by Dakota Rebel
“Please don’t,” I begged them softly.
“Reagan,” Ash moaned, kissing his way up my throat. “You’re beautiful. Don’t hide from us.”
I blinked back tears of shame, not wanting to admit how their attention to my scars made me feel. “Just leave it alone, please.”
Ash’s mouth covered mine, his tongue gently probing between my lips. My hands were suddenly free, and I slid them up the dark man’s arms and over his shoulders, holding him tight against my chest. I felt Cyrus traveling down my body, his mouth carefully avoiding the scars he could see, until his lips were moving over my thighs then between my legs.
When Cyrus’ tongue slid inside my wet channel, my back arched up, pressing my breasts against Ash. The mouth against mine because more insistent, the kisses more frantic. My fingers curled into Ash’s dark hair, gripping his strands firmly to keep him tight against me.
This was what I wanted. To be taken, hard and fast. To forget everything that had come before. I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to be. Ash and Cyrus could do that for me, I knew it. Without a doubt, I knew they could tear me down and put me back together again. When we were done, I might still be broken, but at least, I’d have had a few moments of solace with them.
As their touches and kisses became even more urgent, the need for them grew into a fire in the pit of my stomach. It felt as if I were literally burning for them.
“Please,” I pleaded against Ash’s mouth. “Please fuck me.”
I didn’t even know which one of them I was begging anymore. I wanted them both. The realization of it should have made me blush, but I was beyond embarrassment now. They had me worked hotter than anyone had ever made me before, and my body screamed to be filled by them.
Cyrus kissed his way back up my body, his head gently nudging Ash away from my chest. His lips wrapped around one of my nipples, and I whimpered, the hardening skin tugging at my pussy as if a taut string were connecting them. Ash shifted to sit behind me, his hard cock weeping against my back as he watched Cyrus touching and kissing my breasts. I leaned back against his shoulder, catching his gaze for a moment before he bent to kiss me, and my eyes closed, the sensations too much for my body to continue using all of my senses.
The weight of Cyrus pressing against me reined in some of my passion. Ash’s arms had wrapped around me as the werewolf leaned over me, his hips shifting between my legs. My heart pounded at the thought of being trapped under Cyrus. I trusted him, knowing deep down he would never hurt me, but the thought of being pinned underneath him made me panic a little.
“If you don’t want me, you can say so,” Cyrus said, his lips brushing my chin. He didn’t sound hurt or angry which was a relief. I wanted to be sure he knew this fear was my issue and had nothing to do with him.
“I do want you,” I assured him. “But I can’t do it like this.”
He nodded, pulling me out of Ash’s embrace. I kissed him, using my body to push him backward so that he was flat on his back in the aisle with me straddling his hips.
“Is this all right?” I asked him as I leaned back.
The look in his eyes was full of fire as he nodded his head in agreement. My stomach fluttered at the thought that he held that much passion for me. That he really wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
“Condoms?” I asked, looking around to see where all of our clothes had been strewn.
“I’m sterile,” Cyrus said, his tone apologetic, “so I don’t carry them with me. If it helps, werewolves don’t carry disease, and you can’t catch lycanthropy from sex.”
“I know that.” I turned to Ash. “What about you?”
“I’m on duty.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on having sex with you on this trip, so I didn’t bring any.”
I took a deep breath. The talking had calmed my body a little, helping me to think more clearly. I’d already had sex with Ash tonight, without protection, but I was pretty sure I was safe from pregnancy. I had to believe he was clean. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would have unprotected sex if he had some kind of STD.
“This isn’t happening, is it?” Cyrus asked, his tone full of disappointment.
“You promise you can’t knock me up?” I met his gaze with a wink.
“Swear it,” he growled, sitting up to kiss me. The feel of his tongue parting my lips stoked the fire in my body back to full blast. I couldn’t understand what it was about these men that made me want to break every single personal rule I’d lived by since killing Skip.
I shifted in his lap until I felt the head of his cock pressing against my pussy. His breath caught as I slid down his length, enveloping him inside myself, gripping him with my muscles until I reached the base.
Rolling my hips, I rocked back and forth, my ass grinding against his balls until he had to break the kiss to catch his breath. As soon as Cyrus moved away from my face, Ash lowered himself to the floor next to me and picked up where the other man had left off.
Ash’s stubble scraped at my skin as he devoured my mouth with his own. His fingers teased and tweaked my nipples as Cyrus tried to move underneath me. Finally, I had to lean back, propping myself on my knees with my hands bent backward on the floor behind me so that Cyrus could slide in and out of my soaked pussy while Ash kissed and touched every inch of me he could.
I could feel my orgasm building in my muscles, my head dropped back so that all I could do was close my eyes and wait for my body to fall apart. When fingers rubbed hard and fast circles over my clit, I screamed my release, my nails breaking on the cheap carpet beneath me as I struggled for something to grip. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me as Cyrus slowed his pace then pulled out of me.
“Turn around,” he growled, his voice thick with need.
I rolled to my hands and my knees slowly, my muscles were still shaking from coming so hard. When I finally felt steady, Cyrus moved behind me and slammed himself back into my pussy. I cried out in surprise and pleasure as he pounded in and out of me, the force making me rock beneath him.
Ash moved to kneel in front of me, his cock hard and shiny with pre-cum. I bent down, taking him in my mouth and as far down my throat as I could manage. The tangy taste of him rolled over my tongue, and I moaned around his thick shaft. His fingers curled into my hair, gripping it tightly as I slid my lips up and down his length.
Cyrus’ fingers dug into my hips as his thrusts became erratic. I increased the speed of my mouth on Ash’s cock, wanting them to come together inside of me. The darker man seemed to understand what I needed, and he moved in and out of my mouth, helping me to a pace that would finish him.
With a choked scream, Cyrus came as Ash exploded in my mouth. Both of their cocks were twitching as they filled me with their essence. After a few moments, they both pulled out of me, and Cyrus had to catch me with an arm under my waist as my hands gave out.
We rolled to lie together on the floor again, me in the middle with each of my hands in one of theirs. Our chests heaved as all of us fought to catch our breath. My eyes closed again, and the strangest urge to purr rolled through me. I had never been so completely…happy.
The moment was ruined by the telltale click of a revolver being cocked.
Chapter Seven
I looked up to see the pilot standing in the open doorway of the cockpit, a gun gripped in his hand, though the barrel shook. A nervous laugh bubbled out of me at the ridiculousness of the situation, and it earned me an elbow to the ribs from Ash.
“Is something funny?” the pilot spat at me, his hand steadying as his stance widened.
“Just my life,” I answered with a shrug. Rolling to my feet, I pulled free of the hands reaching for me, both men on the floor trying to keep me where I was.
“Lady, I will shoot you,” the pilot hissed at me.
“Look, I am an unarmed, naked woman who’s way too high up in the air. Are you really going to just kill me in cold blood?” My hands went to my hips as I glared at him. The gun shifted f
rom me to the men on the floor, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least, he was giving me a chance to talk. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m not having this conversation without clothes. So if you’d allow me to at least put on a shirt we can talk about this.”
The man nodded as I reached over to grab one of the guy’s T-shirts from a seat. Pulling it over my head I was glad to see that it mostly covered my bits. Enough so that I could stand there and talk to the lunatic with a gun still pointed at my lovers.
Lovers. I supposed that’s what they were, but it sounded strange in my mind. Focus Reagan, I thought to myself, pushing my head back into the situation at hand. One crisis at a time.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now, what the fuck is going on?”
“I’m to deliver you to my boss. From the instructions he left me, it doesn’t seem as if he cares much if you’re dead or alive. So it’s really up to you how the rest of this goes.” The pilot motioned me forward with the barrel of the pistol. “You can be a good girl and come up to the cockpit with me, or I can just shoot you all now and deliver your bodies.”
Our weapons were scattered throughout the plane, and I knew none of us could get to a gun without the pilot getting a shot off, so I was sort of lost as to what to do. If I went with him to the front of the plane that would give me time to think things through. And the men would be able to collect their gear and maybe come up with something on their own.
Looking down at them, I tried to convey with my eyes that I knew what I was doing, but as my heart pounded like a jackrabbit I probably just looked like a frightened little girl. With a resigned breath, I stepped between the men and headed for the cockpit.
“If either of you touches that door, I will shoot your slut in the head,” the pilot growled as he shoved me into the alcove, following close behind.
The door slammed shut, and I heard the heavy tumbler of the lock turn as I found myself staring out the huge window into miles of dark sky. Closing my eyes against the sight, I let the man push me into the co-pilot’s seat. I collapsed against the soft leather, my body shaking from fear and adrenaline.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he said as he settled back into his seat. “We’ll land soon. If you’re a good girl, I’ll just hand you over in one piece. If you try something stupid, I’ll shoot you.”
I nodded, opening my eyes to stare at my hands. Not killing me sounded like a great idea. I’d have to watch my mouth if I was going to get out of the room alive.
“So,” I said, “I take it you work for Max?” He grunted in response so I continued. “What’s your name?”
He shot me a dirty look, and I shrugged. It was a long shot but worth trying anyway. His gaze lingered on me for an extra second though, and I groaned inwardly. I wasn’t exactly great with sexuality. Flirting with a murderer was not on my agenda for the evening. I suck at trying to exude sexiness.
Once, when I was on a job in Germany, I’d actually picked up a guy in a bar by asking him, “Willst du meinen hintern sehen?” Which loosely translates to, “Do you want to see my butt?” Graceful, I am not.
But I knew I had to at least try if this was the only out I was being given. I slid lower in my seat, letting the shirt ride farther up my thighs as I watched his reflection in the window next to me. He turned to gaze at the expanse of leg, and bile rose up in my throat. Guys are fucking disgusting. Who can look at a girl he just threatened to kill with that much lust in their eyes? Bastard.
“Ow,” I said, reaching up to play with my barrette. “Sorry, this is pulling my hair.” With shaking hands, my gaze never leaving his reflection just in case he attacked me, I dislodged the clip and held it in my hand.
“I have to ask you,” he said after a minute, his face turning back to look out the front window. “What’s a nice girl like you doing mixed up in this shit?”
“Nice girl?” I laughed. “I’m a spook, dude. I’m about as far from nice as you can get.”
“No, I get why Max wants you dead. I’ve read your file. Reagan Baine knows how to kill a man seven different ways using only her pinky. Blah, blah, blah. I meant those two back there. You don’t strike me as a whore.”
“I’m not a whore,” I growled, carefully sliding the poison dart in the hair clip out of the plastic carriage. “And it’s only six ways.”
He reached for the gun that he’d placed under his thigh, but I was faster. With one quick jab, I jammed the tip of the steel dart into his throat. His fingers curled into his palms as the poison instantly made his muscles seize, his eyes were bulging. He’d already lost the ability to breathe. As his face reddened then took on a purple hue, I had to turn away. I’d known his death wouldn’t be painless, but I’d had no idea how horrible it would look to watch the experimental drug take someone’s life.
As I got to my feet and climbed around the other side of chair, trying to avoid his body, he slumped forward, completely dead in under a minute. I guess those military scientists did know what they were doing.
I yanked open the door to find Ash and Cyrus dressed, though Cyrus was only wearing pants and shoes since it had been his shirt I’d stolen. They were each holding a gun in their hands and had jumped to their feet at the sound of the lock turning over.
“So,” I said, leaning on the doorframe and looking at them both. “I don’t suppose either of you knows how to fly a plane?”
“What happened?” Ash asked as he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. “Are you all right?”
“I appear to be,” I said as I pulled away. “Though I wouldn’t say no to my pants at the moment.”
As I reached for my own pile of clothes, the men rushed past me to the front of the plane. I leaned on one of the seats for balance as I shimmied into my pants then slid on my shoes. Damn, it felt better to be clothed.
“Reagan,” Cyrus called from the cockpit.
“Yeah?”
“Why is there a bobby pin sticking out of this guy’s neck?”
“It’s a barrette, and it’s in his throat,” I corrected him as I walked toward them. “And you should probably answer my question first as it’s a little more pressing. Can either of you fly a plane?”
“Sure,” Ash said with a shrug. “Flying is the easy part.”
“Son of a bitch,” I groaned, my face falling into my palm. “Can either of you land a fucking airplane?”
The silence was so thick I felt its weight pressing down on me. I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, burying my head into both of my hands and trying not to scream or cry or throw up.
“It’ll be okay,” Cyrus assured me, his fingers on my shoulder making me jump. I hadn’t heard him walk over to me. “Relax, babe. We’ll figure something out. Ash is super smart, and if nothing else, there are plenty of parachutes—”
“Fuck that!” I yelled, glaring up at him. “I am not jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. How much fuel do we have?”
“Well,” Ash said as he glanced around the controls. “If the gas is this one, then we’re really good. But if it’s this one, I’d say we’ve got about an hour to figure something out.”
“Can you tell where we are?” I held a hand out to Cyrus so he could help me to my feet. He pulled me into his arms and placed a small kiss on the tip of my nose before releasing me to go see Ash.
The pilot was now on the floor. It looked as if they’d just shoved him aside as Ash took his place behind the controls.
“It looks like there’s another eight hours on the flight path,” Ash said, looking at one of the indicators that just looked like lines and Morse code dots to me. “So we’re probably good on fuel after all.”
“So this line here,” I pointed to one of the vertical bars on the screen, “is probably US air space?”
“I would imagine since this is all ocean right here.” He waved his finger in a large circle. “We’re probably good for now, but once we hit the US, they’re going to want some kind of radio communication, and I’m not sure what to tell
them.”
“I’d better call the captain,” I said with a sigh.
* * * *
“Hey, Dad,” I said when he answered, his tone gruff and wide awake though it was the middle of the night. “How’s it going?”
“Reagan, what the hell could you possibly want?”
“Well, thanks, Father, it’s nice to hear your voice, as well. I’m fine, by the way, thank you for asking. Even though the pilot you hired to fly this beautiful airplane tried to kill all of us. I appreciate your concern.”
“What?” And he finally sounded like a human with emotions instead of that dead robot thing he usually did with me. “Hector tried to kill you?”
“Hector? Um, this guy didn’t look like a Hector to me. Maybe a Hans. Or a Hansel. Possibly even Gretel. But definitely not a Hector.”
“What happened?”
I gave him a brief rundown of what had transpired. He swore a few times, but didn’t really interrupt me, which was nice.
“You used the dart?” he asked when I’d finished the story.
“Yeah.”
“Did it work?”
“Obviously.” I hoped my tone conveyed the ignorance of his question. “But it looked really painful. They might want to see if they can find a way to counter that.”
“I’ll let them know,” he murmured, and I heard him writing something down. “Let me call around and see if we have a carrier we can drop you on. I don’t want you landing at an airport with a corpse if we can help it. In fact, I don’t want you in US airspace with that body. I’ll call you back.”
The line went dead, and I sighed as I dropped my head back onto the seat. It had been the longest twenty-four hours I could ever remember. And now, we were discussing three people who didn’t know how to land a plane trying to learn how with a moving target on a huge-ass body of water. Fabulous.
