Pam Godwin - Deliver

“Nope.” Not even slow in the driveway. “But it still runs. I fired it up yesterday when you were in the shower.”

She stuffed the last shirt in and put her hands on her hips, staring at the sum of every possession she owned. “Where are we going?”

He opened a drawer and tossed a few shirts, briefs, and jeans on the bed. “We need to go to a bank, open an account, and transfer your funds. We need phones so my parents can call us. Oh, and helmets for the bike.” He sidled in front of her, prompting her to look up and meet his eyes. “We can go to Austin and live near Livana. Or we could call Camila. You think they have room for two more in their house?”

“Nine adults in one house?” She threw her head back and laughed, her gorgeous brown eyes alight with amusement.

Probably not the best idea, especially given the way the guys tracked her every move. “Tonight…” He wrapped his arms around her lower back and squeezed her addictive backside. “We’re staying in a hotel with no keypads and no parents and…” He scanned his room, his attention snagging on the hook behind his door. That would work. He released her, grabbed a leather belt from the hook, and held it out to her. “And this.” She could strap him to the bed or shackle his wrists or whip his backside. A pulse of warmth curled through his groin. He needed to buy more belts.

She took the one from his hand, folded it, and whacked her palm. Her upturned face glowed, her soft cheekbones curving with her smile. “You want me to beat your ass, you dirty slut?”

Her cool voice sent a shiver down his spine and stiffened his penis to a throbbing hard-on. “Yes, Mistress.”

She twisted her fingers through the hair at his nape, her long lashes blinking slowly. Then she pulled him down for a kiss that tunneled his vision and rocked his hips. She released him and stepped back. “Finish packing.”

He adjusted himself and returned to his dresser for one more thing. Digging beneath the clothes he would leave behind, he pulled out his favorite childhood toy. He clutched her wrist and set it on her palm. “I want you to have this.”

Her slim eyebrows pulled together, her face arranged in an adorable expression. “A Rubik’s Cube?”

The square stickers peeled at the edges, each of the six sides grouped by color. “I solved it when I was eight.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “Took me a year. I refused to undo it after I figured it out.”

“Wow.” She stared at it, confusion lingering on her face.

“It wasn’t the satisfaction of solving it that was meaningful. It was the experience in pursuing an endeavor of my choosing. I never found another puzzle I connected to the way I did with this one.” He touched her chin, held her eyes. “Until you.”

She clutched the cube to her chest and pulled his forehead to hers. “Thank you.”

He kissed her nose. “My jersey number was based on that cube. There’s fifty-four squares.”

A huge smile spread beneath her glistening eyes. “My name.”

Roman numeral LIV. His favorite number, his fate, his freedom.

An hour later, he hugged his dad in the driveway. The bike rumbled a few feet away. Liv stood beside him with everything they owned on her back.

“Love you, Dad.”

Dad squeezed him until his ribs complained.

Mom’s embrace was gentle but no less caring. “You call us as soon as you have a phone.”

“Yep.” He climbed on the bike under the remorseful gazes of his parents.

Their lips pressed tight, their expressions stony, but they were there to see him off. They loved him, and time and patience would soften their disappointment.

Liv straddled behind him and curled her arms around his waist, her thighs clenching his hips. He licked his lips and pointed his feet forward. A breeze ruffled his hair. The sun warmed his skin. His heart beat a steady, peaceful tempo.

He twisted his neck and collided with her eyes over his shoulder. “Where to?”

She didn’t look at the road. Didn’t gaze at the sweeping hillside. She raised her eyes to the sky and smiled.

Three months later, Liv gulped the cool air rushing through the open door and gripped the bench seat beneath her. The aluminum walls of the narrow cabin vibrated with the roar of the wind. Her palms collected sweat in the thick gloves. Her goggles steamed with humidity. And her smile was so big her cheeks hurt.

Josh sat on the bench across from her, his complexion a kaleidescope of grays and greens. He looked like he was going to throw up all over his red jumpsuit.

Mom had always said to reach for the sky, so she’d decided to do just that and followed Mom’s jump boots. Liv’s instructor position at the skydiving school outside of Austin enabled her to take Josh on his first jump without the nervous chatter of other newbie skydivers. It was just her and him and the sun-bleached sky.

She leaned forward and shouted over the shrill of the engine. “Changed your mind yet?”

He snapped his arms out and bellowed some kind of indiscernible battle cry. Then he flashed her a panty-soaking smile.

The man had balls, and fuck her but she loved those balls. She’d had them bound in a ball stretcher the previous night while she paddled his ass to a gorgeous shade of red. The memory kindled a damp heat between her legs. She wiggled, grinding her pussy against the seat.

His boot nudged hers. “You thinking about me?” he yelled.

She caught her lip between her teeth and shook her head, the whir of the turbo-props piercing her ears.

He’d transferred his classes to Austin University to pursue a teaching degree. He wanted to coach high school football. With only two semesters of schooling left, playing college ball wasn’t feasible. He shrugged it off, saying that wasn’t part of his Freedom Plan.

Mr. and Mrs. Carter called daily. They were warming to her but had yet to visit their rental house of bed-sharing-sin. The freedom fighters, on the other hand, popped in frequently. Overwhelmed with their sudden wealth, they spoke of the future with glimmering, wide eyes. A future that included her and Josh.

She visited Livana several times a week. It was surreal, sitting in Mr. E’s house, in the rooms she’d memorized from various camera angles. Her time with Livana filled that empty hole inside her. Some of that happiness included thoughts of Van. Despite the painful memories, she focused on his goodness with a tingling warmth in her face. Sometimes, while running errands or working in the yard at the rental, she’d feel a prickle on her spine and would catch herself squinting over her shoulder, scanning the street for a charcoal hoodie. He was out there somewhere, and she deeply hoped he found something worth living for.

Her gloved hand reached for Josh, and he caught it, squeezing her fingers, his smile cartwheeling through the wind.

The pilot shouted over his shoulder, “We’re one minute to drop zone.”

“Ready?” she mouthed.

“Yep.” He shook his head, still holding onto that sexy grin.

They shuffled toward the open door, weighted down by gear. She checked his emergency parachute one more time, spending unneeded seconds adjusting, tightening, and readjusting the harness between his legs. He laughed and ground his cock against her hand, the horny slut.

Satisfied with the buckles and position of the vest, she shifted his back to the open door with his heels touching the threshold. She grabbed his face, pressed her cheek against his, and shouted into the wind, “Trust me?”

He answered her with his tongue in her mouth, slashing and whipping, his lips strong and determined. His hands clutched the door frame with nothing but empty space behind him. She pulled back with a kiss on his bottom lip, cocked her head, and shoved his chest.

With an Oomph, he was gone.

The wind slapped at her body, thrashing her hair around her face. She sucked in a breath and leapt into the sea of blue, surrendering to the turbulence as it shot her through the air. She watched the plane fly away, her pulse thundering and her lips pulling away from her teeth. The shock to the heart was such a fucking thrill.

She flipped to face downward and spotted her entire world coasting above the curvature of the Earth. He arched his pelvis, limbs out and steady, adapting to his environment so easily, just like he always did. Christ, she loved him, and she would never let him get away.

She arrowed her body, her arms balancing her legs. Using velocity and angling to manipulate the aerodynamics around her, she gained on him.

With the wind deep in her ears and flapping her clothes, she reached out her arms and caught him. The gusts smothered his laugh, but his smile tangled around her, his eyes flickering through the goggles.

He entwined their legs, locked his hands around her back, and covered her mouth with his. Spinning them to descend heads down and feet up, she matched the elated movements of his tongue, answering his affection with the slide of her smiling lips.

Nothing compared to the freedom of floating in his arms.

He would say the hand of God was holding them up, delivering them.

She called it love. Her heart didn’t fall. It flew.