Riding the Storm

The air seared my lungs as I gasped for breath running to reach her before the armed men did. I urged my legs to move faster praying I would be in time.
  Jumping from one rooftop to another, I was certain I was breaking speed records and my lungs would burst any second. I landed on the flat surface where she was standing facing the door that would open any minute and spill onto the roof the death squad commissioned to kill her.
  Without breaking stride, I continued charging toward her and prayed the chopper pilot’s computer watch was perfectly synced with mine. I started counting down. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, I was almost to her, three, she turned to face me, two I hit her hard wrapping my arms around her, and I plunged both of us off the roof.
  “One,” I screamed into her ear as she clutched me wrapping her arms and legs around my body freeing my hands to catch the rope dangling from the passing helicopter.
  “Who the hell are you?” She growled.
  “Kensley Storm,” I gasped as I clipped the rope to my harness. “What’s your name?
“Regina, Regina Ryder. What took you so
long?”    
  “Saving beautiful women is not my top priority.” I said into her ear. “I had to save a puppy along the way.”
  She threw her head back and laughed. One of those sultry throaty laughs that made you know she would be dynamite in bed.