Chapter Twenty-Nine Put Your Phones on Silent, People
West
“And…you’re dead, mon ami,” Joseph announces, his eyes glued to his watch. “Run the formula again, Qwerty. This one’s no good.”
While I return to the beginning of the maze we’ve created, Adelina quickly types into her computer, the fans inside whirring to the max as it generates an alternative route for me to take.
It’s nothing short of impressive. The program she’s using is a modified version of the ones Micromouse maze solvers use to get from point A to point B in the shortest possible distance and time.
Naturally, I don’t have four wheels or sensors to tell me which way to go, nor the capability to make split-second decisions, but by adjusting the algorithm Adelina’s been able to shave my time down from five minutes to three minutes and fifty-seven seconds.
Still not fast enough, though.
I hate to say it, but I think the problem might be me.
We’ve been at it all morning. I’ve worked up a sweat, and my lungs burn with a vengeance. I’m not out of shape, per se, but this is definitely the most intensive workout I’ve had in years. No matter how fast I run, no matter how hard I push myself, I can’t get my time below three minutes.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Diana suggests. “No sense in killing yourself before the big day. Wouldn’t want you blowing an ankle, now would we?”
“You can go,” I wheeze. Good God, am I about to keel over? This wouldn’t have been an issue in my early twenties, but now my joints ache when the weather gets a little too cold and my back hurts just getting out of bed. “I’m not ready to quit yet,” I say once I’ve caught my breath.
“Suit yourself,” Diana says pointedly. I can tell she has doubts. It’s not very encouraging.
By the time I pick myself up off the floor, I find Joseph hovering near Adelina’s computer station. He leans casually against her desk, a hand on his hip. I can’t quite make out what they’re saying to one another, so I have to will my legs to carry me over to get a better listen.
“A buddy of mine says the casino’s security system is super lax,” Joseph tells her. “If you work your magic, we could pull a fast one on them and make away with upward of—”
“Sorry,” Adelina interjects. “I’m just not interested.”
“Promise me you’ll at least think about it?”
She false-starts, eventually shrugging a shoulder. “Sure.”
“Wonderful,” Joseph says, rubbing Adelina on the upper arm. I’m sure it’s a friendly gesture, but something in my gut clenches at the sight. I thought I told him to leave her out of whatever half-baked scheme he’s cooking up.
I make my way over and clear my throat. “All good?”
Joseph nods, chuckling as he leaves, giving me a wide-eyed look that is too innocent to be convincing.
Jack pulled the same move when I caught her trying to sneak ice cream bars after breakfast. He makes his way over to Diana, speaking in low murmurs before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Diana rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t look too put off by the gesture.
They leave through the hangar’s main exit, and I can’t help but wonder what they could possibly have to talk about.
“He isn’t bothering you, is he?” I ask Adelina.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she replies. On her computer screen, her program is recalculating in the background, tracing a new route through the virtual model of the villa, which I will have to duplicate to the best of my ability in real life.
“The problem I think you’re running into is the stairs leading into the bunker,” she says, analyzing the code. “Do you think you could jump the distance? It’s only twenty steps.”
“Only twenty?” I grimace. “I’d rather not blow out my knees, thank you.”
“I think you need a little motivation.”
“You think taking down Berruci isn’t motivation enough?”
Adelina gives me a mischievous grin. “Let’s race,” she says. “Loser buys dinner.” She stands up from behind her desk, shrugging off her jacket. Adelina doesn’t look particularly fast. I could easily outpace her in a pinch, and yet she doesn’t seem the least bit deterred.
“I don’t think this is a very fair matchup,” I say.
“Scared you’ll lose?”
A smile stretches across my face. “I’m warning you now that I’m a very sore winner.”
“I guess we have that in common. First one to the door and back?”
“Fine by me,” I say. “Are we going to count down from three, or—”
Before I have a chance to finish my sentence, Adelina reaches up and grabs hold of my shirt, pulling me down to catch me in a bruising kiss.
Startled, I instinctively grip her by the hips, enjoying the way she hums contentedly against me.
Thoughts stumble out of my head, leaving nothing but a blank slate. What was it we were doing again?
I get my answer when she suddenly peels away and runs. Adelina cackles wildly as she makes her way toward the makeshift villa, weaving in, out and around the metal trusses we’ve used in lieu of proper walls. I laugh and give chase. She has a head start, but I’m gaining quickly.
While she sees it as a race, I treat it very much as a game of tag.
Adelina may have caught me off guard, but I’ve been maneuvering through these faux halls all day.
The moment I have her within my grasp, I circle her waist with my arms and hold her close.
I swing her around, lifting her off her feet as she giggles breathlessly.
We stumble together, ending up on the cold concrete floor of the hangar in a tangle of arms and legs.
She ends up on top of me—not that I mind in the slightest—her hands pressed against my chest for stability. I adore the flush of her cheeks and the way the corners of her eyes crinkle when she smiles.
Has she always been this beautiful? Adelina is very much like the night sky.
Dark and cold and something to be wary of.
But when she smiles like this, it’s like gazing at the dawn, when the first golden rays peek out from behind the horizon to show you that there was never anything to fear.
That the night sky can bring with it its own quiet splendor.
I wonder if I should put a stop to this before I’m too far gone.
Once we’ve dealt with Berruci, Adelina will return home to Vancouver, and I’ll need to go home and take care of Jack.
Adelina has her life, and I have mine. She said it herself—this is one and done.
I’ll likely never see her again, and allowing myself to indulge is only setting myself up for disappointment.
Yet I can’t seem to help myself. I bring a hand up to trace my fingers over the shape of her grin, sweeping them over her cheeks to admire the softness of her skin.
I comb my hand through her short hair before pulling her down to capture her lips with mine.
Her skin is delightfully hot to the touch.
What once was a race has now evolved into a wrestling match.
It’s clear she enjoys being on top, pinning me on my back while she straddles my hips.
And while I would normally indulge her, she isn’t the only one who wants to play this game.
Locking my arms around her, I throw my weight up and over, rolling her onto her back so I can be the one on top.
Her soft oh gives way to a light giggle as I deepen our kiss.
I’m tempted to spend the rest of the day like this—maybe even the next week, if I’m able—exploring all the different ways I can earn her gasps of pleasure.
“Touch me,” she pleads.
Who am I to deny her?
Propping myself on my elbow beside her, I unzip the front of her jeans and slide my hand beneath the band of her underwear, relishing the way she grinds against my touch. Nothing delights me more than the way her mouth falls open and her pupils blow wide as I draw tight circles against her.
I take my time to tease, to explore, applying pressure one moment only to ease up the next. Adelina’s hips buck against my hand, searching—begging for more of that sweet friction. I lay claim to her mouth, take command of it, savoring the rush that comes when she whimpers against my lips.
“West…” she moans languidly, trembling with pleasure beneath my hand. A light sweat coats her forehead, her cheeks a lovely pink. Adelina looks at me from beneath heavy eyelids, her lips parting as she pants, hot breath ricocheting off my cheeks.
“God, the sounds you make,” I groan.
“Please don’t stop,” she whines. Breathless. Desperate. Filthy.
“You’re soaked, Adelina. Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” she rasps. “West, I think I’m going to—”
“Not yet,” I tell her firmly. “I’m not done playing with you. Understand?”
Although her eyes widen in brief surprise, Adelina quickly nods. “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
I easily slip a finger inside her, her sensitive walls clenching around my knuckles.
Adelina whimpers, ferociously gripping onto my shirt as I search for that one spot I know will make her see stars.
“Look at you,” I murmur, crooking my finger again and again.
I add another finger and enjoy the way her eyes roll back. “T’es trop bonne.” You’re so damn hot.
Our kisses are bruising, our skin feverish. It’s a pleasure like no other to see her unravel, to have her cling to me like the world’s about to fall apart. I think Adelina’s on track to becoming a problematic obsession of mine.
“You’re getting so tight,” I say against her lips. “You fucking need this, don’t you?”
Adelina moans my name. At least, I think she does. Her ragged breathing makes it difficult to get a word out.
“What a pretty little mess you are,” I muse. “Do you like my fingers that much?”
“West—West, I can’t take it anymore.”
“I can tell. Go on, mon tournesol. Let me see you come.”
She writhes against me, coming undone around my fingers with an impassioned cry. Adelina is a sight to behold, the air around us crackling. I wrap her up in my arms as she kisses me sweetly, leisurely dragging her hands through my hair.
“Oh my God,” she sighs.
“You sounded like you enjoyed yourself.”
Adelina laughs lightly. I swear just the sound is enough to get me high. “Your turn,” she insists.
“Let me take you back to the hotel,” I say, nipping at her earlobe. “We can have more fun there.”
“You’re so forward, Mr. Porter,” she says with a wry grin, throwing my words back at me.
A phone rings, the sound piercing through the tension in the air. Adelina and I both ignore it…only for it to go off again. Either it’s an incredibly persistent telemarketer, or someone is having an emergency that desperately requires our attention. I really hope it’s just a wrong number.
“I think it’s mine,” she says apologetically.
“Ignore it?” I suggest hopefully.
Adelina laughs, rising to her feet. “It might be my sister. It could be important.”
I remain seated there on the concrete floor, perfectly happy to catch my breath. I’m a gentleman, after all. It wouldn’t be comfortable to walk around with my very obvious problem on full display.
I suppose I should be grateful that someone felt the need to interrupt, because at the rate things are going…
Well, after what Adelina told me about her letdown of a first experience, she deserves better than a romp in some repurposed airplane hangar.
I want to give her a bed of fluffy pillows and warm blankets.
Maybe a hot soak and a nice dinner. I want to make her feel like a queen, not some quick fuck in the heat of the moment. She deserves better than that.
And I could give it all to her if she asked.
It occurs to me then that her phone hasn’t actually stopped ringing. It continues to blare, an unwelcome sound echoing off the high walls of our safe house. I turn to see Adelina with her phone in hand, but she doesn’t pick up. Instead, she stares at the screen, paler than I’ve ever seen her.
I stand, a creeping sensation crawls its way up my spine. “Adelina?”
She swallows. Is she about to be sick?
“Adelina, what’s wrong?”
She manages a shaky inhale. “It’s my mother.”