I wiped my nose with the back of my hand as uneven sobs fled the safety of my mouth. “Can I? Because I’m not sure I should trust anyone.”
His eyes locked on mine, brown colliding with gray, and all the emotions I’d been sidestepping for the past twenty minutes sizzled shamelessly. Invisible silken webs coiled around us, shackling us together in a cloud of lust. My nipples hardened. Sweltering desire pumped through my blood, thawing my frozen limbs. No amount of mental imagery could walk me back from the abyss.
Cold hands framed my face. “You can, but I realize I have to earn your trust. Just give me enough time to do it.” He ghosted a soft kiss across my lips, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you. I know I should do the right thing and walk away and let you live your life far away from me, but when it comes to you, I never do the right thing. I need every part of you, and someday you’ll give it to me. Freely and without reservations. Until then, I’ll take what you’re willing to give.”
“Okay,” I whispered, leaning into him, capitalizing on the safety of his embrace.
His familiar scent of spice and sea-salt bewitched me. I wanted to be closer to him. Feel him. Touch him. Taste him. I wanted to have a reason to live and love instead of feeling numb, betrayed, and bitter. I yanked his shirt from his waistband and slipped my fingers beneath his shirt. The pads of my icy fingers traced the rope-like muscles lining his spine. Up and down. Down and up.
Ryker sucked in a breath, and his fingers trailed from my neck to my shoulders, and then down my arms. My heart tattooed the inside of my chest. His eyes held me hostage. I couldn’t look away. Out of everything that had happened over the past three months, Ryker was the one reason I’d do it all again without a second thought.
The pain.
The confusion.
The betrayals.
The anger.
Finding him, loving him was worth it. In that instant, I discarded my thoughts of leaving him. I abandoned every notion of turning my back on us. Of all the twisted emotions I felt for Ryker, my love for him screamed the loudest. Fought the hardest.
Without saying a word, he scooped me up in one smooth motion and half ran, half walked, stopping only to grab his bag and blanket from the park bench.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I dotted his neck with open-mouthed kisses.
“To my car.”
I laughed. “Thank God. I’m freezing my ass off.”
“You’re the one who refused my blanket,” he said as he wrenched his car door open and laid me down in the backseat.
“I was upset,” I said with a smirk.
He shook his head as he climbed into the backseat with me.
He started unbuttoning my shirt.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes locked on his skillful fingers as he opened my shirt button by button and peeled it off my body. He traced the scalloped edge of my bra, painting invisible lines all over my skin. My muscles jumped under his fingertips. He was the pied piper, and I couldn’t stop my body from marching to his tune.
“Getting you out of these clothes,” he answered. His lips curled into a lopsided grin, and my heart screeched to a halt. His hands moved to my jeans, and in less than thirty seconds, I was stretched out on the smooth leather in nothing but my panties and bra.
“You know what?” I asked with my eyebrows raised.
“What?” he said absently as his eyes roamed over my body, drinking me in like a man who had finished a trek through the Sahara.
My hands moved to the collar of his shirt. I flicked one button open, then two and three. My hands kept moving until I parted his shirt, exposing his golden skin and his beautifully defined chest and stomach. “I think your clothes are a little wet too.”
He bent forward as I pushed his shirt from his shoulder. “You’re right. I think we both would benefit from sharing body heat,” he murmured right before his warm lips crushed against mine.
Our tongues tangled. Our mouths fused together. Our hands clawed at anything in our way.
Tasting.
Savoring.
Devouring.
Exploring.
Each additional piece of clothing we removed was like tinder feeding the bonfire of lust raging between us. Moans and whimpers harmonized with the pinging sound of the rain as it splattered against the car. Our skin stuck together from a combination of water and sweat as our bodies slid against each other.
I didn’t care that we were cramped together in the backseat of his car in a parking lot of a public park. I didn’t care that my life was spinning out of control at an alarming velocity. My need for control vanished whenever he was near me. Good or bad—I didn’t know, but it was the unvarnished truth, and I loved and hated it.
With fumbling hands, I shoved his pants down his legs, exposing the sharp angle of muscles adjacent to his hipbone. I traced the sculpted line to his erection.
“You make me crazy,” he whispered as his lips nipped, sucked, and kissed their way to my breasts. He sucked a hardened nipple into his mouth, and a burst of pleasure shot through my body.
I moaned, arching into him as I slid my hand along his length. Up and down, I caressed him as I alternated between watching his face and the glide of my hand. “I do?” My voiced sounded throaty and totally unlike me, which was fitting because I didn’t feel like myself around him. Instead of a controlled, principled person, I morphed into an adrenaline junkie ruled by impulses, emotions, and lust.
He rested his forehead against mine, his chest heaving. He stared at me as if he had summoned me by wishing on a shooting star. “You know you do. From the minute I saw you in that bar, I knew I had a problem. Maybe before then.”
I chuckled. “Good, because I suspected you were trouble.”
I pushed his chest. “Sit up,” I demanded.
“Not yet.” He smirked as his fingers traced the opening of my sex.
“Oh God,” I murmured. Each teasing motion of his finger intensified the needy ache in my core. Lifting my hips, I rocked against his hand wanting more, each languid circle of his finger more intense than the previous one.
Flushed and shaking, I mumbled hundreds of incoherent thoughts about needing him, wanting him, craving him, and not being able to live without him. Just as flames started rolling through me, he jerked his hand away from where I needed him. My eyes popped open.
“What the—”
His damp fingers rested against my lips, slowly moving back and forth. “Shh, I’ll take care of you.” He lifted me up, so I straddled his waist. “Do you want to do this here?”
At a loss for words, I nodded urgently, up and down like a bobble head doll. I would’ve laughed at myself if I wasn’t so focused on feeling him inside of me. In seconds, he grabbed my hips, rotating them back and forth over the tip of his erection.
“Please,” I whimpered.
“Guide me inside of you,” he responded, his voice gruff and uncontrolled. I liked him that way.