Twisted Vow

by Ella Miles

  “Know anything about how to get a truck unstuck in the sand?” I ask.

  She laughs. “Even if I did, you’re the one who got us into this predicament; you get us out. I’m not a mechanic or car person, though, no. My skills stop at being able to fire a gun, a little Krav Maga, and using my body to seduce men.”

  My heart clenches. She just had to mention seducing other men. How many men have fallen for her? How many men have slept in her bed? I’m just one of many. Last night meant nothing to her. I’m sure she’s had her fill of men worshipping at her feet.

  “Good, I plan on using your seduction skills to get to this Beckett guy,” I say, leaning in close to her so she can feel my angry breath as I say it.

  She frowns. “Sure.”

  My eyes flicker between hers. She’s pissed. And turned on from the pink flush of her cheeks. Maybe I have more of an effect on her than I think? Maybe she doesn’t fuck men every night? She was awfully tight for a woman who I assume has fucked every man she’s ruined.

  Stop thinking about sex.

  Ugh.

  I jump out of the car, and confirm our predicament—we are stuck in the sand. I find a piece of driftwood to stick under the wheel to give the truck some traction. And then I signal for Siren to step on the gas. She’s already moved over to the driver’s seat, and I know she won’t let me drive anymore. Although, I wouldn’t get us into such predicaments if she wouldn’t distract me with her singing. Or her body. Or her presence, sitting next to me.

  God, I’m so screwed.

  She pulls back onto the road, and I jump in the passenger side—I’m a little sandier than when I jumped out, but otherwise, I’m good. She takes off toward the airport, turning the radio up in excitement at the next song.

  I flick it off immediately.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because your voice is what caused me to lose my dignity in the first place.”

  “Damn right, I won’t let you drive when you almost got us killed, again.” But she’s smiling. She likes that I’m not arguing with her about me needing to drive my own truck.

  Honestly, I prefer the passenger seat. It gives me more time to study her body without worrying about killing us. But her singing takes things too far. I’ll jump her if she starts singing again. And then she’d be the one to crash us.

  So instead, we ride in silence—something I’m used to and thrive in, giving me time to think clearly. Siren, on the other hand, seems irritable as we pull onto the airport’s main road. I assume it’s because she’s still mad about the almost cliff dive we had, or maybe it’s because she hasn’t had her morning coffee yet either.

  She doesn’t talk to me yet as we head toward the private side of the airport. Good, we aren’t flying commercial, so I can bring my gun.

  “I’m going to talk to the pilot. We should be ready to leave in five minutes,” Siren says after we enter the small terminal.

  I nod and watch her walk away. I decide I should do something nice and get us both coffees for the flight. It’s the right thing to do after fucking her last night. If I was being myself, I would have made her breakfast in bed, offered her a long soak in the tub, pampered her all morning, and then sent her flowers after she left. But this isn’t a normal situation. We aren’t dating. She hates my guts.

  So I’ll just settle on coffee.

  While I’m standing in line for coffee, I notice a small stand with flowers. Flowers can’t hurt either. Might get her to stop scowling at me all the time and like me enough for us to work together in peace. And honestly, I like being the nice guy everyone likes.

  I buy two coffees and decide on a single red rose.

  I walk in the direction I last saw Siren and find her standing next to a cute black woman. Siren is wearing her familiar scowl that only deepens the closer I get.

  “Coffee black, like you like it,” I say, holding out the coffee. And then I lean in so only she can hear. “And a flower because you saved my life back there.”

  She frowns and picks up a coffee from the table behind her. “I can get my own.” She turns and starts walking out toward the tarmac.

  I sigh, now I’m holding two coffees and a flower like an idiot.

  The woman she was talking to smiles brightly.

  “I’m Nora,” she says.

  “Zeke,” I say.

  “I like coffee and flowers.”

  “Oh, here, sure.” I hand her the coffee and flower. She tucks the flower behind her ear, just like I imagined Siren doing and then sips the coffee.

  “Aria will come around. She’s not the romantic type, if you know what I mean.”

  “A coffee and flower is romantic?”

  “To most women, yes.” Nora looks toward where Siren is already climbing up the stairs of a small propeller plane. “She’s used to being independent and having to take care of herself. Don’t take it personally.”

  “I don’t. We aren’t together.”

  “I know. But you should be,” she says with a playful smile before heading toward the plane herself.

  I jog after her. “Why do you say that? We’re enemies stuck working together. Don’t put ideas in Siren’s head.”

  She stops. “Siren?”

  “I mean, Aria.”

  This only makes her eyes brighten more, like she can understand our entire relationship from just one conversation.

  “Well, I can’t put any ideas into Siren’s head. It’s not possible. I’ve known the woman for years, and she does what she wants when she wants. But then you know that already.”

  “I do.”

  “I think you are just the kind of man she needs.”

  “And what kind of man is that?”

  She sips her coffee, still smiling brightly in the way I wish Siren would every time she looks at me. “You seem like a smart man; you’ll figure it out.”

  “You coming with us to St. John?”

  “Better than that. I’m the one flying you.”

  I look her up and down. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. This woman is tiny. Can’t be bigger than five foot two. She’s not dressed like any pilot I’ve ever seen, but I would trust this woman with my life and children.

  “Lead the way then,” I say, carrying my bag and coffee as I follow Nora up the stairs to the plane.

  I don’t spot Siren anywhere in the back of the plane. I even check the bathroom.

  “Need anything before takeoff?” Nora asks, nodding toward the front where I see Siren sitting in one of the pilot seats.

  I follow Nora up as she takes her seat and starts going through her checks.

  “You a pilot now, too?” I ask Siren.

  “Nope, just thought I’d keep my best friend company.”

  Best friend, huh? Finally, I’ve learned a fact about Siren.

  “I think your best friend would prefer you ride in the back with me. That way, we can make a plan while your best friend focuses on flying the plane.”

  Siren looks from me to Nora, and I can tell they exchange a silent conversation. Nora may be on my side, but as she said earlier, no one persuades Siren to do anything unless she wants to.

  Which is why her relationship with Julian is so weird. The only reason I can think of that Siren does as Julian says is because she wants to. Which means I have no hope of changing her mind.

  “My friend would prefer if I keep her company,” Siren says.

  Nora gives me a look as if to say, I’m sorry, I tried.

  I sigh and relent myself to sitting in the back of the plane, alone.

  15

  Siren

  “So, who’s the guy?” Nora asks with knowing eyes as she starts up the plane’s engines.

  “He’s just a guy who works for Julian,” I answer, keeping to the truth, mostly. Zeke does work for Julian, so it’s not a lie, he’s just not working for him by choice. But what Nora doesn’t know won’t kill her.

  She sighs. “Ugh, I thought he was one of the good guys, but if he’s working for Jul
ian, there must be something wrong with him.”

  I take a sip of the coffee I got for myself. “Plenty.”

  “What? He’s rude? Heartless? A bully? Sexist? Racist? An asshole?”

  Nope, he’s none of those things.

  “Have a small dick?”

  I shoot her a look.

  She grins proudly. “Fine, what’s wrong with him then?”

  “He’s insufferable, thinks he’s better than everyone else, arrogant, noble, loyal—”

  “Those all seem like positives to me,” Nora frowns.

  “Trust me, they’re not.” Except sometimes that protective streak in him is mighty sexy. As is his loyalty and nobility. I even enjoy his arrogance.

  We are silent as we take off. I glance over at her, waiting for more questions, and I notice her fidgeting with the flower Zeke bought for me but gave to her.

  I grind my teeth together at the sight. Why does he have to also be so fucking sweet? We are enemies, and he bought me a damn coffee and flower. Why? Because he’s a nice guy, that’s why. When he dates women, he probably takes them on real dates, holds doors open, and sends them daily chocolates or flowers.

  I’m not that type of woman—the type who wants him to be all romantic and cheesy. Even if we were dating, I don’t want flowers. I don’t want a man to buy me shit. I just want…

  “Have you fucked him yet? Or is that why there is so much pent up frustration in this plane right now?” Nora asks. The way she wiggles her eyebrows and takes the flower from her ear and strokes my arm with it, I know she isn’t into Zeke. But she thinks I am.

  She’s my best friend in the whole world. We met when I first came to the island at eighteen. She knows me better than anyone else. She’s a rich princess who flies planes for fun, to have something to do, and to have the ability to travel at a moment’s notice without having to coordinate with anyone else. She knows I will only ever tell her the truth. She knows my problem with being able to lie—I can’t lie. So she waits for me to answer.

  I sigh, I should have stayed in the back with Zeke. I may not be able to lie, but I can evade. “I’m going to check on Zeke.”

  She smirks triumphantly. I know she wanted me to go sit with him the whole time, but I really don’t want to be anywhere near him. Not when I know there will be no more fucking. This trip might even be the last time we are alone together. For all I know, the rest of Julian’s sins will be completed with someone else watching guard over him. We need to get back to a business relationship and stop undressing each other with our eyes.

  But the sight in front of me when I step into the back of a plane makes me drool with need.

  Zeke is sitting in his chair, his biceps and shoulders overflowing into the seat next to him. Good thing we are the only ones on this plane. If he had to sit next to someone, I’m not sure there would be room. Unless it was a woman, then she’d be more than happy to sit on his lap.

  The heated look in his eyes when he spots me tells me exactly what’s on his mind, but the way he’s gripping the seat tells me he’s nervous as hell about my friend’s flying.

  Nora makes a hard turn, and as I’m slung against the doorway, I remember my first time flying with her. She’s more than capable of flying perfectly. She passed all her exams to fly a commercial flight with ease. But she prefers to live on the dangerous side of life and enjoys making her passengers push the limits too.

  “Nervous flyer?” I ask, enjoying getting to tease Zeke.

  “Not usually, but your friend has a death wish. I’m surprised you haven’t taken over; her flying is far worse than my driving.”

  I fold my arms over my chest as I eat up the sight in front of me. “First, it’s not possible to be worse at flying than you are at driving. Second, I would if I knew how to fly.”

  He scoffs. “Like you don’t know how to fly.”

  I frown. “I don’t. I don’t know how to do everything.”

  “You sure act like it.”

  I’m just about to tell him off and go back to sitting up front with Nora when the plane dips, and I stumble forward—right onto Zeke’s lap.

  His hands go to my hips, steadying me in his lap, as his eyes go to my face inspecting me for any sign of injury.

  “Stop saving me,” I whisper, out of breath and needy.

  “Stop needing saving,” he breathes back.

  Another turn of the plane and my lips fall forward, so fucking close to his. His lips are beyond tempting for me to kiss. I want them. On my mouth. Sucking on my nipples. Tantalizing my pussy. Instead, his lips are parted, waiting for me to make the final move.

  And the space between us is enough to remind me why I can’t kiss him. Why fucking him was a one-time thing. Never again. Never, never, never.

  My heart already hurts after one night. A second would leave me ruined.

  I glare up front at Nora, who is purposefully flying like a maniac to ensure I landed in Zeke’s lap. Damn Nora and her matchmaking.

  “Ever joined the mile-high club?” Zeke asks, with desperation in his voice. He’s not just asking me if I have, but if I want to.

  “Been a member since 2015.”

  He frowns, the moment over as soon as I speak.

  “Who? How? When?” he asks, perturbed to hear stories of me with another man.

  But the angry expression on his face tells me everything he’s thinking. He thinks I’m a whore. That because of my job, I sleep with any man who I or Julian want something from. That’s not how this works. That’s not who I am. Sure, I like sex, and I don’t mind using it to get what I want on occasion. But I don’t like Zeke thinking so little of me.

  “We should be landing in about thirty minutes,” I answer.

  “It’s just sex, Siren.” He strokes my cheek.

  “No, sex is never just sex. There is always something more. Sometimes romance, sometimes love, sometimes money, sometimes secrets. But there is always something.”

  “There is nothing more between us. Just two people who hate each other, are mortal enemies, and who happen to enjoy having sex with each other. With us, there are no emotions.”

  “I thought last night was a one-time thing.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  My eyes flick to the front where Nora sits with a cup of coffee and flower meant for me. I turn back. “Flowers and coffee scream romance, Zeke.”

  He smirks. “I’m a nice guy, Siren. I’m not going to change who I am just because it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not going to change who I am, either.”

  And that’s the problem. We need to change who we are to be together. As lovers. As friends. As more.

  Neither of us will. Neither of us can.

  “Truth or sin,” Zeke starts, getting desperate. It’s not even been twenty-four hours, and he’s already begging for sex. Already wanting more.

  My body warms, my body is hungry for his. I understand why he’s doing this. It’s taking all of my self-control not to kiss him and rip his clothes off right now.

  “Zeke, we can’t…”

  “Can’t or won’t? You’re a strong independent woman. You make your own decisions. You don’t let me, or any other man, make your choices for you. What do you want?”

  You.

  In any capacity I can get you, for as long as I can get you. My lover. My friend. My boyfriend.

  But it’s not fair. To either of us. We got our moment together. Never again.

  He must read my decision in my eyes.

  “Fine, then what’s the harm in playing our game?”

  “When I refuse to answer, you’ll get what you want.”

  “I’ll add a new rule then. I can’t repeat a sin. Which means I can’t fuck you again as my sin.”

  Hearing Zeke say he can’t fuck me again hurts when every nerve in my body is shouting for him to do just that. Would fucking him one more time really be the worst thing?

  “And I promise, no matter what, to never bring you coffee or flowers again
. Nothing remotely considered romantic, regardless of what you decide.”

  “Good,” I say. I hate the romantic stuff, and I hate being taken care of.

  “Truth or sin? What vow did you promise Julian?” Zeke dips me back so he can look me dead in the eyes as I answer. Even if I was capable of lying, my body screams my honest secrets to him daily. It’s not my fault he doesn’t realize the truth.

  “Sin.” I bite my lip, waiting for him to do his best to tempt me. Kiss me, torment my breasts, undress me.

  Instead, his eyes turn dark before he sits me back up and looks up to Nora.

  “Hey, Nora,” he shouts.

  My mouth falls open. What is he doing?

  “Yes, handsome?” Nora answers.

  “What are you doing tonight? Want to grab dinner with me?” he asks.

  I can practically feel Nora’s eyes on me, trying to decide if she’ll piss me off by going.

  “Only if you take me to a steakhouse,” she flirts back.

  “Deal,” Zeke shouts.

  I hate him. He fucked me last night. Made it clear that he wanted to fuck me now. And then asked my best friend out right in front of me.

  Fuck him.

  And I want to. Literally.

  Damn, why am I more attracted to this asshole version of Zeke instead of the gentleman version? What’s wrong with me?

  “Your turn,” he says, daring me to say something to stop their date.

  “Do you want to fuck Nora?” I ask, the question slipping out before I think.

  Zeke raises an eyebrow as if he can’t believe I just asked that question. And then his hand slides down my bare arm, then over my hip, teasing my skin and making chills run up and down my body. His hands tell me what his words won’t—he doesn’t want to sleep with Nora, he wants to fuck me.

  “Yes,” he breathes against my neck, sending the worst kind of chills through my body. They feel delicious, like I’m the only woman he could ever crave, while simultaneously feeling like death to my heart when he says he wants to fuck Nora.

  Zeke may be able to tell a lie, but he won’t during the game. It’s our one rule he will never break. Because if I catch him in a lie, then I get to kill him. Or maybe he thinks even if I can kill him, I never will?