Be Careful What You Wish For(4)

Damn, that was good.
She moaned once more, and he opened his eyes to look at her face.
Her eyes were large and brown in her face, pixie eyes, he thought with bitter bemusement. Not the kind of eyes you should find on a working girl. She had pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose, and she bit her lip nervously as she searched his face. The gesture drew his attention to her lips, and he studied them thoughtfully. They were full, slightly chapped. He imagined kissing them, knowing full well she’d probably bite him if he tried. At least he hoped she would. He liked a woman with a little spark.
She didn’t seem to have much fight left in her at the moment, but she’d sure given him a run for his money earlier. He’d actually thought for a moment that she might get away from him.
He wondered what she was thinking, and then decided he didn’t care. She was sexy as hell. He looked lower, and realized that if they had more light he’d probably be able to see right through her wet shirt. As it was, he could see the faint outline of her bra. It must be black, he realized, to stand out like that. He closed his eyes, imagining her rounded, pouty breasts draped in wisps of black lace. He groaned and rocked her forward over his cock.
He didn’t want to think about how many men she’d had; he wanted to think about the soft, warm spot between her legs. He wanted to thrust up into her so hard she screamed. He imagined doing it, and his hips bucked up at her again. The friction of their clothes rubbing felt almost painful to his sensitive flesh, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Grasping her hips firmly in his hands, he lifted her slightly and then rubbed her down the length of his cock. He did it again, repeating the motion until he thought he’d die.
Tension spiraled down toward his groin, building with each motion until he thought he might burst right out of his pants.
Or worse yet, burst in them.
He reached down, determined to free his length from the imprisoning cloth. She could touch him, wrap her fingers around him and massage him right there. It would be amazing, the most perfect sensation he could imagine.
Let her earn her keep; they all had to do their part.
But even as he wormed his hand between them, the van came to a stop and Del turned to look at him with a toothy, humorless grin.
“You’re lucky,” he said, “Valzar’s come up in the world. He’s got a private jet with a bedroom. I suggest you wait until you’re on board before doing anything else. We’re not out of the woods yet, you know.”
Sean nodded, knowing Del was right. He’d already wasted precious time hunting Williams; his deal for protection and cover from the CIA wasn’t worth a damn if he didn’t even make it out of the country. The locals were still trying to catch him. Hell, he was kind of surprised they weren’t waiting for him at the airstrip. For once, though, his luck seemed to be holding. The door on the side of the van slid open, and a dark-skinned man in a loose shirt and jeans smiled at him.
“I see you haven’t changed, amigo,” Valzar said in his soft, lightly accented voice. “Always a girl in tow.
Let’s board the plane—we’ve been waiting for you. It hasn’t occurred to your stupid gringo prison guards to shut down the airspace around here, but they’ll figure it out soon enough. Let’s leave before they think of it.”
Sean smiled, unexpectedly pleased to see Valzar. Damn, he’d missed the man.
“Out,” he said, pushing the woman off his lap and ahead of him as he jumped down onto the tarmac. In the distance he could see Valzar’s plane—small, sleek and fast.
“You’ve come up in the world, friend,” he said, giving the man a hug. The woman stood next to them awkwardly; he didn’t bother watching her. Del eyed her coldly, fingering his gun.
Valzar took his arm and started walking him toward the plane. Del followed, pushing the woman along beside them. His little bird wouldn’t get away while Del stood guard.
“You’re a lucky man, Sean,” Valzar said. “Deals like this one don’t come along very often. We all thought you were long lost.”
“I thought I might be, too,” Sean said. He’d been out of his prison cell less than four hours, but already it seemed like some kind of horrible dream.
He’d rather die than go back.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked, nodding toward the plane. “I know you must have paid them to help me escape, not to mention the tab for that little beauty.”
“When I heard that an opportunity was coming, I couldn’t resist,” Valzar said, shrugging with Latin elegance. “Don’t worry about the money. We’re partners, remember? You still have plenty of cash lying around, you know. I’ve been taking good care of it for you.”