Page 43 of Dirty Delivery

His lips twitch into a smirk. “Just a couple of things. Don’t worry about it.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small,nondescript phone, handing it to me. “Take this. It’s a burner. If anything happens—and I mean anything—call me. My number’s already programmed in.”

I take the phone, the plastic feeling foreign in my hand. “Do you really think something could happen?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer. “No. But I’m not taking chances, mo stóirín. Lock the doors and relax. You’re safe here.”

His words, paired with the sincerity in his eyes, make it hard to argue. I nod, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before heading out the door.

Once he’s gone, I wander aimlessly through the house, trying to shake the sense of unease. The quiet feels oppressive. I flip through channels on the TV, skim the spines of books on the shelves, and eventually settle on the patio to watch the waves. The view is breathtaking, but my thoughts keep drifting to Rylan. What’s he really up to? And why do I feel like he’s not telling me everything?

Rylan

The drive back to town is quick, but my mind won’t stop spinning the entire way. Savannah’s settled into the house better than I expected, but the thought of her there alone tugs at my gut. I’ll be fast. Just in and out.

I pull into the parking lot ofVelvet & Vice, a high-end adult boutique tucked discreetly on a side street. The exterior is sleek, with frosted glass windows and a sign so understated most people wouldn’t notice it unless they knew what they were looking for. I’ve been to similar places, but this one is new to me,recommended by a friend a while back. It’s the kind of spot that promises discretion—and quality.

The bell above the door chimes as I step inside, and the cool air conditioning hits me instantly. The store smells faintly of vanilla and leather, and soft jazz plays in the background. A tall, impeccably dressed woman behind the counter greets me with a knowing smile.

“Welcome to Velvet & Vice,” she says, her voice smooth with a faint trace of teasing. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

I nod politely. “Just browsing.”

She gestures toward the back. “Take your time.”

I make my way through the aisles, scanning the shelves. Delicate silk ties, sturdy leather cuffs, and an array of toys line the displays. My hand lingers on a velvet blindfold. I toss it into the basket. Next, I pick up a sleek bottle of massage oil, its label promising a warming sensation upon contact. Perfect.

My gaze lands on a set of restraints—elegant but functional. The kind of thing I know Savannah would be both curious and hesitant about. The thought of introducing her to this side of me sends a surge of anticipation through me, but I shove it down. There’s time for that later.

Finally, I grab a compact vibrator—simple, discreet, and something I’m certain will drive her crazy in the best way. My attention wanders to a set of anal plugs and a bottle of specialized lube, their sleek designs enticing me. I add them to the basket without hesitation, imagining how much she’ll enjoy exploring new sensations with me—or at the very least, how much I’ll enjoy guiding her there. The basket is heavier than I planned for it to be, but I’m not about to second-guess myself.

At the counter, the woman raises an eyebrow as she rings up my purchases. “Someone’s going to have a very good night.”

I smirk and hand over my card. “That’s the idea.”

She slides the items into a sleek black bag and extends it to me with a wink. “Enjoy.”

By the time I’m back on the road, the sun is beginning to set, casting the town in hues of orange and gold. The bag rests on the seat beside me, its contents a promise of what’s to come. But as eager as I am to get back to Savannah and the peace we’ve found, there’s a nagging thought in the back of my mind.

The Castillos aren’t done. I know that much. And as much as I’d love to lose myself in her tonight, I can’t ignore the storm still brewing on the horizon.

I take the long way back, circling through side streets and quieter roads to make sure no one’s tailing me. Paranoia has kept me alive this long, and I’m not about to start ignoring my instincts now.

When I finally pull into the driveway, the sight of the house loosens the knots my stomach has tied itself in. Warm light spills from the windows, a stark contrast to the darkening sky. For a moment, I sit in the car, staring at the bag on the passenger seat and letting the tension drain from my shoulders. This life isn’t easy, but with Savannah, it feels like it might be worth it.

Carrying the bag inside, I find her curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs. She glances up as I enter, her eyes questioning but soft.

“Did you get everything you needed?”

I smirk and hold up the bag. “More than enough, mo stóirín.”

Her gaze lingers on the bag, curiosity flashing across her face, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she scoots over with a pat to thespace next to her. “Sit. You’ve been running around enough for one day.”

I drop down beside her, and the warmth of her presence eases something deep inside me. Whatever storm is coming, we’ll face it together. But for now, it’s just us, the ocean, and the quiet promise of what lies ahead.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Savannah

The savory aroma of garlic and herbs wafts through the air as Rylan moves effortlessly around the kitchen. He’s chopping vegetables with precision, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each slice. It’s oddly mesmerizing. For a guy who spends most of his time exuding raw dominance, watching him cook is almost domestic—almost.

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