Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
Ava
The limo is waiting for us when we step out of the party, but so are the cameras.
The flashes go off as we exit, nearly blinding me, but Dagen’s arm on mine keeps me from stumbling on the red carpet.
I think I remember to smile. I’m not sure.
My mind is too much of a whirlwind to think about what the muscles on my face are doing.
Only as Dagen helps me into the limo do I think about what the others might be doing.
But I shouldn’t have worried. Normally, Wylan would never leave a front entrance, but here he is, sticking close to me, that large shrimp tray in his hand.
His mask is firmly in place, hiding his identity as he hands the shrimp tray to one of the photographers.
“Enjoy yourself, chap,” he tells him, before following after us.
Felix is following behind him, his laptop hidden under his arm.
His eyes are shining bright behind his mask, those same eyes that latch onto me as I’m ushered toward the limo.
The photographers shout at us as we pass, asking questions I can’t answer even if I wanted to.
They’re not allowed inside, but every tech bigwig is inside that building, and they’re eager to get any tidbits they can write about in their fancy magazines.
Dagen opens the door to the limo and pushes on my lower back to get me inside.
Before I can duck down, the venue doors violently burst open behind us, the doors slamming against the wall when nothing is there to stop them.
We turn to look, and my eyes widen when I see Ric standing there, his broken wrist cradled against his chest.
“You’re going to wish you never fucked with Ricardo McCoy!
” he snarls, but his voice lacks any real infliction due to the pain in his tone.
“You’re all going to pay for this!” He disappears into the crowd of reporters before any of us can respond, leaving me equal parts anxious and afraid as the cameras go off.
Cornered dogs often bite. Cornered dogs with nothing left to lose can tear you apart.
“Should we worry about that?” I rasp as Dagen gently helps me into the limo.
He slides in after me before Felix and Wylan follow. The door closes behind us, the limo pulls away, and everyone relaxes. It’s as if being certain that we don’t share the same air as Ric makes the very atmosphere lighter.
“Nothing to worry about,” Dagen answers confidently. “He can’t touch us. We have the most extensive security system anyone has ever created and plenty of security guards. He knows that.”
Wylan leans back in the seat across from me, his legs spread as he pops his mask off and tosses it to the side. His eyes trail up my exposed legs and settle on my face. He addresses Dagen without ever looking away from me. “In my experience, kicked dogs shouldn’t be underestimated.”
“I’m not underestimating him,” Dagen counters. “I know precisely every move he’s going to make.”
Wylan doesn’t look convinced, and when I glance over at Felix, he looks like he agrees with Wylan more than he does with Dagen.
“Are you sure—”
“Don’t worry,” Dagen says, cutting off my question.
“You’re protected. The gears are turning.
Tomorrow morning, there will be billboards all around the city with Ric’s picture on it detailing what he’s done.
The files have been sent to the proper authorities since the video was revealed at the gala.
Things will go exactly as planned. Trust me. ”
“And you think he’ll just stop?” I ask hopefully. “That he’ll give up chasing us down after all that?”
No one answers, their eyes meeting each other’s rather than mine, and my anxiety skyrockets. They’re not telling me something, and they clearly don’t believe Ric will stop. What was I thinking about cornered dogs again?
“You’re safe,” Dagen repeats. “That’s all that matters.”
My fingers wring in my lap, an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves.
So much has happened. Ric’s societal downfall feels sweet, but I’m not overly concerned with his feelings on the matter or my own.
The most important thing is that Elsie is safe, and Ric leaves us alone for good.
I could care less about anything else, even if revenge does feel. . . nice.
The rest of the limo ride is quiet except for Wylan singing a little jingle under his breath.
I don’t recognize the tune, but the longer the ride takes, the more he sprawls out on the bench seat, his eyes growing more heated with every mile as he looks at me.
I’m worried about Ric, so at first, my anxiety controls my actions, forcing me to look outside rather than at the man clearly imagining eating me up in this red dress.
But the longer the ride takes, the more attuned I become to his attention, until I’m shifting in my seat in an attempt to release the tension between my legs.
“We’re here,” Dagen announces as the limo pulls up outside my house. He opens the door and slides out.
Felix moves to follow him, his laptop under his arm still, his eyes soft on me. When I move to slide out after him, Wylan’s hand shoots out and grabs my knee, stopping me.
“Not quite yet, crumpet,” he says to me, before looking out the open door at Wylan. “You don’t mind if we take the limo around the block a few times, do you, Foxxie?”
Dagen looks between Wylan and me. “If Ava is comfortable with that, then it’s fine.”
I nod my head, my eyes flickering nervously to Wylan. “I’m okay.”
Dagen nods and steps back before closing the door. They immediately lock again before John pulls away from the curb.
“Just keep going around the block until I say otherwise, yeah,” Wylan tells John before he pushes the button for the privacy wall.
It goes up slowly, achingly slow, until it closes completely.
Wylan and I are alone, on separate sides of the limo, his eyes on fire as he looks at me.
“What’s the matter?” he purrs as my hands start to wring together again. “Do I scare you?”
I shake my head. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Pity,” he laughs. “Fear adds an element in fucking that’s hard to not enjoy.” He cocks his head and studies me. “Come here, Ava.”
“The car’s moving,” I argue, pointing to my stilettos. “I can’t just move.”
“Then crawl,” he growls. His tone leaves no room for argument.
I hesitate, mostly because I’ve never had a man be both so infuriating and so sexy at the same time.
I’m tempted to decline, to refuse to lower myself before this man, but another part of me.
. . really wants to. I can’t explain it.
Wylan is all mystery, all shadows and secrets, and fuck if I don’t want to dive deep into them.
My eyes on his, I slowly slide off the car seat onto my knees in the large expanse of floor between the seats. His cock jumps to life in his pants, straining against his zipper, begging for attention as I begin to crawl toward him.
“That’s it, love,” he encourages. “You look so good when you obey.”
Some part of me revolts against this, but I understand it’s a game.
If I were truly uncomfortable and didn’t want to do this, Wylan wouldn’t force me.
Despite how it looks, I’m completely in control here, and that thought is what makes me move.
I keep my eyes on his, making sure I see every reaction, every twitch of his face, as I move.
The car hits a bump, but because I’m so low to the floor, it doesn’t throw me.
It only takes a few seconds to cross the distance between the seats, but it feels like a lifetime.
A lifetime of waiting for this man to show me this side of him.
I lean up on my knees, bracing myself on his thighs as I look up into his eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask.
His hand snaps out and grabs a fistful of my hair, holding tight enough to make me gasp in pain. “We haven’t even scratched the surface of what I want from you, crumpet,” he warns. “Before we begin, we should get a few things straight.”
“Okay,” I rasp, my hands clenching tightly in his thighs. “What things?”
“I’m a ghost,” he answers. “I don’t exist in your world. Not really. I can’t give you a lot of things, and you shouldn’t expect them from me. As far as this all goes, I might as well be fictional. Do you understand?”
I nod. “I understand.”
“I have no roots,” he continues. “I may be here now because the pay is good, but I don’t grow roots. I’m incapable of it. We’re going to fuck, but no matter how good this pussy is, I won’t stay. I never do.”
I swallow thickly, his words making my chest squeeze. “I never assumed I’d be good enough to make you stay, Wylan.”
His eyes darken. “See, now you’ve confused my words.” His fingers tighten in my hair, and I let out a sound of discomfort that immediately has his hold softening. “I never said you weren’t worth staying for. I only said I’m incapable of it.”
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”
But my answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him. He reaches between us and rubs at his cock in his pants before popping his fly and releasing it, letting it bob between us.
“I don’t like that answer,” he growls.
“What answer am I supposed to give?” I ask honestly. “You’ve told me how it will go. I accept. What else do I say?”
“I don’t know,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Best not to speak then.”
He forces my head down with rough hands, the head of his cock pressing against my lips.
A bead of precum hovers there and he smears it across my bottom lip, groaning at the feeling of it before his other hand snaps out and grabs my jaw.
He squeezes until I pop open my mouth at the pain.
The moment my lips part, he presses inside, shoving his cock so deep, my back arches with my gag.
He immediately pulls out to give me air, but presses back in before I’m fully prepared.
“Your throat is like fucking heaven,” he groans as he fucks up into it, as he uses my hair as leverage to stroke himself with my throat.
My fingers dig into his thighs as I breathe through my nose, letting him claim me in the way I’ve wanted to be claimed since we met.
There’s just something intoxicating about Wylan that I can’t ignore, this lethal care he moves through life with.
He says he won’t stay, and I expect no less from an assassin, but I can’t get the image of him wearing a tutu and a tiara from my mind.
I’m an idiot, because despite Wylan’s warning, my heart already decided it wants him. It’s decided it wants them all. I just don’t know when it made that decision.
“What is it about you?” Wylan growls as he shoves my face into his pelvic bone. I gag and tears blink into my eyes, but still, he holds me there. “You’re all I bloody think about.”
He releases my head and jerks me up from the floor before I can properly center myself. His hands grab my hips before he shoves my dress around them and jerks me onto his lap. The moment he realizes I’m not wearing underwear is the moment he loses all control.
“Fuck,” he growls through gritted teeth.
He reaches between us, grabbing his cock and running it through the wetness between my thighs.
He groans in arousal before forcing me down onto him violently.
There’s no slow warm up. There’s no easing into me.
Wylan impales me and immediately grinds me against him, drawing a moan from both our lips.
“If I’m going to leave, I best make sure you never forget me,” he groans against my collarbone.
We both start to move, fucking each other like we’re running out of time, like any day now, he’ll disappear like the ghost he is.
And I suppose that’s accurate. If the job is done, there’s no reason for him to stay.
I could wake up tomorrow and he could be gone, no trace of him left as if he’d never been here.
But my heart would know. That’s where he’ll still be.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I pant as he fucks me. “I want you to stay.”
“I’m not a tree, love,” he moans. “No roots.”
“Please,” I beg, my body winding tight.
His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he doesn’t know if I’m begging him to orgasm or if I’m begging him to stay. I think I’m begging for both. I think I’m desperate for this not to be the one and only time we do this.
His hands run across my skin, up under my dress to caress my ass, on my hip to force me to move as he pleases, urging me to fuck him faster.
“Please,” I say again, breathy, and this time, I know I’m begging him to stay. “Please.”
He doesn’t answer, only picks up his pace until we’re both writhing with our approaching releases. My body shatters around him and I shake as I cry out in ecstasy. He grunts as he strokes inside me, as my body clamps down on his, and he follows me over the cliff, filling me with his release.
Tears flicker in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. Now isn’t the time for tears. I can’t cry in front of a ghost.
He wraps me in his arms, tugging me close. His words are so soft, I barely hear them. Still, they make my heart shatter into a million pieces.
“If there were anyone who could make me stay, it would be you,” he whispers. “But I can’t. I won’t. I don’t dare put you and Elsie in such danger.”
I can’t stop the tears this time, but he only wipes them away and holds me, resigned to our fate. Even if it kills us.
Even if he can never be anything other than a haunting from a passing ghost.