Page 9

Chapter nine

Ryder

Seeing how much trust Ava had in me tonight, especially after everything she's been through, shows me a lot. I feel immense pride knowing she is willing to let her guard down and let me try something with her that she has never done before.

Building that level of trust and vulnerability with a partner is no easy feat, especially for someone with a past relationship as rocky as Ava’s. I don't usually allow women in my bedroom—that space is typically off-limits. And I definitely never let them stay the night.

Having a woman share my bed overnight blurs the boundaries that I've been careful to maintain for so long. But with Ava, my usual rules don't seem to apply. While I've had casual connections in the past, everything with Ava is different.

Her intelligence and passion hold my interest in a way I have never experienced before. I find myself wanting to know every facet of who she is. For the first time, I'm allowing myself to consider the possibility of something deeper, something lasting. Only time will tell if we can make this work, but I have a feeling this woman is worth all the effort to ensure it does. I don't know if it is because of our shared past, but I am ready to see where this goes.

My team has been quietly gathering evidence and intelligence on Clint's increasingly unhinged behavior. We have more than enough to bury that pathetic bastard and ensure he can never torment Ava again. With the resources I have at my disposal through Axiom and my uncle’s law firm on the case, I’ll make damn sure he ends up in prison where he belongs.

When I'm about to fall asleep, Ava moans. Thinking she must have woken up; I look down to find her still asleep. A few seconds pass, and Ava moans softly again. Fuck my life, that sound goes straight to my cock. I can feel myself starting to get hard again. I shift our positions, rolling us onto our sides with her back pressed against my chest. I wrap my arm around her waist, and pull her close while still leaving a careful gap between our bodies, so she doesn’t feel the growing bulge in my sleep pants.

Just the feeling of her curves against me is pure torture. I take a deep breath, willing myself to regain control before my arousal becomes too obvious. Even Ava sleeping is testing every bit of restraint that I have.

My eyes flutter open as I wake up to Ava’s movements against me. She is grinding her hips against my now hard cock. Gently pushing my swollen dick against her ass, I hear her moan softly in response.

"You should be careful with your teasing." My lips trail down her neck, nibbling and kissing every inch of exposed skin.

"What if I don't want to be careful?"

Well… fuck.

As I reach for her thighs, she suddenly grabs my arm with a playful giggle. "Not this time—Sir."

With a swift movement, she sits up. Climbing on top of me while gently pushing me onto my back. She straddles my hips, and begins to trail soft kisses down my body, pulling my sleep pants down along with her. My already hard cock springs free from its confines, begging to be touched.

He is a horny little bastard.

A seductive smile plays on her lips as she bends down and presses a soft, open mouth kiss to the tip of my dick. Then without warning, she envelopes me with her warm, wet mouth, taking me in fully and sending intense sensations coursing through my body.

"Fuck, baby," I groan , my hands tangling in her hair, guiding her as she takes me deep. Her skilled tongue dances and teases, flicking against every sensitive spot that makes my knees weak, and my breath catch in my throat. Her hand gently caresses my balls, her touch soft and perfect. My hips buck of their own accord, a primal reaction to this torrent of pleasure, seeking more, needing to thrust deep into her mouth.

"You've been such a good boy for me, Ryder."

What the actual fuck? What the hell is this woman doing to me? I've never felt this way before. I'm usually the one in control, dominating and taking what I want. But this woman has reduced me to a quivering mess with her tongue and a few choice words. Good boy? I've never once felt such a rush from two simple words—making me want to both please and possess her.

Her tongue swirls around the tip of my cock before taking me deeper into her mouth. I can't hold back the need to thrust up into her mouth, seeking more. "God Ava," I moan out her name. "You're fucking killing me, baby." I manage to grunt out between ragged breaths.

I can't take any more of this torment. I need to feel her, all of her—right here, right now. With a desperate growl, I pull her up to sit on top of me, position her right where I need her. She straddles my hips as she watches my face. Slowly, she lowers herself onto me, and I watch, transfixed, as every inch of my cock disappears deep inside her.

"Fuck, that's it," I moan, my eyes rolling back in pleasure as I feel myself enveloped by her heat.

Our bodies move as one, her hips rocking perfectly to meet mine. It's as if we've performed this dance a thousand times, our rhythm in perfect sync.

"Fuck Ava," I groan. "You feel so fucking good." She grinds her pussy harder against me, our sweat-slicked bodies sliding against each other. "You're so tight and so fucking wet."

I watch as she sits up taller, arching her back, riding me with deliberate, sensual movements. Her bare skin glistens with sweat in the dim light of the bedroom, her perfect breasts bouncing with each movement. She reaches down between her thighs and begins to tease her clit with two fingers with graceful movements. A low moan falling from her full lips.

She looks like a fucking goddess, taking what she wants from me. She's all my fantasies come to life.

My goddess .

"I love the feel of your cock inside me," she purrs, her voice thick with desire. Her hips rock against mine faster, her movements becoming more urgent as she rides me. My hands tighten on her perfect, rounded hips, my fingers digging into her soft skin as I meet her rapid pace.

"I'm going to come," she gasps.

Yeah, so the fuck am I just from watching her.

"Come on my cock, Ava. Let me hear how much you love it." My voice ragged with my own building release.

Her nails scratch down my chest, leaving a trail of fire as she throws her head back, lost in pleasure. With each bounce, she impales herself on my length, her body greedily taking me deeper. I can feel her walls fluttering and tightening around me, milking me, drawing me closer to my own release.

"Ryder," Ava moans my name, her walls clench around me as her orgasm washes over her.

I can't hold back any longer. With a strangled groan, I explode inside of her, my eyes slamming shut as wave after wave of pleasure ripple through me. My body almost convulsing with the force of it, my fingers biting into her hips as I try to anchor myself to her.

This woman is going to be the death of me, and I'm going to love every damn second of it.

We're both panting, slick with sweat, and completely spent. Ava collapses against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, our breathing the only sound in the room. We lay silent for a few minutes, both trying to catch our breath before she rolls to my side to face me, her eyes shining with satisfaction.

"What made you so happy?" I ask her.

God, can she tell how much she owns me?

Her face turns several shades red before answering. "I just never knew it could feel this way."

"Feel what way?"

She hesitates for a moment, "Promise not to laugh?"

"I promise," I assure her.

"It's just that... I've never had an experience like this before with anyone else. Not even with any of my toys," she confesses shyly.

My eyes widened in shock. "Really? Never? How is that possible?"

She just shrugged her shoulders. Maybe I am getting to her like she is getting to me.

Her confession both humbles and arouses me. I'd always known I was satisfying her, but to know that she'd never experienced anything close to this before? I feel a greater sense of achievement than when I was awarded commendations during my time in the service.

"Same here, sweetheart," I say, trying hard to keep the smug satisfaction I feel out of my voice. I maneuver Ava so she's laying on top of my chest again. "I think we should try to get some sleep before the sun comes up."

Snuggling into the perfect spot, she yawns, "Well if you would stop being so sexy, I'd already be asleep."

Chuckling, "I can see how that would be a problem. Unfortunately, there’s no turning down the sexy on all this, baby. Just go to sleep, and try to control yourself."

I gently stroke Ava's hair as she lays peacefully on my chest, her breathing slowly evening out. I marvel in the peace I find with her in my arms.

Ava is fast asleep, the sheet twisted around her body and exposing her bare back. Her blonde hair is delightfully tousled. She looks so peaceful and relaxed with me. I gently pull her tighter to my body. She lets out a content sigh, unconsciously snuggling closer. Trailing soft kisses along her shoulder, I breathe in her intoxicating scent.

I know we have a lot of shit to deal with. This isn't going to be an easy road for either of us. Submission is fun for her right now, but she doesn't know the full extent of it all.

For now, I am content to simply hold her close and savor the quiet of the morning. Our journey is only just beginning.

I wake up to someone banging on my front door, I carefully remove Ava from my chest, ensuring she remains asleep. Her head nestles softly against the pillow as I extract myself from our entwined bodies. Throwing on a robe, I make my way to the entryway, my irritation building with each insistent knock.

Someone better be fucking dead, or whoever it is standing on the other side, banging on my door will be.

I yank open the door, to find Chase standing there, fist raised to deliver another round of knocking. "If you do, I will remove that hand," I growl in a harsh whisper, my expression leaving no doubt as to the seriousness of my threat.

"Sorry man, I just got back from Russia. I tried talking to you about it earlier, but you hung up on me. This can't wait till Monday." The urgency in his tone makes me step back, and I motion for him to come inside.

I take a good look at my long-time friend and business partner. The dark circles beneath his eyes speak volumes of his exhaustion, while his usually impeccable appearance is marred by mussed hair and his shirt is wrinkled untucked. Whatever it is that brought him to my doorstep in such a state, it must be important.

"Come in, but be quiet," I caution Chase in a hushed tone, casting a glance back towards the bedroom. I've never seen him like this before. He is the guy that has it together in any situation no matter what is going on.

Chase looks confused. "You have someone here? You let a woman stay in your apartment overnight? Is it the girl from the fight outside of Blaze?" He asks, dumbfounded by this uncharacteristic breach of my usual practices.

“No, Chase. It’s the doorman from the lobby, Barney. He gave me that look last night when I was walking in the building and I just couldn’t say no.” Shooting him a pointed look as I gesture for him to walk to the kitchen.

"Get in the damn kitchen, Chase, so we can talk. Why are you here?” He doesn't need to know about Ava right now.

Waving my hand in front of me, I give Chase the floor to speak, and he wastes no time launching into his story. His words come out rushed and animated as he recounts the events that has led him here.

"I was in Moscow closing the contract with the Russians—everything was going smoothly at first. We went out for drinks to this little backwater bar in the middle of now here to celebrate. There was a group of Afghans there. They were brokering their own deal for guns with the Russians." Chase pauses, running a hand through his hair. "Things started going south when Ivan, the Russian guy we made our contract with, realized the Afghans didn't have enough money to cover the gun purchase. Ivan was getting heated, like real fucking aggressive."

I hold up my hand, cutting him off mid-ramble. "Chase, get to the point." Whatever mess he'd gotten tangled up in, I needed the facts—not the dramatic play-by-play. "What happened after that?"

"I'm getting to that. One of the Afghan guys said they had something better than money. They had American soldiers—hostages from an American mission that had gone bad," Chase explains. "At first Ivan didn't want any part of trading hostages. But then the bastard whispered in my ear, ‘Do you want to see if they are anyone you know? Maybe we could trade for them?'" Chase's face hardens as he recounts the chilling words. "He got in my head. Against my better judgement, I told him sure why not. There was no way in hell I was dealing with them fuckers, but I wanted to gather as much intel as I could on where the Afghans were holding the hostages. Then I could pass the information back to the right people when I got home. I could at least try to do that much for them and maybe get them out of there."

My blood ran cold, "Jesus Christ Chase, please tell me you didn't get mixed up with that shit." I am now yelling, unable to contain my anger at the thought of American soldiers being held captive. I shot a glance towards the bedroom, praying my outburst didn’t wake up Ava.

This was a line that we never cross-—I don’t care what kind of deal had been proposed. No amount of money or leverage could justify getting involved with hostage situations, especially not when it involved men I could have served beside. The mere fact that Chase had entertained the idea, pissed me off.

"Would you shut up and just fucking listen, Ryder! It was him. I saw him!"

“What the hell are you talking about? Saw who?”

Chase pulls out his phone, the bright screen illuminates the tense lines of his face. He swipes through a few images before landing on the one he was looking for. In the picture, a group of haggard, beaten men huddled together. And then, the last face I look at in the picture knocks the wind out of me like a sucker punch to the gut. There at the end, pale and sickly with a thousand-yard stare, was the unmistakable face of my childhood best friend and Ava’s brother, August Jade.

My chest tightens and I feel my entire world turn upside down. August—Ava's brother who I'd known since we were just snot-nosed brats racing bikes down our street, getting into all sorts of mischief together.

He is supposed to be dead. He and his entire unit were killed in an ambush. The government notified all their families that they were killed in action. But that image of August, pale and beaten, huddled with his battered brothers in arms—it was indisputable proof that he is still very much alive. Even if it was under unimaginable conditions, he’s alive.

"How much?"

"That's why I'm here Ryder. It's a hell of a lot more than we can come up with."

“It doesn’t matter, whatever the amount. Tell them it’s a deal. I’ll make it happen, and we’ll bring August and the rest of those men home.”

I guess everyone has a line they are willing to cross when it comes to saving someone they love. I’m just not sure if it’s Ava or August I’m crossing that line for.

I can’t just leave without saying goodbye to Ava, but I know that if I wake her, I'll end up spilling everything. Telling her that August is out there, alive. It is too risky. I’m not going to give her hope until I have laid eyes on him, and we have a solid plan to bring him and his men home safely.

Instead, I leave a detailed note on the bedside table for Ava to find when she wakes up, explaining that an urgent business matter came up, that it requires my presence. I don’t go into specifics about the nature of this overseas trip, not wanting to potentially worry or upset her before I had more facts. I give her a kiss on the cheek and promise I will be back soon. Then I leave her behind, sleeping in my bed, without another word.

Chase and I were aboard a flight bound for Russia within two hours of him knocking on my door. My longtime friend and business partner has already taken the initiative to reach out to Ivan, coordinating a meeting between the three of us upon our arrival. We were hoping to negotiate an alternative arrangement that didn't involve an outright monetary exchange. Perhaps levera ging our respective resources and contacts to strike a more creative deal.

Landing at the private airstrip, the wheels of our charter jet roll along the tarmac on Russian soil, and I feel the familiar lurch as the brakes engage. I power on my phone, eager for any word from Ava. A couple messages from her are waiting for me.

Ava: Thank you for leaving me the note. I'm going to get a shower then head out.

Ava: Good luck with your trip. Last night was fun.

Fun? That was more than fun. Maybe her feelings are hurt since I left before she woke up. Fucking fun.

Good morning beautiful. No need to rush. Enjoy the apartment while I'm gone, stay as long as you want. I'll talk to you soon. And just so you know, last night was a hell of a lot more than just fun.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and climb into the waiting SUV.

"Any fucking day now, princess." Chase says while impatiently tapping his knee with his fingers.

"Calm down, Chase. What's gotten into you? You're never like this." It is a valid question. I'd never witnessed Chase so anxious before.

"It’s a little difficult to be calm right now Ryder. This is the Russian mob we are dealing with. If we fuck this up, they won't just break our legs. They'll slaughter our entire families—everyone we care about and then some."

My mind immediately flashes to Ava. I know we had to get this right; the consequences of us failing this mission are unthinkable.

"We won't mess this up, Chase. That’s not a fucking option. We've handled situations like this plenty of times. We have a solid deal ready to go; you just need to sell it to them."

"Yeah, and I have to keep your ass in check. You can't fly off the handle with this one; you have to keep a cool head. If you lose it Ryder, we're screwed.”

"I've only botched on e deal before."

"Actually asshole, it’s been three." He says as he holds up three fingers like I’m not capable of counting that high. "You've messed up three deals personally, two of which ended in a gunfight. We can't afford for that to happen here. You have to keep your temper in check."

Okay, it might've been three times, but they weren't entirely all my fault. Those clients refused to stick to our agreement. They thought they could push us around. We needed to demonstrate that's not how we do business. I stand behind my decisions.

"Just keep your mouth shut Ryder, and let me do all the talking this time."

I hold up my fingers in the classic pledge position. "Scout's honor," I promise.

Chase rolls his eyes, "You were not a Scout, but I'll take it."

As we pull up to the building and stop, Chase glances my way and utters his usual pre-meeting mantra: "It's show time." It is his ritual, a phrase he offers up before every encounter.

Chase and I are meeting with Ivan at his lavish penthouse apartment. The opulent interior is a direct contrast to the man's crude demeanor. The older Russian regards us with a measured gaze as we enter, his deeply creased face reads like a roadmap of a lifetime of hard-earned wisdom.

"Good evening. Thank you for coming all this way," Ivan greets us cordially. I catch a faint undercurrent of skepticism in his thickly accented words. "But I'm not really sure what the point is if you don't have the money."

Despite his polite reception, Ivan's candid remark cut through the niceties, laying bare the hard truth of our current situation. I exchange a look with Chase, we both knew it was time to lay all our cards on the table.

"Twenty-five million dollars is indeed a substantial sum that lies far beyond our current means," Chase admits. "However, we have not come this far only to be deterred by financial constraints." Chase slid a hefty stack of documents across the table towards Ivan, the crisp pages outlining our proposal.

I lean forward, determined to make this deal happen. "Ivan, we've put together a comprehensive deal that we believe will be of significant value to you. First, we're pre pared to offer 10 million dollars in cash up front. It's not the full amount, but it's a significant sum that demonstrates our commitment to make this deal happen."

Chase nods in agreement. "And that's just the beginning. We're also offering you exclusive access to a team of our most skilled operatives for the next year. These men are former special forces, highly trained in covert operations, security detail, and tactical planning. They'll work solely for you, at no cost."

I watch Ivan's face carefully as he absorbs our words. His eyebrows raise slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his weathered features.

"This team," Chase continues, "represents millions in wages and training. Their expertise and loyalty are invaluable assets that could significantly bolster your operations and security. They'll be at your disposal, ready to handle any situation you deem necessary."

Ivan's eyes narrow as he considers our offer. "And what exactly do you expect in return in this arrangement?"

"The safe return of the American hostages," I state firmly.

Ivan leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "You understand, of course, that this complicates matters considerably. The Afghans won't be pleased with a change in terms."

"We're aware of the risks, but in the end the Afghans will be dead and their feelings on this matter won’t be of any concern to either of us," Chase interjects. "But we believe this deal offers you long-term benefits that far outweigh the immediate cash payout."

I hold Ivan's gaze, willing him to see the value in our proposition. The tension in the room is suffocating as we wait for his response, the fate of August and his fellow soldiers hanging in the balance.

Ivan scoffs, shaking his head. "Why would you do that for some sick soldiers that will probably die before they even have a chance to step foot on American soil again?"

"Because they are our brothers. You never leave a man behind, we will bring them home." Chase’s words carry a solemn conviction, revealing the depth of our loyalty to our brothers in arms. What Chase didn’t say is we will bring them home, or die trying, regardless. It doesn’t matter if Ivan accepts this deal or not. We have a team on standby if need be.

Ivan purses his lips together, "And if one of them dies before they get home, who would you hold responsible for that?"

"Our brothers, our responsibility. Make the trade Ivan. After we take out the Afghans, the guns will be returned to you. We will set up a safe house for the hostages while you provide them with medical care and food. When the hostages are in better health and able to travel, we will take them home. We can sort out the story we tell our government later."

Chase is loyal to a fault. Every word from his mouth is the promise of a man who would stop at nothing to see this mission through and his brothers back on U.S. soil.

Ivan chuckles, his tone carries a touch of mocking amusement that grated on my fucking nerves. "I'll have my men make the trade with the Afghans—have your men ready. We keep the American hostages here till the year is up.” I watch as his eyes turn cold, “If you don't keep up your end of our deal, I'll kill the soldiers myself. One by one." Ivan’s threat is clear and uncompromising. "Understand?"

"No fucking way." I say.

Ivan smirks, his lips curl into a self-satisfied grin that made me want to wipe it off his goddamn face.

"Then no deal," he says with a casual shrug, as if he is discussing the weather rather than human lives. "I can sell those guns to anyone, you know. There's always a market for weapons." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't need to save American hostages. Hell, I don't even need the headache they'll cause me. It might be easier to just..." He makes a cutting motion across his throat again, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

This fucker is trying to provoke me.

My blood is now boiling, a rage coursing through my veins like I’ve never experienced before. I am already making plans to kill Ivan, my mind racing through various scenarios of how to end this despicable excuse for a human being. The urge to wrap my hands around his throat. To stare into his eyes as he takes his last breaths with the satisfaction of him knowing it is me who is sending him to hell. But I force myself to remain outwardly calm. I can’t fuck this up for August, or Ava.

Chase comes up beside me, he leans in close, keeping his voice low as he whispers, "I know this isn't ideal, Ryder. Hell, it's far from it. But we have to agree to his terms. We can figure out a way to get them home sooner. This is how we save them now." I know Chase is right but I’m going to hate every second of dealing with this Russian bastard.

My eyes never leave Ivan's, “Fine.” I force every word out through gritted teeth. "You have a deal." I know that this is the right call—no matter how much I hate to admit it.

Two days later, we stand in an abandoned air hangar in Russia, the heavy artillery clinking as the metal cases are lowered to the ground. Now we just have to wait for Ivan and his men to bring the soldiers.

"Man, you're wearing a hole in the floor and it’s concrete," Chase remarks, placing a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to stop my restless movements. The weight of his palm is grounding but does little to ease the knot of apprehension coiled in my gut.

"I know," I reply, as I glance at my watch for what felt like the hundredth time. "He was supposed to be here an hour ago." Ivan's tardiness is only amplifying the uncertainty gnawing at me. In this line of work, delays often signaled trouble. A truth that made my unease with this entire situation grow.

The rumble of heavy trucks pulling up outside sent a wave of relief washing over me. At last, the metallic groan of the door echoes through the cavernous space as Ivan walks in, a group of men trailing behind him with the rescued American soldiers.

I frantically scan the haggard faces of the men until my eyes land on August. The knot of tension in my chest loosens as I rush forward, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

"It's damn good to see you, brother," I say, my voice thick with emotion. Though August returns the hug, his wiry frame feels alarmingly frail and malnourished against mine.

I pull back and study him with a critical eye before he manages a weary smile. "It's about damn time you show up. I thought I was going to have to save myself waiting on your slow ass." I smile at the hint of his sense of humor peeking through. Even if it is just to try to mask the conditio n he is in. As weak as it is, that familiar spark of August's spirit shining through is a reassuring sign that my brother is still in there somewhere.

We spend the next several hours ensuring they receive all the necessary medical attention they need. Then we break the news that their loved ones have been led to believe they are dead. Unfortunately, the facade will remain in place until our contract is up. The revelation is understandably difficult for them to accept, but they recognize the gravity of the situation and the necessity of maintaining this charade, at least for the time being.

Before we leave for the night, August wants to talk to me privately.

"Can you check on Ava for me? I understand you can't tell her that I’m alive. But I need to know she's doing alright."

Well, fuck.

"Of course man, I'll get my people to check on her before we head back. Anything you need, I’m here. Just ask."

"I appreciate it. She's been my reason for staying strong through everything."

On the bright side, August is alive, and we will be bringing him back home with the rest of his unit. The downside, he may kill me when he finds out I'm falling for his sister and all the dirty shit I like to do to her. He’s never agreed with my lifestyle and my various kinks and preferences. When he finds out that I'm not only with Ava, but I have taken her to my club. Yeah, he’s going to kill me.