“Did your dad notice?”
A tiny sigh escaped her. “No. But I don’t blame him. I know he loves me. I know he’s proud of me and what I’ve accomplished with Chic Publishing. He framed the cover of Fortune magazine and hung it in the living room. But Rick and Mom left a hole that couldn’t be filled, no matter how good I was. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s the way it should be.”
He stopped. Tipped her chin up. Tenderness coursed through his body, his heart, his soul. She blinked furiously, her face a picture of confusion and sadness and longing. “I bet your mom and brother look over you every day, so damn proud of who you’ve become. Others would have sunk and given up. Whined and bitched and given excuses. You’re a hell of a woman, Riley Fox. A hell of a daughter. And a hell of a sister.”
She nodded. Accepting his comfort. Listening to the words and taking them deep to find a place where they could fit. He broke then, needing to touch her, protect her, make her happy.
The kiss was pure giving and comfort, but she turned it fast, grabbing on to him as if needing more. Dylan groaned and held her tight, his tongue plunging into her mouth and savoring her taste. The spark caught and exploded. He pushed her against the railing, ripping at the bulky clothes loaded with zippers and buttons, desperate to hit skin and give her the connection they both needed. She whimpered, and he swallowed it whole, managing to get the jacket open, sweater hiked up, and his fingers down her pants.
Holy crap, she was dripping wet and hot as his fingers hooked under the panties and sunk deep into her *. She bit down hard on his lower lip, but he didn’t break contact, moving his fingers and dragging them across her clit, pushing her higher even as she bucked and bit and moaned underneath him.
“Give it to me, Riley. Now. Give it all to me,” he demanded, twisting his fingers and slamming deep against her G-spot. And then she was coming, flooding his hand, while his mouth crushed her screams, never releasing the pressure they both craved. He kept his fingers inside her for a while, kissing away the one tear skidding down her cheek, murmuring inane nonsense in her ear while she settled. He kissed her, held her, and she relaxed completely in his arms.
“I need you,” he said. “In my bed. Naked. Open.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I need that, too.”
Dylan tried not to shake as he fixed her clothes, took her hand, and led her out of the rink.
He moved over her, surged inside, and began the rhythm to break her apart so he could put her back together. Riley lived her life on her terms, but tonight there was nothing she couldn’t give him. A distant fantasy and memory of a man whose image never left her now claimed her completely. She knew it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. But for these last few hours, Riley didn’t care.
She opened herself wide and met each thrust. Her lips opened to his tongue, her nails scraped down the muscled ridge of his back, drawing blood, making her own mark so tonight could be remembered. When her climax came, he commanded her to open her eyes. He was witness to it all—both brutal pleasure and the completion of the fall she’d started ten years ago at the first touch of his lips on hers.
She fell in love with Dylan McCray. Owned it. Relished it. Reveled in it.
She called his name over and over while her heart screamed out the words she refused to utter.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The mingling scent of sex and musk and sweat rose to his nostrils in the sweetest perfume in the world. Dylan stroked her shoulder as she rested, staring at the woman naked in his arms, in his bed. How many times had he wondered what it would be like if they met again, yet recognizing they may never be able to transition the connection between them into the real world.
When he joined Kinnections, he’d been so hopeful. He was ready to settle down and find his forever. The team was incredible, noting every one of his points, and even digging under the surface until they found needs he didn’t realize he had. Most of his dates impressed him. Made him laugh. Engaged him in stimulating conversation. Many even caused a physical reaction that would’ve led directly to sex, or at least a lot of foreplay.
Usually after the first date, he realized the truth.
None of the women were meant for him.