Page 133 of Paint the Town, Dove

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I pulled him in, wrapping my arms around his neck, taking his bottom lip in between my teeth.

His response sent me over the edge as our tongues melted together in perfect synchronicity, fingers tearing the exposed string of my thong, as he hoisted my leg over his waist.

I hadn’t done this in such a long time.

I hadn’t felt someone’s touch since –

“This is your pace,” he whispered against my lips, reading my thoughts. “I’m at your mercy.”

…

I’m at your mercy.

…

I’m at your mercy.

…

I’m at your fucking MERC –

“Dove, hey,” Ryden’s hands were on my shoulders, snapping me to reality. “You good?”

Pipe down, Scarlett. Jesus.“Plane rides always make me antsy, you know that.”

There was a curve to his lips. “The girl who fears nothing, afraid of private jets.”

I rolled my eyes. “Youmake me antsier than planes.”

He leaned in. “Recent events have shown that.”

In one swift motion, he lifted my luggage and stored it in the Cadi, regrouping with the rest of his band, Morty, and Barnett.

Not even a glance back.

Just leave me breathless, why don’t you.

“Are you all ready to go, Ms. Emory-Blake?” Caralee asked, keys in hand. She was referred to me by Tav a little after I came for Avenue records (and Ryden’s shitty ex with it). Let’s just say, I made a few enemies.

I’d have a lifetime more of that.

For safety reasons, Caralee was the best bet. An ex-marine, small but mighty. We boxed a few times.If you want to call her six-to-zero an even match.

She was badass, she had fire.

I liked fire.

My eyes flitted over to the boys’ SUV. Ryden was leaning against the window, twirling his guitar pick between his fingers. He wore a smile, accepted the flask from Donny, and glanced in my direction.

“Don’t drink too much before the flight,” I mouthed. Always protecting. Even on a holiday.

He nodded, pressing his lips to the centre of his guitar pick, then rolled up his window.

I blushed, snuggling into my seat.

“Everyone buckled?” Caralee called, warming the engine.

“Good as gold, Cara!” Zayla peeped. “Pollllyyyy, quit it with the emails –”

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