His Treasure: Chapter 12: Too far.

 

Sudie and Ryan

"We may fall," he said, even as he brushed her hands off his shirt and was about to lift it himself.

She swallowed hard. "We don't have to, but if we do, you're the only man I want to give my body to. I love you." She took his hand and placed it on her chest.

"I'm yours," she said. "All of me."

 

The Asset 

(Seven days later - Thursday)

The phone rang four times then stopped. Four more times, then the gruff, guttural sound of a masculine voice cut through the otherwise silence of the room. 

The man rolled onto his side and picked up his mobile phone on his night stand. His focus sharpened when he realized who was calling. He answered immediately.

"Wow," he grunted.

"Di big boss call. Him have a job available for special skills such as yours."

"Which big boss yah talk?" the man asked.

A shuffling sound came through on the line.

"Bun Out, nuh one big boss me and you have?"

"Mountain, mi nah play nuh games enuh?"

"A real someting man. Big boss says this one is a priority. She's a major asset to the crew right now." 

Bun Out’s interest piqued at the word asset. "Yeah? What kinda asset?"

"Is a doctor. Boss seh him will pay you well. Plus it can tek yuh mind off the boss's niece."

Bun Out hissed his teeth. "Mi nuh know weh yah talk bout!" he exclaimed.

Mountain chuckled softly. "Me hear things. Even big boss know seh yah dead over him niece. Him seh if you do this mission good him will mek sure yuh get her."

"Mi nuh know..." 

"Hanif, yuh interested or what?" 

"Strrrr! Arite. How much him ah pay mi?"

"Nuh worry yourself yah guh get yuh money. Yuh agree or not?"

Bun Out's eyebrows lifted.  A doctor? "She pretty? Di boss like her?"

Mountain hissed his teeth. "My yute focus!"

Bun Out grinned. "Okay, send mi di info."

"Arite," Mountain said and hung up.

Within a minute, Mountain aka Giant aka Dwayne sent him an email with details concerning the asset: her name, a picture of her dressed up at her university graduation, the address of her home and where she worked. 

Notes: Your objective is to guard her primarily as her shadow, but if that plan is compromised, big boss gives you permission to guard her close quarters. For that, you must gain her trust. Big boss says she's a little skittish. He also noted that if you guard close quarters you may have to manage her emotions. She suffers from panic attacks.

Bun Out read that twice. Panic attacks, eh? Interesting. He also found it intriguing that Mr Z would want to guard anyone outside of his immediate family. He must like this girl.

Another text came in. His heart rate spiked at what he saw. He let out a low whistle. That is a large amount of money. Mr Z must really like this girl.

He sent a reply. 

Bun Out: I accept the terms of the contract. 

Mountain: Noted. I will let Mr. Z know.

He lay back and waited. Ten minutes later he heard the ping of a notification.

He unlocked his phone screen and read.

Mountain: Alright, him seh Masters will wire half of the money to your account in an hour's time in small increments.

Bun Out chuckled. So he does like this one. He sent a reply.

Bun Out: Good. Tell him I'll get on it right away. 

He exited the chat, threw down his phone and went to the bathroom.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He had laid low the months after the fire at The Estate. He wasn't sure how Mr Z would feel about helping Tulloch. He thought that Tulloch was following orders from Mr Z. 

He didn't know that Tulloch had switched allegiance. Immediately, once he found out, he broke ties with Tulloch and made contact with Mountain, explaining that he didn't know this was a move against Z. He swore his loyalty to the Black Diamonds crew and reiterated that he only saw Z as its legitimate leader.

Mountain, through Z's son, conveyed the message. He was relieved when he got word that Z was willing to accept him and any other wayward 'soldier' back into the fold. He looked down at the long, thin burn scar running down his forearm to just above his wrist. 

He had paid dearly for that night. There was a larger burn scar across his back. That was healing well, but the one on his arm had gotten infected twice. He balled his hand into a fist and looked at the raised veins. He could show the scar to the cute, little female doctor.

He stepped into the shower and bathed quickly, making sure not to irritate the scar on his forearm with soap. There was a special ointment he used after washing it with a solution he had gotten from a clinic. After he dried off and stepped into the bedroom, he pulled out a drawer and pulled on some underwear. 

He was going for comfortable but tactical this time. His mother had sewed a secret knife compartment into a blue and white turtle neck shirt he was going to wear. He tucked a knife into the hidden section, zipped it up and smoothed his fingers over the small flap used to even out the stitch, thus hiding the secret pocket.

He rolled up the sleeve and looked at the scar. He slapped the skin several times until the area around the wound was red and swelling. "That's enough," he mused. The scar began to throb and itch. He went to his closet to retrieve a pair of blue jeans and blue and white sneakers.

He looked at the scar. It was oozing a pale, grey liquid. He took a breath and rolled the sleeve down. He grabbed his car keys and moved to the room in his house around the back. Behind the washing machine was a door. He punched in a code that made the door fly open. As he stepped into the room, motion sensors turned the lights on. 

Moving purposefully, he went to the centre of the room and stopped in front of his locked small glass gun mount. He bypassed his favorite Glock 19; as much as he loved its reliability, it was too bulky for today's assignment. For concealment, he reached for the Smith & Wesson M&P9 Shield, which was slim enough to be hidden against the waistband of his pants and under the blue and white turtleneck.

He retrieved a key from a small strong box concealed behind a four inch thick, six foot high concrete wall that had a bamboo staff and a traditional Japanese sword called a Bokken mounted on it.

He opened the case took out the Shield and smiled quietly to himself. He slid a sleek leather holster inside his jeans, securing it with the metal waistband clip. He smiled with satisfaction. He was going to enjoy this job.

He checked the watch on his left wrist. It was 3:30 in the afternoon on a warm, but not oppressively hot Thursday. He was looking forward to meeting Dr Jhonie Barnes and he had the perfect alibi to invade her personal space.

That'll leave a scar

By 5:00 p,m., Bun Out's car was in the hospital's parking lot and he was staring at its entrance. He wondered if she was still on duty. There was something he had to get out of the way. There was a girl he visited to ease his tension, a release valve to clear his head before he went on a mission. 

After their vigorous lovemaking session, the young lady complained that he was uncharacteristically rough with her. He apologized and gave her extra, just in case she needed to visit a doctor. He glanced at his watch again. 

5:07. Time to see if she's still there. 

He stepped out of the vehicle and armed it, then twirled the key fob on his index finger. In his rush to get to the hospital, he carelessly allowed soap to catch the wound on his forearm. It stung and throbbed with a pain that was becoming annoying to him. I hope I get to see Dr Barnes, he mused. He took out his phone and scrolled to the messages with him and Mountain. He took a careful look at her picture and placed his phone back in his pocket.

With long, confident strides, he pushed the hospital doors open and stepped into the chaotic world of the foyer. There was a man on the floor doubled over in pain while a nurse bent over him asking him what was wrong. Meanwhile, several junior doctors ran passed to assist with an accident trauma patient. A woman was sitting in a chair clutching a child who looked pale and weak. Right before them was a slender figure in a large overcoat, gently speaking to the mother and quietly reassuring her. 

Bun Out's focus narrowed on the woman, her child and the young female doctor in the oversized medical coat. He took out his phone and gave a furtive glance at Dr Barnes' photo. 'It could be her,' he thought, but he wasn't sure. He put back his phone and squared his shoulders.

He walked further into the room, observing the young woman closely. Just then, she turned her head and his eyebrows lifted as their eyes locked together. She faltered for a second, but caught herself and smiled politely at him. She walked behind him, entering a room with a white door. Bun Out took a shallow breath and exhaled. 

"She has another patient. How am I going to get her attention?" he grumbled.

Then an idea came to him. He approached the woman and daughter with a kind smile on his face.

By the time Dr Barnes had returned the woman and child were gone, and Bun Out was sitting where they were. Perplexed, Jhonie frowned. She stepped forward, a packet of medicine in her right hand. 

"Excuse me," she said, frowning.

Bun Out took his time looking up at her. 

"The woman and her daughter who were here a few minutes ago, did you see where they went?"

Bun Out shook his head and smiled politely. "No, I don't know where they went but maybe they left. I heard the woman complaining that it was taking too long."

Jhonie quickly scanned the room. The woman was gone. She was about to walk away her shoulders tight with frustration when Bun Out called out to her. "Doctor, please, I need attending."

Jhonie looked back at him. 'it's almost the end of my shift. I have to clock out. Another doctor will attend to you."

Bun Out stood up and moved closer. "Doc, you don't understand. My situation is serious." He lifted the left sleeve of his shirt. Jhonie's eyes widened in shock at the angry blisters along the length of the scar. She moved towards him. She touched his arm and pointed towards a door with the words 'Treatment Room' emblazoned on it.

"Um, just let me put this back where I got it and get to you."

He nodded. "Thank you." 

He opened the door and stepped inside. He sat on the examination table covered with white clean linen. After five minutes. Jhonie entered the room with a bottle filled with a dark liquid, Q-tips, cotton gauze and densely spun cotton balls. She smiled at him. Bun Out observed that she was already wearing latex gloves.

She pulled up a chair close to the examination table and sat down. She took the cotton balls and opened the bottle with the ointment. She blinked and pressed a tired hand to her forehead. She closed the bottle and put it on the floor beside the chair. She tucked the cotton balls in her coat pocket. "Oh wait," she said quietly. She whipped out a bottle filled with clear isopropyl rubbing alcohol. She took out a Q-tip, stood up, and looked around the room. She noticed a small gallipot on a shelf in the room."Gimme a sec," she said absentmindedly. 

She went to fetch it and looked at it, assessing how clean it was. Taking up the opened alcohol bottle, she broke the seal, and poured a little into the bowl, then tore off a piece of paper towel to smear the alcohol over it.

She came back to him, smiling. "Let me see your arm." He rolled up his sleeve and she leaned forward to examine the wound. "Good thing you came. It would have gotten infected and could have led to sepsis." Bun Out's eyelids flickered.

She poured a little of the clear alcohol into the gallipot and dipped the Q-tip in the liquid.

"This may sting," she said.

She carefully applied the soaked Q-tip to the areas that looked more inflamed.

Bun Out's body tensed, but he said nothing. He deliberately signaled a relaxed posture as she worked.

After twenty minutes and several used Q-tips later, she managed to clean the wound and was now applying the ointment. "Are you always this thorough?" Bun Out asked, his tone friendly.

Jhonie smiled. "I try to be," she answered, eyes still focused on the task.

"Well, it's working," Bun Out said, giving her a disarming, lopsided grin. "Most doctors treat you like a broken car on an assembly line. Quick glance, slap on a band-aid, and next in line please. You actually look like you care if the engine runs."

Despite her exhaustion, the charm in his voice caught her off guard. She didn't mean to, but a tiny, involuntary puff of laughter escaped her mouth.

Bun Out’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling. "Ah, see? There it is. I was starting to think smiles were against hospital policy."

"They're not," Jhonie murmured, her tone softening slightly as she dipped a fresh cotton swab into the ointment. "We just don't get many patients who try to audition for a comedy routine while getting their flesh patched up."

"Hey, if you don't laugh at the sting, the sting wins," he joked gently, his demeanor entirely relaxed, completely masking the purpose that Mr. Z had sent him.

Jhonie leaned closer, her fingers gently gripping his arm to hold it steady. To reach the upper edges of the inflamed skin, she carefully moved the sleeve of his blue-and-white turtleneck further up his shoulder. The fabric slid back, exposing his upper arm.

Jhonie froze. Inked into his skin was a detailed tattoo of a dagger snaking its way up his muscle. The sight of the blade hit her like a physical blow. The clinical room around her vanished, and suddenly, she wasn't standing in the bright examination bay anymore. She was pulled backward into a cold, suffocating memory from earlier that morning.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Dr. Barnes,” Dr. Scofield’s voice had snapped, cold and unyielding as he slammed her two-week leave request form onto his desk. "I am denying this. I will not sign it."

“I need time off,” Jhonie had pleaded, her hands trembling. "Mr. Z... he touched me. He assaulted me sexually in that cell, Dr. Scofield. I can’t go back in there.”

“And if you walk out that door on an unapproved leave, I will write an unfavorable review of your performance that will follow you for the rest of your medical career,” Scofield threatened, leaning forward.

"You want a concession? Fine. You don’t have to interact with Mr. Z for a full month while he’s locked up waiting for trial. But afterward, you go back to treating him. Next time, just make sure the guards are actually present in the cell at all times so nothing happens.”

The callousness of his words echoed in her ears, blending horribly with another memory—the smooth, chilling voice of Mr. Z himself during a past check-up, pointing to a jagged line on his own body: "That scar on my back? A knife attack from a rival gang member. "

"Doctor?" The soft voice cracked through the nightmare.

Jhonie gasped, her chest heaving as she was yanked out of the flashback. She realized Bun Out’s hand was lightly touching hers, a grounding pressure meant to snap her out of her daze. But in her panicked state, the touch felt like a threat.

"Don't!" Jhonie recoiled violently, pulling her hands back and dropping the ointment container onto the table. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at him, her breathing ragged. "I... I'm done. I'm done treating the wound. You can go now."

Bun Out looked at her, his eyes assessing her sudden panic with quiet intelligence. He didn't press her. He slowly stood up, adjusting his turtleneck down over the dagger tattoo, and began walking toward the exit. He was just about to pull open the door when Jhonie swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. Professional duty fought through her anxiety.

"Wait," she called out, her voice shaky but clear. Bun Out paused, turning back to look at her. Jhonie quickly grabbed a prescription pad, her pen scratching rapidly against the paper to mask the trembling in her fingers. "Take these," she said, holding out the slips. "This is a prescription for a topical antibiotic ointment for the wound, and oral antibiotics to prevent any deeper infection. Take the full course."

She looked at the angry, cleaned laceration on his arm one last time. "That'll leave a scar, unfortunately."

Bun Out took the papers from her hand, his disarming smile returning, warm and entirely reassuring. "As long as it gets better." He looked directly at her, his gaze lingering on her face with a gentle, appreciative warmth. "Thanks, Doc." Turning quietly, he stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

The sun had repositioned itself lower in the sky, casting long, haunting shadows across the hospital campus when Jhonie finally emerged from the main doors half an hour later. From the dark corner of a nearby building, Bun Out watched her. His eyes, trained to notice the slightest change in a target's demeanor, honed in on her immediately as she walked toward the designated pickup area to wait for her chartered taxi.

He couldn't get her reaction from earlier out of his head. The violent recoil. The sheer panic that had flooded her eyes before she shut him out. He couldn't quite define what he had seen in her gaze, whether it was fear of him, fear of the tattoo on his skin, or an aberration from her own past—but it bothered him.

What fascinated him even more, though, was his own reaction to it. In his line of work, vulnerability was a liability. Yet, seeing her unravel like that had instantly evoked a fierce, protective instinct in him. He hadn't just wanted to figure out what scared her; he had wanted to shield her from it.

A white sedan pulled up to the curb, and Jhonie stepped inside. The moment the taxi doors closed, Bun Out moved fluidly. There was no rush or panic in his stride, just the effortless, calculated quickness of a highly conditioned body. He slid into his own car, started the engine with a low purr, and pulled out into the evening rush hour traffic, maintaining a careful distance behind the taxi. He followed the vehicle through the city streets until it finally slowed down in a quiet residential neighborhood.

Bun Out pulled over, parking across the street a few houses down from her destination. Through the dark tint of his windows, he watched the taxi drive off, leaving Jhonie heading toward her front gate. Before unlocking the door, she paused and looked up, her eyes landing briefly on his vehicle. Bun Out sat perfectly still behind the glass. To Jhonie, the sleek, heavily tinted car didn't mean much; she simply assumed it belonged to a friend or family member visiting one of her neighbors.

She turned and went inside, closing the door behind her. Bun Out didn't leave. He scanned the immediate surroundings, assessing the vulnerabilities of the street, when a handwritten sign affixed to a gate directly across from his parking spot caught his eye.

For Rent: Two bedroom, one bathroom, and kitchen. Fully furnished.

A contact number was painted clearly at the bottom. A slow, calculating smile touched his lips. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed the number on the sign. He waited through two rings before someone picked up on the other end. "Hi, good evening. I saw your ad for a tenant. Yes, I'm interested in renting."

Ohh, Ryan!

(Eight Days Later - Friday)

They dropped him off at his apartment after two long hours of debriefing. Ryan was exhausted and looking forward to a nice warm shower and a couple hours of sleep before he went to see her. After a fifteen minute long shower—because while he was out in the field they cleaned up with wipes and bucket water baths—he stepped out of the shower feeling like a new man. He was grateful for the cleanliness and privacy of his bathroom 

He wrapped a white towel low around his hips and heard his phone ringing. He took it out of the outside compartment of his duffle bag and slid the green phone icon to the right. He heard a squeal and chuckled.

"Yes, I am home," he said, smiling.

Sudanie laughed. "My shift ends in three hours I want to come see you," she said.

"Oh, I was thinking of coming to see you," Ryan said. The knot on the towel loosened. He let the towel slip lower. He adjusted the knot where the towel fell and swiped out of the active call screen into the camera feature. 

He snapped a pic of himself standing in his bedroom: his chest and abdominal muscles proudly on display. While on duty he kept up his exercise routine as much as possible, using practical things around him such as a sawed off tree trunk to build strength and endurance.

He smiled at the risque nature of his post before sending it to her, knowing that he was showing off the shredded lines of his ab muscles which formed a distinct 'V' shape. Just below that was the evidence of his arousal. 

Within a minute, she couldn't help but send him a text message:

Sudie: What is that I'm seeing? 👀😍😍😍 🍆

Ryan: Me showing you that I'm ready for you. I've been thinking about what you said, about pushing. I want to see what you're like when you're really turned on. 

Sudie: I can't wait to see you. I want to experience myself that way too. Can I come to your place?

Ryan took an unsteady breath.

Ryan: Yes, okay. Come to me, maybe it's time.

Sudie: You hungry? I'll prepare something and bring it to you.

Ryan: Are you sure? You'll be coming from work.

Sudie: It's no problem. I have it prepped already just to cook.

Ryan: Okay, babes, can't wait to see you.

Sudie: Me too. 

Ryan: I'll text you the address and the GPS coordinates.

Sudie: Okay, baby. See you soon.

Ryan: See you, Sweet Lips. 

He sent her a link from GPS that showed where his apartment was, plus the street address and apartment number. Then he went to his closet to get dressed. Before he left for the mission, he bought four high end perfume oils. He applied one on his neck and wrists then sprayed cologne on his shirt. He was looking forward to seeing her.

***

The enthusiastic knock on the door made his heart skip a beat. He went to answer it, a wide grin beginning to form on his lips. He opened the door and she rushed towards him, kissing him passionately. Ryan groaned and opened his mouth to receive her tongue. 

In a quick leap, Sudie jumped on him. He caught her—awkwardly at first, then corrected his grip on her thighs. He carried her into his apartment and kicked the door closed. He didn't expect that greeting but was elated by it.

Sudie threw her arms on his shoulders and secured her legs around his waist. She groaned his name. Ryan vaguely registered that she had a knapsack on her back. All he could think of was that she allowed him to touch her firm, sexy thighs. He swallowed as he looked at her. She was fresh faced; no makeup on, but still very beautiful. His lips descended on hers to complete a slow, sensual kiss that had them both groaning. 

Sudie pressed her trembling frame on his hard body. She felt feverish for his touch.

"Sue," Ryan groaned softly. He wanted to cup her bottom and squeeze and caress and knead and rub and slap and ... 

He eased his head back and took a ragged breath. "Sue," he said hoarsely. "Hmm... I missed you."

"Rhy, I missed you too."

Her hips shifted, her crotch pressing into him while her upper body braced slightly back. He lost it. His fingers squeezed her thick thighs, and as desire took over his hands moved up to squeeze her buttocks. Her fleshy bottom was firm, but supple—buoyant in his hands. His body hardened and he knew he would make love to her if he didn't cool things down.

"Ohh, Ryan." Sudie moaned, a feeling of desperation growing inside her.

He hoisted her higher and brought her to his bedroom. He had made the bed with fresh sheets for his own comfort., but if Sudie laid on them he didn't mind. He placed her in a sitting position on the bed and knelt down before her to remove the silver colored sandals on her feet. He was barefoot, he never liked wearing shoes in his home. She took off her bag and he looked at it, eyebrows raised. She handed it to him.

"Dinner," she said simply.

He blew her a kiss and brought the bag to the kitchen. In less than thirty seconds, he was back kneeling before her. She reached for him and he captured her lips as if he was planning on eating her alive, then leaned back to look at her. 

She was wearing a blue jeans skirt that covered her mid-thigh and a white blouse. He caught a shapely leg and massaged it slowly, focusing on her comfort. He wanted to go higher but decided to play it safe. Sudie leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes. 

He started gently putting pressure on the calf of her left leg, then moved his hands down to her ankle then her foot. Sudie bit her lip as his strong, but gentle hands sent shock waves through her body. Ryan rose up to sit on the bed beside her and lifted her right leg while he simultaneously turned his body to hold her calf better. He squeezed the tight muscles and bit his bottom lip as he caressed her. 

"You're so sexy," he said.

He watched as she lay flat on his bed. His hands slowly drifted down to her heel as he took his time massaging it. 

Sudie sighed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome, Sweet Lips," he replied.

Her eyes darkened as she watched his head bent in concentration and his hands carefully caressing her feet. "Let me return the favor, please," she said licking her lips.

He lifted his head to look at her. "How?" There was no smile on his face, only the intensity of sensual longing.

"Let me massage you too," she said. 

He smiled at her, his eyes devouring her. 

"I won't touch anywhere that will get us in trouble. I'll massage your back if you want."

Ryan chuckled softly. His thumbs pressed into the sole of Sudie's right foot and she groaned.

"Okay, if you insist. What do you want me to do?" Ryan asked, his fingers stilled. Sudie wished he would continue but sat up. 

"Lay on your belly, Handsome. I'll work the kinks out of your back." 

Ryan chuckled softly. "Okay, baby," he said. His eyes watched her every move. "Should I keep my shirt on?" he asked.

She nodded."Yeah, that is a good idea." Laughter that sounded more like a relieved sigh escaped her lips. 

Ryan playfully tapped his index finger on her nose. "You don't have to," he said.

She shook her head. "I want to," she said lifting her chin. "Are you afraid you might lose control?" she teased.

He nodded and smiled ruefully. "Yes, I am actually, and I'm afraid you might want me to."

A look of understanding past across her face. She took a breath and released it loudly. "Alright," she said, "I'll be a good girl. But let me massage you."

"I don't know," Ryan said staring intently. He brushed his thumb on her right cheek. 

"Please," she said licking her lips. 

He saw the longing in her eyes.

"What are you up to?" he asked, heat stirring in his loins.

She reached for the hem of his shirt to lift it. "Rhy, you're so sexy. I just want to feel you, just want to touch you a little. Please."

The fire smoldering in her eyes made his heart rate spike. "We may fall," he said, even as he brushed her hands off his shirt and was about to lift it himself.

She swallowed hard. "We don't have to, but if we do, you're the only man I want to give my body to. I love you." She took his hand and placed it on her chest.

"I'm yours," she said. "All of me."

His heart fluttered. "Sweet Baby, I love you too. I long to feel you; to caress your body. I want to be inside you so bad, but we can't. We shouldn't." He took a ragged breath. "If I let you massage me it has to just be a massage, Sue. It can't be anything more."

That was the thing, she wanted more. She wanted to lose all control and feel him deep inside her. She wanted him to put her in the back shot position, grip her hips and pull her back on his hard, stiff... 

She closed her eyes and released an unsteady breath. The question was: Would she force him or back off? Lord, give me strength.

She looked into his eyes. Seeing the heat in his gaze and the accelerated rise and fall of his chest, but also his uncertainty, her confidence faltered. She noted the way his body was shaking as he tried to restrain himself and felt guilty. 

She loved him. She didn't want him to hold back from her, but they weren't free, not yet. Neither did she want him to regret anything that would happen between them. She made a decision. It wasn't about her. It was about them. It was about God. She took his left hand off her chest and clasped it in hers. She bowed her head.

"God, our Father, we come before you now knowing that you are our God and Savior. Lord you have brought us together to be husband and wife, but Lord we admit we are weak..."

Ryan looked at her: his beautiful fiance praying for both of them and felt his chest tighten with something he wasn't able to define. He bent his head and closed his eyes.

"...Lord, I love him. I have never felt this strongly for anyone, and I know he loves me too."

Ryan's hand squeezed hers. 

"God, please make our path straight. Father, guide our relationship. From now on, Lord help us. Show us how we ought to be around each other. We love each other, Lord, but we want to love you more. Help us to wait."

Sudie took a shaky breath. "We ask in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. Amen."

Ryan cleared his throat. "Amen," he said. He opened his eyes and watched her with admiration. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too." She leaned into him and he circled his arms around her. He kissed her brow and inhaled the sweet scent of coco butter.

***

"Dinner was superb. Thank you." Ryan circled his arms around his woman and pulled her closer to him on the couch. Sudie melted against him as the heat of his body soothed her. 

"Am glad you liked it," she said.

"I did," he said, "but I wish I could have you for dessert."

"Hmm... please behave," she breathed. He kissed her forehead, then her right ear. He nibbled on it gently. Sudie gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. He pulled her over into his lap, she did not resist him. He made her straddle him as he leaned back on the couch.

"Sweetness, I have never craved a woman the way I crave you." His right hand rubbed her back gently. Sudie sighed, sagging against his chest. 

"I'm really hard right now," he confessed. 

Sudie shivered at his words. Reaching down, her hand found the rigid heat of him through his jeans. Her fingers squeezed, eliciting a deep groan from him, her lips parted as she waited, breathless.

"Ohh, Rhy. Hmm... you feel so good." Her voice was soft, reduced to a husky whisper. She began rolling her hips against him. The moment his hands gripped her waist, she quickened her rhythm, her moans breaking in fractured, breathless hitches.

She buried her face in his neck, her voice a ragged whisper. “Oh god, Rhy... please."

He cupped her bottom and squeezed. She threw her head back, arching into his touch. Lifting her slightly, Ryan guided her back onto the cushions, though her hips remained anchored on his thighs. Shifting himself lower,  he slid her higher up the sofa to have better access to her. Taking a steadying breath, he bunched her skirt upward. As he leaned forward, his gaze locked onto the smooth, sensitive warmth of her thighs.

Ryan grunted, running his thumb along the soft, rounded curve of her pubic bone. Sinking lower, he pressed a kiss to her upper thigh, right where her skin folded close and warm. A low, broken whimper slipped from her lips.

"Rhy..."

"Baby, I want to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. 

"Anything you want. Please!" she gasped.

Lowering himself slowly, tentatively, he pressed his lips against the soft cotton of her panties. Sudie parted her legs wider for him, inviting him closer. He leaned into her, his mouth lingering this time as he planted a succession of soft, aching kisses right through the thin fabric. Sudie quivered, feeling thrills of pleasure run through her. He inhaled her scent and groaned deeply.

"Hmm, you smell so good," he said, his voice dipping.

Gently, he pressed his thumb into the impression of her camel toe and heard her moan. He cupped her. 

'She is so beautiful,' he thought. 

Slowly, he pressed his thumb against her sensitive folds until he could feel the distinct, swollen tip of her nub. He moved his thumb back and forth, up and down, urging the hidden heat of her to expand and bloom. He kissed the damp edge of her panties, and when her hand moved to slip them aside, he stopped her. Shifting the cotton just a fraction, he exposed only a teasing hint of her petal. He kissed and pulled on it gently. 

"Please," she cried.

He licked his lips. Sweet! 

"Just a little, Sweetness. I'm giving you just a little taste of what I have in store for you," he rasped, the low vibration of his voice heavy with promise. He moved a little faster, tracing the impression of her nub through her undies as his thumb continued to tease her. Her breathing accelerated. 

She was really wet. Her juices were soaking through her panties and he wished he could taste her. Her body pressed into his touch, her hips grinding against him in a slow, desperate rhythm. She moved, her frame trembling until the tight coil of tension inside her finally snapped, rushing through her limbs like an electric current. Her head fell back as she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Ohh... Ryan, yes." 

Air trapped in his lungs as he watched her shatter. She's perfect. Now that he had seen her at her most vulnerable, completely unraveled beneath him, he was utterly mesmerized. He cupped and squeezed when he felt the pressure of her thighs on his hand.

"Such a sexy lady," he mused, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. Sudie giggled softly, biting her bottom lip. Observing her ragged, uneven breaths, he felt a profound closeness to her—a bond deeper than anything he had known before.

He took her left hand, lifting it to brush his lips against the back of it.

"Hmm," Sudie groaned, her eyes half-closed as the tension drained from her body.

"You okay, Sweet Lips?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said airily. "I want to touch you too."

He gave a tender smile. "I know." Bending forward, he pressed a kiss to her brow, then leaned back to drag his fingers down the smooth skin of her arm.

Beneath the tenderness, a darker temptation clawed at him—a desperate urge to take her fully, to claim her body and lose himself in absolute, complete surrender. The sheer yearning was becoming unbearable, a heavy ache in his blood.

Let me be one with her, please. God, please, I need her. I love her.

This isn't the way.

The correction didn't surface as a random thought. It echoed in his mind like an audible voice, cutting through the heat of his desire and vibrating deep within his spirit.

A prickling sensation crept up the back of his neck. His chest constricted, trapping his breath as his heart dropped straight into his gut.

You went too far. The words tolled like a death knell for his conscience. He withdrew his hands as if burned, even as he warred with himself against the invitation of her parted legs and dark, seductive stare. Without a word, he stood and retreated to the hallway bathroom. Behind him, Sudie lifted her head, her brow creasing and lips pursed with sudden confusion.

The bathroom door clicked shut, cutting off the intoxicating scent of her perfume. Ryan gripped the edges of the sink, the tendons in his hands straining as his breath rattled in his chest. Two months of agonizing distance, and within minutes, he had nearly ruined everything.

Giving her pleasure wasn't enough; his body demanded the final, total surrender. Gripping his head in his hands, he was terrified at how easily his desire could override his judgment. He stared blindly at his reflection in the dim light, then twisted the tap and splashed cool water over his face to drown out the memory of her stare.

Five minutes later, he opened the door and stepped back into the room, his shoulders slumped and his face a carefully blank mask. Closing the door quietly behind him, he shoved his hands deep into his jeans' pockets. He leaned back against the wall, his Adam's apple bobbing jerkily as his gaze locked onto her. She was still lying on the couch, arranged in a way that felt entirely too beautiful to resist.

Sudie studied him. His brows were drawn tight and low, bringing a suffocating heaviness into the room. She observed the hard set of his jaw and the tension in his frame as he braced himself against the wall.

"Rhy?" Her voice trembled.

"I'm sorry," he said. In his pocket, his right hand curled into a fist.

"No, please, no." Her heart rate spiked, and she let out a rushed breath to ease the sudden tightness in her chest. "Rhy, don't tell me you regret this. Please," she whispered, her voice breaking.

His face was wet. She assumed he had washed it. 

"Sudie, we went too far," he said through clenched teeth. Rough and defensive, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt to dry the water.

Her mouth clamped shut. She turned on her side, presenting her back to him, and closed her eyes. After a strained beat of silence between them, she added, "I think I'll go home now."

"Let me drive you," he said, still standing by the bathroom doorway.

"What would be the point of that? I have my car and—"

"I was offering to drive your car for you," he said coming closer.

"That doesn't make sense. How will you get back?"

She sat up and tried to stand, but her legs betrayed her. Sudie sat back down and closed her eyes. What is this? She burrowed her toes into the carpet to ground herself. "I-I just need to take a few minutes to reorient myself then go."

"Your legs are weak. I can—"

"I don't need your help," she said, the pitch of her voice rising to an edgy, brittle pitch. 

He took a steadying breath. "No, you're not going by yourself. I'm taking you home."

She was about to shout at him, but when her gaze landed on his eyes, she saw the hurt in their depths and the words she was about to say died in her throat. She shook her head with a heavy sigh, the rigidity in her body giving way like a twig snapping. A feeling of exhaustion settled over her. 

"Rhy, you don't have to," she said, her tone subdued. "I'll go. Maybe right now you don't even want to see me." She bowed her head and stared at her lap where she was twisting her fingers together.

'You broke her again,' an accusatory whisper hissed, twisting the heavy weight of his conviction into pure condemnation.

'No, I did not!' Ryan’s hands curled into fierce, desperate fists inside his pockets, his mind fracturing as he fought back. 'I’ll make it right.'

Sudie felt the air around her twist with urgency, she looked up. In one quick stride, Ryan was standing in front of her. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that!" he said, his voice ragged. He dropped to his knees before her.

Gently, his trembling hands came up to cup her face. "I love you," he rasped, his gaze wild and desperate. "Baby, you don't know how much I love you. I want you so badly it's tearing me apart—it's taking everything I have to hold myself back right now. But I am trying. I am trying so hard."

"I love you so much I want to pull you against me and take you right here—lose myself completely inside you..." He paused abruptly, clenching his jaw as if speaking another word would destroy his sanity. He took a shaky breath, exhaling it slowly.

"But I want to wait," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to wait until you truly belong to me. I love you, Sue. I love you."

She shivered, his words resonating deep inside her core. Ryan swallowed hard, his gaze searching hers, reading the raw hunger and frustration written across her face.

I won't let it get this far again.

He sighed. "Baby, I love you so much that I want to honor God in this relationship. I want His blessings on us, Sue. I love you to the point where I went into the bathroom to release this ache, to force this tension down—but all I could think about was you praying for us earlier. I couldn't do it." 

Her body convulsed as a sob escaped her lips. "I love you!" she cried, a single tear sliding down her face.

"And I love you," he whispered tenderly, wiping the tear away with his fingers. He rose onto the couch beside her, pulling her trembling body into his embrace.

"From now on we do it His way, just like you prayed. Okay, baby?"

"Okay," she said, exhaling.

He held her tighter and closed his eyes.

Afterglow

(Friday)

Sunlight spilled through the bare, uncurtained windows of the master bedroom, casting long blocks of gold light across the mattress on the floor. Waking up wrapped in his arms, Dana stretched languidly and threw one leg over Shane's hip, the phantom heat of last night still thrumming beneath her skin.

They had pushed right to the edge—tangling their bodies until the ache was a sweet, unbearable torture—but as always, they held that line together: no penetration until they were husband and wife. Instead, he loved on her, his fingers and mouth cresting her to heights of pleasure she had not experienced from any other man, while she touched him, giving him exactly what he needed to satisfy the insatiable need inside him. It was a heavy compromise for both of them, especially for her, considering the vow she had made to her grandmother, but it felt necessary, almost appropriate for their relationship.

Nestling deeper into the hollow of his chest, she knew their type of 'waiting' was worth it. Shane's hand came up to rest on her back. The warmth of his touch radiating through the large T-shirt she was wearing was a reminder of the intimacy that had grown between them over the past few months. She bent her head and kissed his chest. She nuzzled the skin and felt his body stir—his chest rising. His hold on her tightened as he pulled her closer.

"Good morning, baby," he said, his deep voice husky with sleep.

Dana buried her face in his chest and smiled. She lifted her head and caught him watching her. His eyes smoldered with passion while his hand moved down to caress her bottom.

"You were wonderful last night, baby," he said, his voice deepening as he remembered the way her mouth had traveled seductively down his chest, past his abdominal muscles, down to his... He blinked and refocused his eyes on her, absentmindedly rubbing her buttocks.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She nodded, a cheeky smile curving her lips. "Are you having flashbacks from last night?" she asked.

His mouth twitched into a teasing smile. "How do you know?" he asked, amused.

"Your face shows it, plus I've been thinking about last night too. You were amazing."

 Shane chuckled softly and pulled her down into the covers with him. "Would you like a repeat, madam?" he asked in a mock British accent.

"Why yes, kind sir, I would love that very much!" she replied, trying to copy his tone, and both ended up laughing at their silliness.

His arms circled her waist as he kissed her with fervent desire. Dana wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. He glanced at the simple gold cross pendant resting on her collarbone and smiled. They would keep the promise to her grandmother: no penetration, not yet.

***

Wedding Plans

The living room was quiet, still empty save for the lone couch sitting in the middle of the space. Dana sat curled up on one side, her thumb scrolling through her phone. She paused on a picture, her eyes widening slightly, and reached out to tap Shane’s hand. Turning her screen toward him, she showed him an image of a breathtaking, three-tiered cake crafted by a boutique artisanal pastry shop.

Shane, however, was in a different world. His eyes were glued to his own screen, scanning a series of encrypted files sent over by an informant—someone with deep, dangerous ties to Mr. Z and his associate-turned-bitter-enemy, Midnight. The data was heavy, filled with moving parts that required his full attention. But the moment Dana touched his hand, his focus shifted. He pulled his eyes away from the informant's files and looked at the beautiful cake on her screen.

A soft smile broke through his serious expression. Leaning in, he pressed a warm kiss against her forehead.

"It's beautiful, baby," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, comforting register. "If that's the one you want, it's yours. Save the listing, and we'll call them tomorrow to set up a tasting."

Dana shifted closer, her fatigue completely forgotten as a fresh wave of excitement overtook her. "Oh, and the invitations are officially locked in! The stationery is beautiful—this incredibly rich magenta and sky blue paper, and the lettering is going to be embossed in gold. It looks so elegant."

She was gesturing with her hands now, completely animated. "I actually asked the same printers if they could source the mementos for the guests, too. We’re doing these beautiful pens, embossed with purple and blue cursive that says, Thank you, from Mr. and Mrs. Crosby." She beamed at the sound of the name.

"We officially settled on fifty people, which is perfect. And your dad was amazing—Elder David already secured the pastor and the DJ for us, so that’s two massive things crossed off the list."

Shane smiled, his heart swelling at her joy, though his mind briefly flashed to the grim informant files still open on his lap. He closed his laptop, giving her his undivided attention.

"My dad loves being helpful. And fifty is a perfect number, baby. What about the seating chart?"

"Done," Dana said proudly. "Your twin brother’s wife, Kerry—thank God for her—helped me arrange the whole reception layout yesterday. She’s a lifesaver." Her smile faltered just a fraction, her gaze dropping to her lap.

"Honestly... the dress is the only thing I'm completely stuck on."

Shane noticed the sudden dip in her energy. "The dress? I thought you were looking into that this week?"

"I was supposed to," Dana murmured, her voice losing its animated edge, replaced by a sudden, heavy quiet. "Sudie and I were supposed to go look at them. The wedding gown, the reception dress, the bridesmaids' dresses... Kerry and Chelsea are the only two bridesmaids, so it should have been easy. But Sudie was supposed to be the maid of honor. She was supposed to be there for all of it."

The air in the room shifted, growing thick with unspoken grief. Dana shrugged, trying to look indifferent as she stared at her phone. "It’s fine. I can just go with Chelsea and Kerry. It’s not a big deal."

But Shane knew her too well. He saw right through the casual shrug to the deep ache beneath it. Sudie was her best friend, her sister in every way that mattered. And the reason they weren't speaking hung between them like a ghost.

"Dana," Shane said softly, reaching out to cup her cheek, gently forcing her to look at him. "It is a big deal. You miss her."

Dana’s eyes grew glassy, though she stubbornly refused to let a tear fall. She swallowed hard, looking away. "She made her choice, Shane. She chose a side."

"Because of me," Shane said, the guilt heavy in his chest. "Sudie stopped talking to you because of how I treated Lissa. Lissa is her best friend, and Sudie felt like she had to protect her—which meant drawing a line between her and anyone associated with me. Even you. I caused this rift, Dana. I’m the reason your maid of honor isn't here helping you pick out your wedding dress."

Dana didn't contradict him, which told him everything he needed to know. The silence in the room was deafening. Shane took both of her hands in his, his expression fierce with resolve. "Let me fix this. I'll go speak to Sudie. I'll swallow my pride, I'll apologize to her for how things went down with Lissa, and I'll take the heat for it. Lissa has already accepted my apology. I'll just smooth things over with Sudie also."

He took a quick breath and exhaled slowly. "I'll also call Ryan and clear the air between us, man-to-man, so there’s no awkwardness lingering on that side either. You shouldn't have to lose your best friend on the happiest day of your life because of my past mistakes."

Dana looked at him, her lips trembling slightly. The mask of indifference completely slipped away, leaving only the raw, painful longing for the friend she missed. "Do you really think she'll listen to you?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he said with a sigh." He kissed her brow and smiled tenderly at her. "But for you, I have to try." Dana leaned into him, he kissed her head and rubbed her back.

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