Everything had happened too fast. Bullets ricocheted through the room as Dorian grabbed Noelle from the floor. “We gotta go! We have to go now!” he screamed at her. He never released her hand as he began to run through the pane glass window and down into the icy river.
6 Hours Earlier
Kyle still hadn’t returned. Noelle tried his number once more, only to be sent to voicemail once again. “Dammit Dad!” she exclaimed, launching the phone between the seat cushions. Dorian looked up from the laptop at her, eyebrow raised. “Still no answer?”
“He’s the most impetuous man I have ever met. Like a child. No wonder he couldn’t raise one,” she said to herself, pacing the floor in front of the window. Dorian sighed and poured some tequila into a glass and walked it over to her. “Relax. Please, for two seconds. You’re making me crazy,” he said. He pressed the glass into her hand and guided her back to the loveseat. His eyes concentrated on her neck as she dumped the alcohol down her throat. “He’s up to something,” she said, standing again and pouring herself another. “You said he needed your help. He can’t be.”
“You don’t know him,” she said, her voice raspy as she swallowed the burning liquid and pouring another. “This is a man who disappeared for YEARS and left me on my own. He’s capable of anything…”
Dorian found himself at her side, taking back the glass. “Hey…relax. Please,” he cooed. The tequila was already swimming to her head and warming the deepest parts of her. She’d been alone with this stunning man for hours and all she wanted was for him to toss her to the floor and have his way with her. The distance between them was shrinking, her fingers barely touching the fabric on his jeans. He watched her lips open and close, as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
There were no fireworks. Relief spread through him as he brushed his hands across her face and kissed her lightly. Her lips were as soft as he imagined and he kissed her again, longer and deeper. She snaked her hands around his waist and pulled him against her, pinning herself to the counter. His hands wound down her neck and shoulders, warm and rough on her skin. Their movements seemed synchronized as he lifted her onto the counter and she swallowed him between her thighs. Noelle wasn’t sure she would be able to stop herself this time, nor did she want to. “Are we really doing this?” he said into her mouth. “Shut up,” she said before she started undressing him.
They had to be what the other needed. Noelle needed to feel like her life wasn’t spiraling towards a 3×6 prison cell with no human interaction. Dorian needed a sign from the universe that the whole world wasn’t hard, cruel and cold. Noelle buried her fury into him, grinding her hips into his on the cold marble floor. The tequila had melted her worry away and created the fearless beast straddling him. Dorian pulled her closer and snapped his mouth around her nipple, releasing a moan from her. She shivered and clamped tighter around him, ready for the orgasm that would send her reeling. Before she could, he rolled her over and positioned her on her hands and knees to enter her again. He gave her all he had in rough but slow strokes, wrapping his hands around her throat and pulling her close to him.
He nipped on her earlobes as he felt her tighten around him again. He stopped moving, trying to torture her before letting her finish. She ground her ass into him, but he gripped her tighter around her waist to hold her there. “Say it,” he said, biting the flesh on her ear again. He slid himself through her again and stopped. “Say it,” he said, his fingers bouncing over the slick ridges between her thighs. “Please…don’t stop,” she whispered, her hands wrapping over his. He began again, rougher, deeper, her moans echoing through the kitchen. He released her, bucking behind her faster and faster before he slipped into his own trance. He grunted and groaned as his mind shut off and for a moment, he was overcome with relief and pleasure.
They redressed and went on. Noelle found herself in the other room, dialing her father’s number again. Dorian stood in front of the windows, regaining the feeling in his legs and sipping from the glass he’d taken from her. It was the first time in a long time that he felt normal; not broken hearted and drunk, but like his old self.
This moment of clarity is how he heard the door click open slowly. He froze, listening for footfalls or for Kyle to call out for his daughter but he heard nothing. He dipped behind the couch and waited. He could see three men enter, guns drawn. The first man waved his fingers, signals for the others to split up and search. Dorian swore to himself for leaving his ankle piece on the table in front of the couch. He needed to move, grab Noelle and get out without being seen, heard or shot. He could hear her leaving another voicemail for her father, catching the attention of the leader.
“Shit,” Dorian whispered to himself. So much for that plan. As the man drew closer, Dorian sprung from his hiding place, seizing the gun. He threw his elbow into the man’s face twice until he dropped the piece. The other gunmen turned and fired at them, missing Dorian who ducked into the room where Noelle stood. She had dropped to the floor when she heard the gunfire. “We need to go! We need to go no–!”
Automatic fire tore through the door and towards the duo. Dorian grabbed her and headed for the window, throwing both of them into the icy tundra below. It felt as if knives were being dragged across their skin as they broke the surface. They could hear the men arguing above them as they dipped below, to hide. “I know I got one of them!”
“Yeah, Roy. Lot of luck that does us,” the second man said as they peered out the broken window into the black water. “They’re dead.”
“He wanted the girl.”
“She’s at the bottom of a river. He’ll understand.”
Dorian and Noelle swam away, down the river, away from the warehouse. They collapsed when they reached the shore, the adrenaline still pumping through their veins. “Well…that wasn’t fun,” Dorian said, trying to lighten the mood.