Page 52 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Elliot

“Got him,” I say into my radio, staring down at the body from my hiding place next to the advanced trail. “Let’s deal with the body and get out of here.”

It doesn’t take too much time. Sparrow doesn’t care what happens to the body—just wanted the man dead. So we bury him a decent ways off the trail, making sure not to leave any blood behind. Someone will find him in the spring. There’s no way we could get him in the ground, so he’s just deep in the snow.

We’re back to our cabin before nine, packing up and getting ready to leave. Unfortunately, the earliest flight opening is around midnight tonight. We’re all impatient to get back home, but it’s the best we can do.

There’s no reason to stick around at the cabin, and I think all of us want to get to some place with cell service so we can call Wren. She’s off today, and as long as she’s awake, we should be able to talk to her.

We check into a hotel near the airport under the fake names we used to reserve the cabin. None of us have any desire to do any exploring around here. The fewer cameras—and people—that catch our faces, the better.

After we dump our stuff in our room, I turn my phone on and set it on the desk. It’ll take a while for any messages and notifications I got to come through, so I figure I’ll let it sit for a couple minutes.

Besides, we have some celebrating to do. Well, it’s not just celebrating. Sex after a job is a way for us to release the leftover tension and stress we usually end up with.

I turn to the bed. Oliver is already sitting on the edge, a lazy grin on his face. I straddle him, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. Instantly, his gaze turns needy, and his lips part in anticipation of a kiss. I give him what he wants, gently nipping at his bottom lip.

When we pull away, I notice that Rhett has settled into the chair in the corner. His shoulders are sagging, and his breathing is slow.

“Not joining us?” I ask.

“Happy to watch.” The barest hint of a smirk flickers across his face.

“That’s fine by me.” I enjoy having an audience, and while it doesn’t get Oliver off, he doesn’t mind.

I crawl off the bed and move to my bag. After digging around for a second, I pull out lube and some ropes. When Oliver sees them, his eyes light up.

“Get up,” I say.

He stands without hesitation.

After tossing the ropes onto the bed, I pull Oliver’s shirt over his head. Then I take my time, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, across his chest, and then down his stomach. Gently, I bite at the skin right by his waistband.

Oliver grunts. “I was hoping that since you have Wren to tease now, you wouldn’t need to do it so much to me.”

I grin at him as I yank his pants down. “Quite the opposite. Now I get to do it twice as much.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Pretending we don’t like things we actually love?” I stand, smiling slyly.

He starts to respond, but I pick him up and throw him onto the bed before he can. With a laugh, he props himself up on his elbows.

“Get up against the headboard,” I say.

He obeys, settling against the pillows. I have him spread out his arms so I can tie his wrists to the headboard, double-checking that the ropes aren’t too tight as I do.

“I love having you like this,” I murmur, sitting back and looking at him. “I can do whatever I want to you, and you just have to take it.”

He whines, and it pulls a smirk from me. I take his dick in my hand, stroking lightly. Too lightly. But the glare Oliver gives me is half-hearted at best. He knows I’ll make it good for him. Always do.

After a minute, he starts squirming and letting out desperate noises. “Ell, please. I need you.”

Moving closer, I guide my dick so it’s lined up with his, taking both of them in my hand. Oliver groans as I stroke up and down. After a second, I squirt on some lube so everything slides nice and easy, and then I get back into position.

“Christ,” Oliver groans. His eyes are closed, and he’s resting his head against the headboard. Everything about him is… fucking perfect. His skin, his hair, the lines and edges and curves of his body. Completely, utterly perfect. And all mine.

“I love you.”

It takes me a second to realize the words come from my mouth. I’m supposed to be teasing Oliver right now. Saying the right things that heighten the experience for both of us, not getting all sappy. But when the feelings hit, I can’t really stop them. And having Oliver tied up is one of the greatest reminders that he trusts me fully.

It’s important to me—knowing they all trust me. It’s one of the things that should automatically come with loving someone, but I know from firsthand experience that’s not always the case. And fuck, it’s painful as hell.

Oliver opens his eyes slowly. His eyebrows furrow in a look of cautious worry.

Fuck. I completely ruined the moment. Goddammit.

“I love you too, Ell.” He says it gently. Carefully, like I’m on the verge of tears. Shit, maybe I am.

I blow out a breath. “I’m sorry. I—”

Oliver raises an eyebrow in a challenge, making me stop. “You’re sorry you love me?”

“Fuck. No, I didn’t mean it like that. Ol, of course—”

He’s smiling. “Shut up and kiss me, Ell.”

I do, fitting my mouth to his. Now I’m the desperate one. All of these thoughts and feelings came out of nowhere, and I just want to get back to making Oliver feel good.

“You could never be sorry for loving me,” he teases once I pull away. “I’m too cute. Wren says so.”

That makes me smile. Oliver has always been the one who’s able to lighten my mood with a few sentences.

He thrusts into my hand, his dick rubbing against mine in a way that makes us both groan. I move my hand up, squeezing lightly when I reach the tip of our cocks before making my way back down.

“Fuck.” I kiss Oliver again. It’s sloppy and unfocused because the sensations are too fucking good, but he eats it up anyway.

I set an even pace with my hand, absorbing Oliver’s moans with my lips against his. I slide my tongue into his mouth, meeting his gently.

“So good, Ell,” he pants.

Every noise that comes out of his mouth drives me closer to finishing. My phone goes off, but the sound barely registers in my mind.

“Come on me,” Oliver says breathlessly. “Cover me with your cum. Please.”

“Shit.” His words send me tumbling over the edge. I have to grab his shoulder to brace myself as ropes of cum shoot out and hit his stomach.

My phone goes off again, and for a moment I’m worried that something is wrong. But the thought is so fleeting that it’s gone the second it pops into my head.

“Fuck yes,” Oliver says, staring down at his stomach.

I have to fight with my body to stay upright as I pull my dick from my hand and continue stroking Oliver. His balls are tight, so he’s not far behind me.

“Look at me,” I murmur.

He does, licking his lips in between harsh breaths. His eyes are on fire in the best way, and I savor how alive he looks in the moment. Then I pick up the pace of my hand.

“Ell,” he gasps.

“Make a mess, O. Come everywhere.”

“Fuck.” Oliver thrusts into my hand. “Ell. Elliot!” He lets out something between a high-pitched moan and a shout. His back arches, and then he’s coming all over my hand and his stomach. By the time he’s finished, he’s limp and panting, only held up by the restraints.

I kiss him. “Good boy.”

“Goddamn,” he moans.

After cleaning off my hand, I untie him and start cleaning him up with tissues. My phone goes off again, and the worry I felt earlier comes back tenfold.

“Jesus, Ell,” Rhett says, grabbing it from the desk. “Sounds like someone’s desperate to talk to you.”

“Can you see if it’s important?” I finish cleaning up Oliver before slipping my boxers and pants back on.

“Finn called you a couple times,” Rhett replies. “And then…” He goes silent, tapping the screen and staring down at it. The content look on his face fades.

Noises start coming from my phone, like he’s playing a video. And then I hear the unmistakable sound of Wren shouting.

“Rhett?” I say.

He doesn’t respond.

Shit.

Stepping up next to him, I peer down at my phone. Then I yank it from Rhett’s hands, scrolling through the messages he has pulled up.

Unknown Number: This is Jordan Williams. She’ll pay for what you’ve done.

“What’s going on?” Oliver says. He’s already mostly dressed. “Please tell me that wasn’t Wren’s voice.”

I scroll to the most recent video Jordan sent and play it.

Please still be alive. Please, love.

Watching Wren struggle for air is excruciating. And when she stops fighting while her head is still underwater, a panic I’ve only felt a few times before spreads through my entire body.

I feel Oliver come up beside me just as Jordan yanks Wren’s head above water. “Oh my god,” he murmurs.

“You’re learning,” Jordan says to Wren. “Now look at the camera.” Once she’s staring at us, her expression terrified and exhausted, Jordan shouts, “Look at her. Soaked to the bone, freezing, and half-drowned. This is what happens when you fuck with the wrong people. I hope you learn your lesson.”

Wren takes a deep breath, like she knows she’s about to go back under, before blurting, “I’m in a house sur-”

Her sentence is cut off by Jordan shoving her head underwater again. She doesn’t fight him, just lets it happen. And when he makes no move to let her up, it becomes hard for me to breathe.

Hang on, Wren. Please. I’m so sorry.

“He’s going to kill her,” Oliver whispers. One of his hands is gripping my arm painfully, but I don’t shake him off.

When Jordan finally pulls her up, I have to blink back tears of relief. But almost immediately, he forces her back under.

“No,” I murmur. My free hand clenches into a fist involuntarily, my fingernails digging into my palm.

Jordan does it again. And again.

By the time he releases Wren, she looks like she can barely keep herself upright. Two men grab her and drag her out of view. My heart clenches when I lose sight of her, but at least she’s still breathing.

She’s still alive. We can still find her.

Jordan comes to stand in front of the camera. The smile on his face is sickening. “I’m going to find you. All of you. And once I have you here, I’m going to kill her in front of you. Slowly. Painfully. You’ll learn not to mess with me.”

Please be a dream. I just need to wake up. This can’t be real.

The video ends. All three of us stare at my phone in silence. My throat feels clogged up, and when I manage to swallow, it aches.

It’s not until Rhett speaks that it’s solidified in my mind that this is very, very real.

“We’re going to find her,” he says lowly. “And we’re not going to stop until we do.”

“We can’t wait until tonight.” My mind is already going a mile a minute, working through all the different ways we can get back sooner. “Fuck. Give me a minute.”

I pull up the number for my contact at the airport, pacing as the phone rings.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I need that plane off the ground in under an hour. What’s your price to make it happen? A hundred thousand? Two? Three? I need to get home now.”

“You’d pay that much just to get back twelve hours earlier?”

“I’d sell my fucking soul if I could.”

“Hey, whatever. It’s your money. How about four?”

“Consider it done. We’ll be there soon.”

I yank a shirt over my head and grab my bag. Thankfully, we didn’t really get a chance to unpack anything.

Downstairs, the girl at the counter is confused as to why we’re checking out so quickly, but thankfully she doesn’t ask a lot of questions.

On the way to the airport, I call Finn.

“Thank fuck,” he says. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach you for a couple more days.”

“Tell me everything you know.”

“Wren called me last night, but she was gone by the time I got to the apartment. There was a bloody knife on the floor, but that was the only evidence of a break-in. The apartment complex’s security cameras were wiped. I’ve been trying to figure out who took her, but I don’t have a lot to go on.”

Fuck. Did she get cut? All the videos Jordan sent were either poorly lit or at awkward angles. It’s possible she has a knife wound that we couldn’t see. If it gets infected… shit. We need to get to her now.

“It was Jordan Williams,” I say. “He’s keeping her somewhere.”

“Torture?”

“Drowning.”

“Shit. She’s still alive?”

“For now. He wants us there when he kills her.”

“Christ. Elliot, I’m so sorry.”

Despite how much I’d love to blame all of this on Finn, I know that wouldn’t be fair. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t’ve thought she’d be safe in her apartment.”

My reasoning was that it’s a fairly secure building. There are cameras, and on top of that, there are plenty of potential witnesses around. It’s not the ideal spot to try to kidnap someone from. But apparently, Jordan is willing to be reckless. Hopefully that means he’s stupid, too.

“We’ll get her back,” Finn says.

“Oh, there’s no question about it.” We’ll find her. And then we’ll crush every bone in that man’s body for what he’s done to her.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get the info on all of the Williams’ properties. I know it’s a lot, but you can narrow it down to residentials. Wren said in one of the videos that she’s in a house. Our plane is taking off as soon as possible, and then we’ll be home. I’ll have a better plan by the time we land.”

“On it. You guys probably already have some type of plan to make him suffer, don’t you?”

“Trust me,” I say darkly. “He’ll get what he deserves.”