Epilogue
LAYLA
Three days later…
All I see is black.
The room stinks like wet and mold.
My heart is pounding like a drum in my ears. I can feel my pulse in my fingers.
My breath is hot and staggered beneath the hood covering my head. I can’t say how long it’s been since I’ve been here…I can’t even say where here is. I only know it’s not my uncle’s, and it’s not my apartment.
I do know that it’s been several days, and I haven’t seen Taylor–or I guess I should say Ryder–since what happened back in Mexico.
I keep waking up expecting to be back in bed beside him, or to feel his touch on my shoulder, or to smell his comforting scent as he wraps me in his arms. Instead, I’ve felt other men’s hands on my wrists, leading me from this room to the bathroom, and then back to this chair to be tied up again like some kind of criminal.
Did Taylor’s mission fail?
Have I been captured by a competing cartel?
When he removed the gag from my mouth, I didn’t scream. I was terrified, and although he’d admitted to lying to me, I wanted to believe him. I wanted it so badly. The ache in my heart was unbearable, and I was desperately clinging to any hope that he might still actually be the man I fell in love with.
As terrified as I was, and as betrayed as I felt, my love for him overpowered everything, and I told him I forgave him. I told him I would never speak of what happened, what he was about to do, and that as long as we were together, I would be happy.
He smiled. I cried. We kissed. We made love. And then he took his gun and went downstairs.
And that was the last I saw of him.
Less than an hour later, a group of men burst in, threw this bag over my face, and carried me to a car, and I was driven away.
“Will someone tell me what’s going on!?” I howl, the force of my scream burning my throat and lungs. “Where the hell am I!?”
I realize now that I made the wrong decision.
I never should have kept my mouth shut.
I know nothing of the spy world, but I’m starting to realize I’ve been played. I’m just a single cog in the larger machine of his plan, and he never meant anything he said to me. He never loved me. He simply used me for sex and to get to my uncle. And that’s it.
He’s not coming back to save me.
I’m on my own now.
And as tears begin to spill from my eyes and wet the cloth draped over my face, I feel my heart begin to break.
“Ryder…” I weep.
I shouldn’t cry. I shouldn’t be sad about him not being here to save me, to protect me like he said was his mission in life. But I am.
I’m lower than I’ve ever been in my life.
Being cheated on is nothing compared to this brutal, icy betrayal.
I let myself believe he was for real. I let myself love him without constraint, and truly believed he loved me back. Every time I looked at him, I felt serene, tranquil, cherished. I was in love with his every touch, the way his words felt when he spoke to me and how he held me like I was the most important thing in his life. And the way he gazed into my eyes with such intensity made my heart feel full and alive.
Now it’s just empty. I’m empty.
“Hey!” I scream again. “Get me the fuck out of here!”
A harsh screech of metal pierces my ears as a door opens somewhere, flooding whatever room I’m in with a harsh light that nearly penetrates my head covering. I hear the strong sound of footsteps approaching and try not to panic.
“Miss Rodriguez,” a gruff male voice growls. “What is your association with the man known as Taylor Jordan?”
“Taylor Jordan?” I reply defiantly. “Never heard of him.”
Why am I still protecting him? I have no rational reason to. Not after what he’s done to me.
That’s a silly question for me to ask myself, however. I know the answer.
I still love him.
“Don’t lie to us!” another man snaps. “We know you were seeing each other. We need you tell us his whereabouts now!”
“Go to hell!” I snap back. Their voices sound American. Definitely not Mexican, which lowers the likelihood of them being cartel goons. I decide to take a risk. “You can’t hold me here! I know my rights! Get me my phone call!”
“Give us Taylor Jordan’s whereabouts, and you can have your phone call. Until then, we’re holding you here.”
“Like hell you are!” I rage. “I told you, I don’t know any Taylor Jordan!”
Anger and fury pours out of me. I’m defending a man who’s not even here to defend me. A man who claimed to be my bodyguard but let me be captured by whoever these men are.
I feel more betrayed than ever, but my love for him is higher than I ever believed possible. Two contradictory emotions working overtime to destroy me.
“The man you are protecting is dangerous,” a voice rasps. “He’s a threat to national security. Everything he’s said to you was a lie. Just give us something on him to help us find him and you can go. We promise, Miss Rodriguez.”
“Bullshit!” I snap. But is it?
If Taylor lied to me about our relationship–if he staged my attack just so he could come to my rescue–why should I believe anything he said back at my uncle’s? Maybe he’s a mercenary hired by one of the other cartels to take out their competition.
I’m sobbing now.
My mind is spinning.
Taylor is the problem. He’s the reason I’m here and the reason I’m falling apart, but he’s also the solution. I need him to make this all go away. To make me all better.
But he’s gone.
“Miss Rodriguez–”
“Go away!” I sob. “I’m not telling you anything.”
I hang my head, the zip-ties on my wrists biting into my skin as I lean forward, exhausted from my lack of sleep. There’s silence, then I hear the men walking away. I gasp for breath in a futile attempt to calm myself, fighting back terrible thoughts of what my future holds. But my heart is beating so hard it’s as though it’s trying to pound its way out of my ribcage.
I hear another set of footsteps and almost hope it’s someone coming to kill me. At least then I’d be put out of my misery. I know I’ll never see Taylor again at this point, so what do I have left to live for?
A painful sob rises up in my throat, and I let it out, a choked cry as the footsteps come closer.
They slow, simple scratches on the hard floor.
I feel someone’s presence standing close, then a hand grasps the bag and lifts it off my head.
The light is blinding, and I have to close my eyes immediately to keep the pain at bay. Then I hear his voice.
“It’s me, Layla. I’m here.”
My heart leaps.
“Taylor!” I gasp. “I mean–Ryder!?”
I open my eyes, my vision blurred and foggy as I stare up at the enormous figure standing in front of me. I can’t make out his face, but I don’t have to. I recognize the body, the proportions, the way he stands. And now, without the bag covering my nose, I smell his scent.
“Yes.” He nods. “It’s me, sweetheart.”
He steps behind me, and I hear a snap as he cuts my bindings. I fall forward, but he catches me with his powerful arms. Without thinking, I pound my fists against his chest, letting out the sadness, the anger, the pain of being deceived. And Ryder doesn’t even try to stop me.
“That’s it,” he coos. “It’s okay. I deserve it, my love.”
Joy and despair overtake me, and my legs give out, but again, Ryder catches me and holds me up. He pulls me close and embraces me, kissing me gently on the forehead as we both breathe each other in.
“I’m so sorry, Layla. There was nothing I could do. The agency had to test you to be sure they could trust you. It was the only way they’d allow us to be together.”
My jaw drops. I look up at him, my vision still blurred but better. I can make out his handsome face now, and see an emotion I’ve never seen before from him: shame.
“This…whole thing was a test?” I ask, shocked. “A loyalty test?”
Ryder nods sadly. “Yes. But it’s okay, Layla. You passed.”
Five years later…
I glance up at the door, excitement rippling through my body.
He should be here any minute. He said he was coming. He promised. And Ryder has never broken a promise he’s made to me. Not once.
I’ve been running the shop all day, training Cammie, the new girl, on how to use the register and how to organize the watercolor display. I haven’t seen my husband since I left the house this morning, but I know he’s somewhere close. Watching, waiting. Never letting me out of his sight.
My lust for him never wanes. All day, every day, I want him.
I can’t stop thinking about the way he looks at me, those strong arms, his broad shoulders, and those rough hands gripping my waist and scouring my body. I love how much he wants me. He loves how much I want him. We’re a couple of lascivious animals who can’t keep our hands off each other.
We were transferred into the CIA’s version of witness protection five years ago. We left Texas behind for a tiny, snowy town in Utah called Crag Valley. Ryder left the agency to become my full-time bodyguard. Knowing he’s out there, his eyes on me, a gun tucked into his belt, gave me the strength and encouragement I needed to open my own art supply store, which has been a phenomenal success.
I won’t lie; it took me a couple weeks to fully recover from what happened down in Mexico. As hard as I tried, the feeling of betrayal was still there, so I fought it by keeping myself basically stuck to him at all times. I clung to him like a little spider monkey, going everywhere he went as though I was glued directly to him. All we did was make love, eat, sleep, and make love again. Soon, our love overcame any leftover reticence I had, and I was completely and totally his once more.
Some people might disagree with our relationship if they knew how it all began. How we became a couple. But I don’t care. So my husband used some slightly unconventional methods to get close to me. So what? Maybe his obsession with me goes beyond what people consider “normal,” but who’s to say what “normal” really is?
All that matters to me is our love. It’s fierce, passionate, and grows stronger every day. I know he watches me sleep. I know he steals my panties for his personal stash. I know he watches me wherever I go. And I’m okay with it. My love for him will never fade.
I hear the bell at the door ring and look up to see Ryder step into the shop. Cammie looks up from the register, and I see the flash in her eyes. She thinks he’s hot. Most women would get jealous at her reaction. Possessive. But I’m fine with it. She’d be crazy not to think he’s hot. He’s the definition of it. And I know that he’s completely loyal to me. So what do I have to worry about?
Nothing. He’s mine, and I’m his.
“May I help you, sir?” I ask before Cammie gets the chance.
“Yes, I was looking for a specific color oil paint. Aubergine violet. Do you have it?”
The gruff strength in his voice ignites me like an engine starting. It’s only just after lunch, yet I’ve been missing him terribly since this morning.
“I believe we do,” I reply, coming out from behind the counter. “But I think it’s in the back room. We haven’t stocked the shelves with it just yet. If you’d like me to show you…?”
Cammie eyes me, wondering what in the world I’m doing. I just ignore her.
“That would be great.” Ryder smiles.
I sway my hips as I lead him to the door to the back room. Showing off for him, even in a minute way such as this, turns me on like crazy. I guess I just love his eyes on me.
“Right this way,” I tell him as I open the door. I barely have time to close it behind me before he’s on me.
He slides one hand up my shirt to cup my breast and uses the other to twist the lock, securing our privacy.
“I told you, didn’t I?” he rasps into my ear. “You’d have a back room one day that I’d use to take you whenever I wanted you.”
He presses his lips against the soft skin of my neck, warming me with the heat from his breath. “I’ve missed you all day. I hate not being able to see you.”
“I’ve been watching you this whole time,” he says with a devilish smile.
“You bastard,” I joke.
“Hey, I have it harder than you.”
With a single tug, he pulls my pants down to my knees. I gasp. “How do you figure?”
“Well,” he says slowly as he slips a hand between my tingling thighs, “I’ve had to watch you all day while you work. It’s like the world’s worst tease.”
“Yeah?” I whimper as he slips a finger gently into my entrance. Ryder can be so powerful and rough, but he can also be so soft and sensual with his every caress. “Have you been edging out there in the truck?”
He grinds against me, and I feel his cock, hard like a steel fist, pressing against my lower stomach. “For hours,” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, little girl. Because I know I won’t be able to last right now.”
“That’s okay, Daddy.” I smile as he pulls out his erection and presses it between my legs. “All I need is you. Whenever you’ll give it to me.”
“I’ll give you a marathon fuck when you get home tonight,” he says into my ear as he thrusts inside me. I bite down onto his shoulder to keep myself from crying out. Cammie may suspect what’s going on back here, but she doesn’t need my confirmation.
“Oh, fuck yes,” I mewl as the wonderful, golden sensation radiates out from my sex as he begins to pound me. I feel the stretch from his girth, just like I did the first time we made love. He ruts deep inside me and engulfs my lips with his mouth, pressing his tongue against mine in a primal embrace.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and grasp his muscled back with my fingertips, clinging to him as he jackhammers my hole with a feverish fury.
“It’s so good, Daddy,” I whine, already close to what I know will be a glorious release. “You like it?”
“I love it,” he snarls, fucking me faster. I feel him swell inside me, stretching me even more. “You’re mine, baby. You belong to me.”
“Yes.” I nod as I reach down and cup his balls with one hand. “Yours, Daddy. Now give me your cum. Show me I belong to you.”
“God, you know just how I love it,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Of course I do. And you know just how I love it too.”
“We’re made for each other.”
“Yes,” I moan. “Now give it to me.”
“Good girl,” he gasps, his cock flexing inside me. “Good…girl.”
His body shakes, and he pins me back against the door as his cock flexes and I feel the hot, sticky spray of his cum as he fills me completely. I go off with him, burying my head in his chest as his release spills down my thighs, which is such a massive turn-on.
We writhe together in mutual passion, in the darkness of the back room of the art supply store that I own.
“I love you, Ryder,” I whimper.
“I love you too, Layla.”
Our life is a fantasy. A fantasy that Ryder helped me forge from absolutely nothing. And if the last five years have taught me anything, it’s that there’s nothing in the world that he and I can’t conquer together.
The End
Stalking His Prey
Penelope. My angel. My painful addiction.
My obsession with her began two months ago. Since then, it’s dug deeper and deeper into my soul like an immovable anchor. I’ve been watching her, biding my time, loving her from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to act.
Does this make me a stalker? Absolutely.
Do I care? Absolutely not.
Penelope is the one to blame. She has a hidden desire she thinks I don’t know about it, but I’ve got a plan to give her what she needs. And when I do, it will make her mine forever.
Author’s Note: This is an over-the-top, insta-love, deliciously smutty romance featuring an obsessive, mouth-watering alpha, and the stalking of an innocent heroine. This is pure escapism, packed with steamy scenes, intense love, and a glorious HEA. If you are looking for fun and filthy, you found it!