. Ryder narrowed her gaze. The woman turned her head so she faced the street and took off a pair of oversize white Chanel sunglasses.
Bingo
.

Ryder whipped out her phone, accessed the camera, and zoomed in. The picture was fuzzy, but confirmed it was Sarah Molina.

The woman had elephant-sized brass balls to hang out in plain sight with only a pair of lackeys as protection. The goons in question were more interested in flinging rocks at the island cats roaming the streets than keeping an eye out for trouble.

Ryder was scanning the perimeter, searching for a secondary entry and exit point to the bakery when a dark blue, older model van slowed in front of the café and the side door slid open. The guards dropped their handfuls of pebbles and hustled into the vehicle. The van burned rubber as it pulled away from the curb, leaving Sarah on her own.

Okay. That should make the grab and dash a little easier. There might be more goons inside the bakery, but Ryder wouldn’t know until she got closer.

This was her chance
. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, sharpening her focus. She glanced up at the rooftop garden above the bakery, grabbed her phone, and dialed Devin’s number. “She’s in the bakery across the street.”

“What the fuck is she doing there?”

Sarah sipped from a mint-green cup as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Maybe she
’
s sneaking a cup of coffee instead of tea.” Ryder stayed out of Sarah’s line of sight as she crossed the bustling street and made her way toward the bakery.

“I’m on my way down.” The sound of Devin
’
s feet thumping across the roof echoed over the phone line.

“No, Devin. You get the Jeep.” She paused at the corner of the bakery, her back flat against the cement wall so she couldn’t be seen from the window. “I’ll grab her and meet you out front. Then we’ll blaze a trail for the airport. Alert the jet to be ready to take off.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. You just have to trust me to know how to do my job. Be out front in three minutes.”

”Ryder
—”

She clicked off her phone, more than finished with that conversation, and kept her face averted as she strode toward the door as if nothing in the world was the matter. After two years of following cheating husbands and sneaking wives, she knew the drill well. Skulkers drew attention. People who acted like they belonged somewhere blended into the scenery.

Angling her body so her face couldn’t be seen and inhaling a deep breath, she reached for the bakery door handle.

The screech of brakes sounded behind her. Ryder didn’t have to look back to know trouble had arrived. In the front door’s reflection, she spotted the dark blue van with a bruised up Long Hair in the driver’s seat and Freckles riding shotgun. She watched them with a muttered curse, but something else had captured their attention.

“
Americano
.” Freckles pointed down the street.

She turned in time to see the hot pink Jeep peel around the corner, heading straight for them.

The bakery door opened behind her.

The Jeep squealed to a stop.

Behind the wheel, Devin’s eyes rounded. “Ryder!”

In the next instant, everything went black.

…

Devin’s throat closed as Ryder crumpled to the ground in front of the bakery and lay unmoving. They
’
d gambled and lost on whether Sarah had laid a trap, but the payment was more than he was willing to give. Adrenaline hit his blood stream at one hundred proof.