Jacques: Y T: Giving go ahead J: K.

Next came texts to Jordan again.

Thomas: Go ahead Jordan: K. Photo next T: Great "We have twenty minutes, at most," Jordan announced, putting the phone down. "Might take that long to get a good shot, get down here, and take a photo. Let's get started."

Riley agreed and chose a location away from a rug they didn't want to ruin. He flopped down as naturally as he could, as if killed on his feet, then relaxed his whole body to let it end up in a final position. Kris approached with a turkey baster full of the fake blood, which she'd been stirring to keep from congealing. Riley lifted his head and she squeezed out a healthy amount into the center of where his head had lain. Once finished, she stepped away and Riley put his head down in the ooze. He closed his eyes and everyone but Jordan stepped out of the room just in case a shadow got picked up in the shot. She took over forty photos-some headshots, some full shots, and from different angles, intending to send only one or two.

"Okay, Riley," she began, "don't move. Let me pick the best one." She flipped through them and found a suitable death pic, then attached it to a text message on her phone and hit send. "Here goes."

Jordan: Proof Thomas: Great work J: Thx. Pay me :) T: Hold on "s.h.i.t," said Jordan, frowning. The curse prompted Riley to open his eyes but otherwise stay still.

"What?" Quinn asked, coming forward.

"Nothing major," Jordan answered, flipping to her bank account app. "I just realized he can stall on paying the rest, thinking I'll be dead in a second. He probably won't pay. No big deal. Otherwise, he's accepted the proof. We'll just need to do the other pic in a minute."

"Okay," Quinn replied. "Don't move, Riley."

The Marine grunted his agreement, as Jordan turned back to her phone.

Jordan: Speed it up Thomas: Coming Jordan doubted that but decided to let it go. The other half million would be nice, regardless of the reason for sending it, but she wasn't going to stall staging the photos over it. A message came through on Jake's phone, which Riley had left on a table. Jordan picked it up.

Thomas: She's done. Do it now Jacques: My pleasure.

"a.s.shole," she said, putting the phone down. "Okay everyone, time to stage my death. Riley close your eyes."

"Yes, dear," he joked.

Jordan took the position they'd decided she'd be in. With help from Chloe, she carefully put the mask over her head. Then she flopped down much the same way Riley had, five feet from him on the floor. Once set, she lifted her head and Kris dribbled a pool of fake blood behind her skull on the floor. Then Jordan settled her head in it. Chloe carefully pulled the mask up above Jordan's hairline, letting it lightly touch the wound so that a smear of blood brushed across the forehead, but the fake bullet wound stayed in place. Jordan closed her eyes.

"That looks pretty convincing," remarked Kris, grudgingly.

"Yeah, it does," agreed Chloe, sounding more pleased with her handiwork as she and Quinn got out of the room.

"Time for pics." Kris grabbed Jake's camera and took a few dozen, some focused just on Jordan and others showing both of them. She and her sister then selected the best ones and concluded they were set.

"Okay guys," Chloe began, "time to rise from the dead."

The two victims got up and used a towel to wipe some of the fake blood from the backs of their heads, where it had matted their hair. Quinn then began mopping up the floor while the snipers looked at the photos, nodding their approval.

"These are great," said Riley, eyes gleaming. "Let's send one of just you and one of both of us."

"Good idea." Jordan opened the messenger app and sent the two best shots.

Jacques: The b.i.t.c.h is done Thomas: Great!

J: Leaving now. Check in later. Few days. Going dark T: Great work!

Jordan put Jake's down phone and sighed. "Okay. The a.s.shole bought it. He shouldn't see us coming."

"Good," said Riley, "because now I'm really looking forward to killing him."

Chapter 11 Security.

Having completed staging their own deaths, Jordan and Riley needed to clean up. Seeing each other with a pretend bullet wound in the head was both amusing and sobering, for that could've been all too real yesterday. Kris hadn't said much else, but Quinn had remarked on that himself, prompting Jordan to quickly pull the fake wound from the Marine.

As they cleaned off upstairs in the hall bath with the door still open, they overheard Kris say she was returning to the barn to give a lesson. Quinn and Chloe said they'd finish up and then head to Comus Winery. Jordan wondered if his family was giving them some s.p.a.ce, which was what she wanted. She understood their reservations about her and she liked that they were protective of Riley, which made her want to prove to them that she felt the same way. But their discomfort was also a black cloud that she could live without.

It seemed that black clouds had been hanging over her head since the bomb that killed her parents destroyed her world. With Jake dead, she was almost in the clear, but she wanted more than just Thomas thinking she was dead. She couldn't help wanting this all over with right now.

Part of her didn't want to go back to Paris and deal with him, but she owed Riley her life and he wanted to find out who wanted him dead, which she understood, but they thought Riley was already dead, too. Wasn't that good enough? If no one ever came looking for them, they didn't have to worry. She knew that they'd never really feel certain about that. Jordan could disappear and no one would ever know, but someone could come looking for Riley here.

She wanted to return to her family, but there was some possibility they were still being watched for signs of her. It seemed unlikely. Either Thomas believed she was dead or he didn't. Then again, why should she bother with worrying about what he believed when a bullet to his head would take care of the problem? Jordan sighed, unsure what to do. She just wanted to be free.

"What's the matter?" Riley asked, hearing the sigh.

She put on a good face, eyeing him in the mirror, the fake bullet hole already removed from his forehead. That made her feel better already. "Nothing. I just want all of this finished."

"Soon enough, sweetie. We have a free day here. We've already done our work."

"What should we do?"

With a smirk, he said, "Each other. Let's get cleaned up and get naked."

She turned and put both arms around his neck. "Are you going to take advantage of me again?"

"d.a.m.n right."

Riley's mouth closed around hers and Jordan melted into him. It seemed that life itself flowed through his lips into hers, into lungs that began to heave with pa.s.sion. A deep moan escaped her, Jordan's body coming alive. Nipples ached, pressing against the soft cotton of her shirt. Her p.u.s.s.y spasmed, wetness gathering inside, a tingling sensation spreading to her thighs. She opened her mouth to slide her tongue out only to find his tongue greeting hers possessively, hungry, probing, and in command. Jordan relaxed into surrender despite the sudden pounding in her heart.

Riley's hand slid into her long hair, running it through his fingers before cupping the back of her head and crushing her lips to him. She couldn't escape and didn't want to, those powerful arms holding her tight. She almost felt helpless, like a little girl in the grip of a man, the sense of vulnerability causing a gush of her essence to soak her panties. The reaction startled her. But she gave in.

Riley broke the kiss and thrust both hands under her shirt. "I want your t.i.ts in my mouth."

"G.o.d, yes."

His thumbs caressed her belly, moving toward her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, raising the shirt with them. She pressed into his grip as he firmly closed over each mound under the bra, and only then did she realize he'd already unfastened the hooks. For all his strength, he was gentle, more so than she'd even hoped. Nipples stiffened into the palms of his hands, which he kneaded and squeezed, engorging the peaks to twin spires that demanded attention. He stopped long enough to yank the shirt and bra off, throwing them carelessly away before crouching to engulf one breast in his hot mouth.

"Don't stop," she panted.

Jordan threw back her head, long hair tickling her back. With both hands, she reached down and undid her jeans b.u.t.ton, then the zipper, letting Riley concentrate on her flesh. He obliged. Suckling sounds filling the air as he devoured one breast, pumping it with his aggressive slurping. His hard tongue ravished the nipple. With his other hand, he traced her other areola before plucking the tip. Jordan could smell her p.u.s.s.y even through the jeans, which her hands tore at.

Riley decided to help, pulling his mouth away to thrust her pants and panties down to her knees. The cool air sent a shiver over her wet folds, where sweet nectar glistened like honey. Suddenly he turned away from her and dropped to his knees, ripping off his shirt, which fell in tatters to the tile floor.

"Bend over," he commanded, voice husky. "Grip the sink."

Jordan obeyed, the presentation of her p.u.s.s.y to him causing tremors that made her legs shake. Without warning, Riley used both hands to powerfully thrust her a.s.s apart, his wide, soft tongue licking her p.u.s.s.y from top to bottom in one long, even, slurp.

"Oh my G.o.d!" Jordan clenched the porcelain hard, feeling wonderfully exposed but in good hands. Literally.

Riley then tongue-f.u.c.ked her, the slippery muscle darting in and out at speeds that had her gasping. She wanted more, and something harder. But Riley had patience and self-control; she saw his hard c.o.c.k straining against his jeans but he paid it no mind, all focus on her pleasure. At times his tongue slowed to seek her c.l.i.toris with a purposefulness that drove her wild, like a snake after its prey, delving between her folds until finding the taut bud. The first contact made her stiffen, bolts of l.u.s.t rocketing up to her nipples and back to her p.u.s.s.y, which began to spasm. The familiar weight of release grew rapidly and Jordan thrust her crotch against his mouth as she o.r.g.a.s.med, a series of low moans erupting from her. Her knees almost failed, but Riley shoved her a.s.s upward as if to hold her in position.

"You taste so good, Jordan."

She shuddered. "Do you want seconds?"

"f.u.c.k yeah."

His tongue went back to work, offering no reprieve, lashing her relentlessly. Something about the firm hold on her a.s.s, the soft wet muscle, and the way he ravished her with formidable vigor, like some pillaging marauder, had Jordan's legs failing her. She leaned all her weight on the pedestal sink. A breath hissed from her when the next eruption swiftly built to a crescendo, a loud cry echoing as she came again.

And then he let go of her, his face buried in her p.u.s.s.y, as she collapsed back on her heels so that she was practically sitting on his face. The sound of his jeans being undone made her suddenly feel like she had no say in anything anymore, but instead of fear, she felt only exhilaration. A girl dreams of a man who knows exactly what he's doing, does it well, takes control masterfully, and is still gentle, respectful, but firm, commanding, and in control. And if her mind somehow hadn't gotten the message that Riley Kendall was that man, her body knew it and screamed "Yes!"

He roughly stood up, pants around his ankles like hers. From behind, he grabbed her by both hips and brought his c.o.c.k's head against her p.u.s.s.y.

"Ready?"

"Always."

She thrust back onto him and both groaned in delight. Riley's c.o.c.k disappeared into her p.u.s.s.y to the hilt, the ease with which she accepted him causing her to push back even more, as if to make sure he had all of her. They just stood there a moment, purring their ecstasy. Jordan had never been so filled with life. It coursed up and down her body, especially when he went to work on her again. He slid out, then back in, and she braced for losing herself, heart racing wild in antic.i.p.ation.

Not content to just please himself as he began pounding her p.u.s.s.y, Riley used his hands to good advantage, stroking, pinching, and squeezing everything he could reach. He slapped her a.s.s with a loud smack, causing a gasp of surprise and then pleasure as blood rushed to engorge the area, making everything more sensitive. Her legs shook. And then he struck her firm cheek again. Jordan hissed a breath. Another smack on the other side and her p.u.s.s.y throbbed, the combination of pain and pleasure overtaking her.

Jordan reveled in the sound of their flesh colliding and echoing off the tiles, mingling with their grunts of satisfaction. It didn't take long for the o.r.g.a.s.m to build, jolts of pleasure coursing all along his c.o.c.k, which she squeezed lovingly. She came with a silent scream and writhed against him. Riley cried out and erupted inside her, hot c.u.m splashing her womb. Hearing his labored breathing and delighted moans brought a big smile to her face.

She leaned her head against the cool porcelain. She'd never had s.e.x like this. Jake had been able to make her hot, but he was all about pleasing himself and touching her just to get her guard down. Once he was inside her, it was all about him.

She felt so much more deeply connected to Riley, not for the obvious reason-o.r.g.a.s.ms that shattered all boundaries and walls she had up-but because of something about the way he touched her. Even while thrusting, he kept his attention on her instead of himself. He was the definition of a generous lover, pleasing her not because he was submissive, but because he was masculine and enjoyed ravishing her. She suspected he did that to all women, but that didn't bother her, as long as he was still doing it to her. She resolved to step up her efforts and show him that two could play that game. But not right now. She could barely stand, the o.r.g.a.s.m still pulsing down her weak legs.

She finally straightened and leaned her head back on his shoulder. "So wonderful."

"Mmm. Yes, it was. Still is."

"We should spend all day doing this."

He laughed and held her close, nuzzling the nape of her neck. "I love the way you think."

After sharing a deep kiss, they got into the shower and quickly cleaned up, his slippery hands stroking sensitive flesh. As they washed, she trembled, less from physical arousal than because Riley was stirring something deep inside her. Something that she'd kept shut down for a long time. Though they were in a guest bathroom and not a master bedroom, she suddenly felt like they were playing house, or pretending to be a couple interested in long term prospects, even though neither had discussed such things, or even hinted at them. It was too soon, of course, but she recognized the desire growing unbidden in her.

Is that what she wanted? To settle down? To stop running? Definitely yes to the latter. But staying in any one place seemed so alien. To not run was one thing. To put down roots was another. Didn't she belong with her family? Riley's family seemed cozy despite Kris's distrust, and being around them made her miss her family that much more, not that it had ever been like Riley's. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have someone be happy to see her for once? To miss her? To know what she'd been up to?

Wanting that but not being quite ready for it had her apprehensive about getting too close to Riley. If she thought about the new future coming and fantasized about it including such things, she'd fall apart. She and Riley had a mission to go on first.

Better hold it together, kiddo, she thought.

After the shower and getting dressed, they walked hand-in-hand downstairs, ending up on the couch, Jordan in Riley's lap, one arm around his shoulder. The place was still empty and no signs remained of their earlier ruse. She didn't want to think about that for the rest of today if she could avoid it.

"So what should we do now?" Jordan asked, kissing his temple.

He squeezed her. "Good question. If we're headed to Paris tomorrow, we need a flight."

"I can book that for us once your cousin lets us go."

"Hopefully he'll do that today. We can go anytime, really, but I'd like a show of cooperating. Less scrutiny from other police more than from him."

"Agreed. I have a place to stay in Paris, one that isn't being watched. Well, I thought so. s.h.i.t, maybe we should just go somewhere else. I don't want any surprises. After all of this, I don't really trust anything back there."

"Does Thomas watch airports or anything like that?"

"Probably, at least in France. Maybe we should fly into Spain and drive to Paris. They don't check pa.s.sports at the borders anywhere in Europe, or anywhere in the European Union, anyway, so he'll never know."

"I'll let you plan that. What about weapons? We shouldn't bring anything into the country much less try to leave the U.S. with guns or ammo. That really causes scrutiny. And a headache. Advance paperwork could take days, too."

She felt glad that he knew all about that also, though the Marines probably had easy ways of getting in and out of the country with such things while on active duty. It wasn't like they had to pa.s.s through a commercial airport and TSA screeners.

But she said only, "I have a stash that he doesn't know about. A few actually. It's easier to set up a base in different countries than to try moving stuff across borders. They trained me in that. It's actually how I got my guns here when I arrived. Jake, too, I'm sure."

"Makes sense."

"Let's talk plans later, though. I kind of want to just take a day off from this s.h.i.t."

He rubbed her back. "Okay. We have time, but I need to take care of a few things before leaving, so it can't be all fun and games."

She pretended to pout but just asked, "Like what?"

"I run security at the bike shop and winery, and sort of at the barn and inn, so I need to check in and make sure everything's fine before I go."

"When do you have time to do anything?" she joked.

Riley smiled. "I don't need to do much. Mostly just put in an appearance for intimidation. The word's been out that a Marine sniper does security at those businesses. Wanna come?"

"Sure."

"You can see the life you almost ended," he joked.

Jordan's face fell. That was a low blow and she hadn't expected something like that from him. She could tell he was joking, but still. It was the first time he caused her pain and she'd hoped for nothing like that. Feeling sudden sadness overwhelm her, she murmured, "I guess I deserve that."

Riley bit his lip, those soft eyes of his clouded. "I'm sorry. I was kidding. That was really in bad taste. Sometimes I don't think before I say something. Not a good excuse, but there it is. And no, you don't deserve that."

She nibbled on her own lip, sensing he really meant all of that. The wound began to close. "Did you get it out of your system?"

Riley squeezed her close. "I've never had a relationship start that way. I guess I need to let it go."

"If you can."