Running Wilde Ch. 47 | I've Been Waiting (Full Version)
What can be scraped together
From our long-worn emotions
Handfuls of hate
And a bittersweet devotion
-Mean Sleep
Van Hunt
Thick grey smoke billowed towards the night sky as Ava-Marie Lockewood and Aiden Michaels stood side by side and watched the raging flames devour the old barn along with the finally silent remains of Junie.
Aiden looked at her and noticed the glow of fire reflected in her eyes. The barn wasn’t the only thing being swallowed by the flames, after all, you couldn’t’ burn a man alive and not set fire to a piece of yourself too. She looked like hell had made a home within her…and it was his fault. Ava was meant to be the good one, yet the more time she spent with him it chipped away at her goodness and the person before him grew more and more unrecognisable every day. He felt a twinge of guilt and bumped his arm against hers. “You okay?”
She blinked, pulling herself out of the fire, lubricating her dry, staring eyes and cleared her throat, “I’m remembering my why,” she said stiffly.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well then no, I’m not okay, Aiden,” she looked at him, “But I will be.”
He brushed his fingertips carefully against hers.
She let them linger in an almost touch.
“I’m tired. I’m going back to the car.”
“Okay,” he called after her, “I’ll be there in a minute. Just gonna do one last sweep of the area to make sure there’s no trace of us.”
She said nothing.
He wandered closer to the barn, pretending to look around as he disappeared around the side of it. Once he was out of earshot, he took out his burner phone.
“Yo?” Dougie answered.
“She’s ready.”
“You’re sure?”
He looked at the burning barn, “Trust me. We’re good to go.”
“Cool. 5am next Friday?”
“Perfect.”
*
It was a week full of processed foods filled with more preservatives than nutrients, truck stop bathrooms, night long drives fuelled by cans of sugary room temperature energy drinks, and back and neck aches from taking turns sleeping in awkward positions in the back seat.
Though they were back on somewhat stable ground, on top of the constant discomfort, summer heat, crappy food and growing body odour, the atmosphere between them was just as tense and quiet as it was before. Murder does that to some people.
Ava was just grateful that her period was over, at least that was one less irritant to deal with.
“There hasn’t been any mention of us for a few days,” she said as she did their routine radio sweep for that hour.
“Good, that means the Mafia are doing their job.”
“And what job is that?” She asked as she skipped past the static of empty stations. Aiden had taken them further and further away from civilisation, meaning that they only picked up five stations at most, all of which Ava couldn’t stand because they bored her to death, but the sound of some stuffy, monotonous discussion about politics or the same top 40 songs played on a loop all day long, day after day, was better than listening to Aiden’s breathing, which she had decided was enough to make her want to set him on fire too.
“The one I gave them.”
So did his attitude.
She furrowed her brow, “Is it a secret?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“You said you’d teach me.”
“I’m teaching you to mind your business.”
She scowled at him, “Well whatever it is, you should have had them do it from the start, so we wouldn’t have had to go through all this extra shit.”
The ascending volume of her voice made him grip the wheel tighter. “Doesn’t work that way. Here’s another lesson; timing is everything. If I had calmed things down too soon it would look suspicious. We blew up a historic landmark and murdered a lot of people. There has to be a little noise to satisfy the public so they feel like something is being done. I also had to make sure everything was in place for us to leave. Now it is.”
She sat straighter, “It is?”
“Yes.” Her volume returned to what he deemed an acceptable level and his grip loosened.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“I just told you.”
She slumped down and rolled her eyes, “More secrets.”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Whatever. Can I at least know when?”
“Few hours.”
“We’re leaving today?” She clutched the dashboard, “What about Chris?”
“Chris isn’t getting away with anything.” His grip on the steering wheel re-tightened enough to turn his knuckles pale.
“So we’re getting him before we go?”
“You’ve forgotten your lesson already? Timing, Ava-Marie. We need to rebuild. Come back bigger and badder than before if we want him gone for good. That shit takes time.”
“How much time are we talking?”
“I’m sorry, do you have something better to do?”
“Stop being a dick, I’m just asking.”
Aiden rolled his head across his shoulder blades and breathed, “The right amount of time.”
She rolled her eyes harder and kissed her teeth, a new delightful habit that she’d picked up from him, “Just say you don’t know.”
His hand shot out and grabbed her thigh, “You really need to watch your mouth,” he drummed his twitchy fingers against the inside of her thigh, “I haven’t forgotten anything, Ava-Marie.”
“I don’t care.”
He took his hand back. “You will.”
*
A few hours later Aiden pulled into a large domed building where two immaculately kept women with identical ponytails, dressed in all black, with shades to further erase their uniqueness, slid open the 300ft high double doors.
A shiver ran down Ava’s spine as bleak memories of high ceilings, no windows, and constant supervision by women who looked just like them sprung to mind. “Are those The Maids?”
“Relax. They don’t bite.”
“Unless you tell them to,” she muttered.
“Should I tell them to?”
“Seems like the kind of thing you’re into.”
“It’s one of them.” He flashed her a lazy lopsided smirk that flaunted his canines; the kind of smirk that made him look like a sexy bad boy from one of those teen movies where you wished they would throw in a sex scene or two because he was that hot. The kind of bad boy that you knew was way more trouble than he was worth…and it only made you like him more.
She thought about how sharply his teeth would pinch her skin.
And where on her skin they would pinch.
And how hard he would bite down.
And how many times he would do it.
And what he would do next…
She shrugged the thought away. “What are they doing here?”
“Working.” He nodded at them as he passed, and she swore she saw one of them almost smile. She wondered how many of his Maids had crushes on him.
“There he is!” Mighty came into view with both hands in the air and a smile stretched so big and wide that it looked like his fine, pointy features would collapse under the pressure. “Boss, I’ve missed you, man!”
“Here we go,” Aiden grumbled as he fought back a less enthusiastic smile and pulled into the dome.
“You have a private jet?” Ava gasped -a mixture of blissful familiarity, but mostly shock on Aiden’s part.
He cocked his brow, unappreciative of the emphasis she put on the ‘you’. “How else did you think we were going to leave the country? British Airways?”
“Honestly, I had no idea. I just didn’t expect...” she gestured at the glossy black exterior of the plane shining under the bright halogen lights, “…This.”
“I’m good at what I do,” he said stiffly.
She pulled her eyes away from the shiny luxuriousness, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just…you don’t look like a guy who owns a private jet.”
Aiden scoffed and shook his head, “Where I’m from, people who look like us,” he made a point of pointing at her as well as himself, “That walk around looking like they own private jets are targets. A man can’t move ‘round ends with their chain out. Next man would be onto them. Shit like that can get you rushed or worse. You wanna keep your shit, live humble and don’t brag about your pockets or people will force their way into them. That’s another lesson for you to remember.”
“Okay. I’ll remember that when we’re flying away to our surprise destination in your private jet.”
“Remember that it’s a necessity. We’d have no way to leave otherwise.”
They exited the car and Aiden handed the keys to one of the Maids. “Make this disappear.”
She gave a brisk nod then climbed in and drove away. The other Maid followed behind.
“What about my stuff?”
“We have provided a change of clothes for you onboard, Mrs Michaels.” The remaining Maid said.
Ava jumped at the sound of her voice. It occurred to her that she’d never heard any of them speak. That didn’t have her as thrown as being referred to as Mrs Michaels did. She frowned at Aiden, “I forget that we’re supposed to be married.”
“I don’t_” the word ‘don’t’ came out crunched and winded as Mighty’s arms clamped around Aiden’s middle. “Bruv, relax!”
“Sorry,” Mighty stepped back, still beaming at him, “It’s just good to see you, man.”
“It’s good to see you too, Mighty.” They bumped fists.
Mighty looked at Ava. His smile shrunk noticeably and tightened. He nodded at her like a child forced by their parents to greet an overfamiliar family friend that they had no recollection of. She shifted closer to Aiden, tucking herself slightly behind him then nodded back. Mighty’s greeting was a reminder that as much as Aiden wanted her around, his team didn’t.
At least it wasn’t Dougie, she thought. Mighty seemed almost sweet in comparison.
The plane released a soft whoosh of pressure and a rectangular curve came away from the vessel and lowered itself to the ground. “You remember Captain Loren?” Mighty gestured at the pilot who came into view at the top of the stairs.
“Of course,” Aiden smiled with the charm of a beloved politician, “Great to see you again, Loren. How are the girls?”
“Very good sir,” Loren beamed, “Thank you again for helping win Jana’s tuition. It was so generous. My family and I don’t know how to repay you.”
Aiden slipped his arm casually around Ava’s shoulders, “Just get my wife and I to Jamaica in one piece.”
Loren’s smile wavered when he got a good look at Ava, recognition masking his pleasantries. He’d seen her face and blaze of pink hair all over the news. The kidnapped heiress of the Lockewood empire, stood before him as the wife of his employer. She looked like a shadow of the girl he’d seen in the photos and CCTV footage. “Mrs Michaels.”
“Captain Loren,” she nodded absentmindedly as she twisted in Aiden’s arms. “We’re going to Jamaica?”
“Surprise!” Aiden said with faux cheer that didn’t suit him.
“We’re ready to go when you are, Sir.”
“No time like the present.”
They climbed the plane steps, Loren in front, followed by the talking/almost smiling Maid, Ava, Aiden and Mighty.
“I’ll be in the cockpit with Loren,” Mighty said to Aiden in hushed tones. Ava strained her ears to listen. “I’ve hooked a few devices up to help us get through the channels undetected.”
“Good. How long till we get there?”
“Roughly 10 hours. The Maids have made sure you have everything you requested on board...which reminds me, what’s with the bar with the cuffs? I thought wifey was on board now?”
Ava stumbled up the stairs. The bar with the cuffs? Her insides fluttered and clenched. Aiden asked them to pack a spreader bar on 10 hour flight. Maybe she would be sorry after all.
“She’s been…difficult lately.” He caught her by her waist, “Careful, Heaven.”
She resisted the urge to look back at him. It was better to pretend that she hadn’t heard Mighty mention the spreader bar or Aiden’s cryptic way of letting her know that he intended to use it.
When they got to the top of the stairs Loren gestured to the cabin with a smile, “I hope you enjoy your flight Mr and Mrs Michaels.”
Thoughts of a spreader bar were temporarily pushed aside as Ava took in the black leather gold plated luxury of Aiden’s plane. He slid up behind her, his hand settling on the spread of her hips as he ushered her forward. “You’d think you’re new to this the way you’re staring.”
“It’s not that,” she dragged her fingertips along the constellation of scattered starlight lights on the ceiling, “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to settle anywhere that doesn’t require looking over my shoulder or using so much hand sanitiser that it makes my skin crack.”
“Hmm,” he handed her one of the champagne flutes set out on the small table between two arm chairs then invited her to sit. She sunk down into the buttery leather and sighed as if she’d just come home from a long journey.
They locked eyes.
He raised his glass, “To no longer looking over our shoulders.”
“To taking down Uncle Chris.”
There was that bad boy smirk again. “Someone’s feisty.”
“I have a lot of pent up frustration,” they clinked glasses, “And I heard you have a spreader bar on board.”
“Oh, you heard that, did you?” He raised his brow and took a slow sip. “The champagne is good,” his eyes darkened, “Drink.”
It was a simple demand but the way his tone clipped the word, making it sharper, as sharp as his teeth that she found herself thinking about sinking into her skin again, made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. “Yes Sir.”
He watched her open her mouth and press the tip of the flute against her rose-coloured lips. It was an inspiring sight, especially when her eyes took on a doe like expression. God, she was meant to be his sub. She took to it so naturally. Calm and innocence feigned washed over her as her nature became softer, more malleable. Aiden’s hardened.
“Finish it.”
She tipped the glass back and emptied it into her mouth.
He handed her his glass, “And this.”
Ava drank steadily till he tipped the base of the flute up and the pale gold liquid spilled out of the sides of her mouth, down her neck and trickled into the valley between her breasts, soaking the thin fabric of her top and making it cling to her pert nipples. He swooped down on her, mouth first. She gasped. His warm tongue dipped between her cleavage and licked her chilled flesh with indulgence, her goosebumps like braille -her body calling for sweet sin as champagne melted with the salt of her skin in his mouth. He moved higher, his open mouth skimmed the swell of her breasts and closed around his fluent tongue as he kissed her sticky flesh, and gently sucked the hollows of her collarbones, then teeth -sharp teeth -nipped deliciously at her throat.
“Yesssss,” she hissed.
He kissed along her cheeks until he reached the corner of her slack mouth, then slowed and edged closer, never breaking contact but never giving enough of it to satisfy her growing desire. He closed his eyes and allowed his cupids bow to touch her face with a little more pressure. She shifted her head towards him and he pulled away, making their only contact the gentle teasing bumping of their noses.
“Do you want to be kissed, Ava-Marie?”
“Yes Sir,” she breathed leaning closer.
He drew back, “Do you think deserve to be kissed?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” They bumped cupid’s bows, both eyes closed, their breaths heavy. He licked his lips and tasted champagne and desire. “Because I don’t think you do.”
He removed himself completely.
“What?” She blinked up at him irritably like she’d been woken from a good dream just before the best part.
“You think I should let you get away with your insolence?”
She frowned, “I was upset.”
“You were disobedient,” he snapped. He placed his hand on the upper part of her thigh, “You took advantage of our situation, of my sympathies, to push every single one of my buttons.” His other hand slid up her clavicle to her throat, “You took my kindness for weakness.” His grip tightened, “I’ve hand enough of being kind.”
She squirmed against him. His fingers brushed and tugged the skin around her neck as he tightened a little more. She grunted softly once the tightness moved beyond comfort and the safety of easy breathing became a challenge. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her face to rest against the cusp of his fingers like a pussycat sidling up to its owner. “What are you going do to me, Sir?”
His other hand moved up her thigh and he leant back in. Lips touched, eyes closed, mouths opened. “I’m not going to kiss you.” He bit down on her bottom lip at the same time as his fingers pushed against the soft, wet mound between her legs. The sting of his teeth and the mercy of release from the ache that made her sex throb, evoked a torn sound from her throat as pleasure and pain collided.
Aiden wanted to kiss her then. Every atom in his body craved to move closer to her, to feel her, to taste her, to make her make that guttural sound again. The undecidedness of it made his dick swell, embossing his unforgiving size unapologetically against his jeans. He squeezed tighter and she whimpered for him. “Fuck.” He bit down on his lip, reminding himself that he couldn’t give in too quickly or else she would never learn.
He stood up to distance himself from temptation and Ava’s eyes landed on his bulging crotch. She squirmed and pressed her thighs together, staring at it as if she could remove his clothes by sight alone if she tried hard enough. She remembered what was under them; the dark expanse of skin -hot, illustrated, battle scarred skin -stretched taut over muscle and bones.
How he could stretch her muscles taut.
How far he could reach inside of her.
How each thrust was as deliciously unbearable as the last.
How glorious and terrible and exciting he was all at once.
“You’re staring,” he smirked.
She looked up, “What will you do?”
The fasten seatbelt sign came on. Aiden buckled her in and pulled on the straps until she winced, then sat opposite her, with his legs spread wider than necessary and his hips tilted at an angle that made his pants tighten and his erection threaten to tear free.
Ava stared and bit her lips.
He poured himself a glass of champagne and took a sip. He stopped smirking, “We have a long flight ahead of us, Ava-Marie.”
Yes yes, Fancy Faces! Aiden and Ava sexy time is coming back with a vengeance! Who has their wine on standby?
Lemme know how many of you are ready for the pending kinky fuckery by clicking the heart at the bottom of the post ;)
Love Scotty x