Know Thine Enemy

CHAPTER Seventeen



It was still dark when Izzie awoke to Ryker's lips on her brow. Her body felt well loved and tender. Muscles she didn't even know she had were sore from exertion. Strangely, though she had never once shared a bed with a man—she and Wright had retreated to their separate corners after their night together—nothing seemed forced or unnatural about blinking into Ryker's adoring eyes first thing after waking.

Izzie mumbled something even her ears couldn't decipher, then cleared her throat. "How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour."

"Did you sleep?"

Ryker shook his head. "Couldn't. Just kept looking at you."

"That's kinda creepy."

"If that's the creepiest thing I do, I'm a disgrace to my kind."

"Yeah, yeah." Izzie made a face and stretched, every corner of her body whining. "What time is it?"

"Almost sunrise." Ryker kissed her gently. God, she loved his kisses. "I'm gonna pop in the shower. Figure we might wanna head out after we rest."

"Head out?"

"We can't stay here forever."

Izzie frowned. Obviously, they couldn't stay here forever. That was a given. Just yesterday, she'd felt restless and eager for the road. Yet now, the prospect of returning to the world outside these walls frightened her. At least in here she had some measure of control. No one could predict or control what happened out there.

This reality—the one where she and Ryker remained together at the cabin—was fleeting. It had been a nice break. A nice detour from her life.

"Go back to sleep," Ryker said as he edged out of bed. "We won't leave till sun sets. Might as well rest up."

Izzie tried to obey, she really did, but her body wouldn't listen. Every time she stilled and willed the quiet to wash her over, a surge of panic seized her heart and rendered her wide-awake. After a few minutes, trying seemed futile. Especially with Ryker in the other room. With the haven they'd built standing on wobbly ground. He said he loved her, and she believed him, but what happened next? Did they run off together? Did she become a vampire? She wouldn't hunt anymore—that was for certain—because she was no one's executioner.

Where did that leave her?

The logical thing to do was talk about it with Ryker. It was easier said than done. She still didn't know what being loved entailed, or what he wanted from or with her. She just knew he loved her.

Izzie wet her lips and slipped out of bed. She didn't bother dressing; even if Ryker thought she was malnourished, he maintained a healthy appreciation for her naked body. Also, clothing seemed counterproductive to joining a lover in the shower.

Women did that on television. During the day, she'd catch occasional soap operas and the like—the glamorized lives of people very different from anyone she'd met. They would open shower doors and slip inside, always greeted with a smile and a kiss. Izzie had thought it bizarre that anyone would want company while cleansing, but now, with the clock running out, she wanted Ryker one more time.

Hell, she needed him one more time.

The bathroom door wasn't shut, and somehow he knew she was there before she could announce herself.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No," Izzie replied. "I can go back if you want."

Ryker slid open the shower door, and if she thought he was handsome dry, he was absolutely stunning wet. Hard, defined muscles dripping with water, his dark hair plastered to his skin. Try as she might, she couldn't keep from stealing a glance between his legs, where his cock rested half-erect.

"Was hoping you'd join me, actually," he said.

"You were?"

He nodded. "We'll clean up and go back to bed together."

In a flash she was in his arms, water cascading down her back. She felt his fingers in her hair, massaging soap into her scalp and washing it off again. His hands lathered her body, paying particular attention to her breasts and the tender area between her legs, and when he pressed the soap against her palm she returned the favor without question.

She lathered his cock last, her eyes glued to her work. It didn't seem possible that anything so large could fit inside her without making her scream in agony. Ryker's comments aside, Izzie recognized she was unhealthily thin and didn't boast great height or strength. How she managed to throw herself into fights where she was more than physically outmatched and still emerge the victor had always surprised her. She was fast, yes, and deadly with a blade, but anyone who looked at her would sooner laugh her off than view her as a threat.

Whether or not Ryker was larger than average men, she didn't know. All she knew was her hands were small and thin, and in them he looked as lethal as anything she'd wielded in a fight.

Perhaps that was her inexperience talking.

The more she touched, the more she wanted to touch, sample, and explore. Izzie's mouth twitched, suddenly eager to feel him inside, which was something she never thought she'd want to do for anyone. It had always seemed sordid in a way physical intimacy did not. And yet she wanted it. Hell, she owed it to him. He had driven her to orgasm with his tongue more times than she could recall, and she hadn't once done it in turn. She wasn't sure how.

Izzie sighed, her gaze still on his erection. "I want . . . ."

"Take it," Ryker said. "Whatever you want."

"I want to…" She frowned. "I haven't done it before."

"Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"You want that, too, right?" she replied instead, her cheeks hot. She still didn't look up. "You . . . in my mouth."

"Izzie, you'd be hard-pressed to find a man who'd refuse a blowjob." Ryker's fingers slid under her chin, coaxing her head up. "This something you want or something you think I expect?"

"Both."

"'Cause I don't expect anything."

"You should. You did it to me." She paused, flushing harder. "A lot."

"I wanted to. A lot." Ryker grinned. "But I don't expect—"

"I want to. I want to know how you taste. How you . . . ." Izzie swallowed. "Feel. In my mouth. I want—"

"F*ck."

"What?"

"You. You all over. You wanna go back to bedroom?"

"No. I want to do it here." For whatever reason, the shower seemed a better arena for practice. What they'd shared in bed was too perfect to sully with her fumbling attempts at providing oral pleasure. If she messed up here, perhaps the bed would still be safe for them. He wouldn't look at it and think of how she'd bumbled a simple blowjob.

Ryker leaned in and kissed her. "All right. Whatever you want. Whenever you want. I'm all yours."

"Tell me how to start."

He nodded, his gaze dropping to her mouth. "On your knees, Izzie."

The air sparked with unseen electricity. His words were charged with awe and a rush of power he didn't bother hiding, and Izzie was both too eager and too anxious to care about his boldness. Her mouth itched to explore his erection—he was suddenly her guinea pig, her vampire on which to experiment, to discover the powers imbedded within her feminine wiles.

For the second time in so many hours, she felt very womanly, sinking to her knees before her lover.

Her skin met the wet porcelain floor, and she reached for him before she could help herself. The second her fingers wrapped around his length, Ryker whimpered and threw his head back, her name rolling off his tongue.

Up close, Izzie allowed herself to look at him. Took in his every curve with her eyes, imagining how best to take him inside her mouth. "You're . . . ."

Ryker panted. Evidently, it was enough for him just to watch her appraise his cock. "I'm what?"

"Za—" She stopped before Wright's name escaped her lips. It seemed wrong talking about him when knelt before someone who did things to her no man had ever done. "He didn't have—"

"He didn't have a dick? Why am I not surprised?"

Izzie cleared her throat. "He didn't have this." She indicated his foreskin with a small caress of her thumb. Granted, it had been dark and she really hadn't seen Wright's anatomy—she just knew thanks to the answers he'd provided to her anxious pre-sex rambling. Thousands of intimate questions had bubbled off her lips, and to her memory, practically all had been answered in a clinical, damn near businesslike manner.

That period in her life seemed so far ago. Honestly, Izzie didn't remember much of the night itself. She'd been high on nerves.

"I'm not circumcised," Ryker said, softer. "Well, you can see that. But—"

"I like it." Izzie's face burned. "I like seeing you…"

"As God f*cking intended it?"

"Yeah. That sounds right." She worried her lip awkwardly between her teeth and began shyly stroking his length. Her fist fit around him nicely, and she loved the way he moaned with every pump of her hand. But she wanted guidance. She wanted to lick his skin and trust he'd tell her if she was doing it properly. She wanted—

"Careful now," Ryker murmured, his voice ragged. Then his fingers wove through her hair, gently stroking her scalp and encouraging her head forward. "Open up, sweets."

Her lips parted and his cock slid inside, and God if this wasn't the weirdest sensation on the planet she didn't know what was. It was so different from anything she'd yet experienced. She wasn't on a bed or cot or stretched out before him; she was on her knees, in a shower, without the protective veil of dark, and Ryker guided her head, drawing her forward so that she took a bit more of his cock into her mouth with every thrust.

"Wrap your lips around me . . . oh God, yeah, that's it." He released a jagged moan. "Every time I thrust in, squeeze your lips around me and suck me in. Oh yes. Yeah. Just like that."

He pulled her hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it away from her face as his hips pumped forward, allowing her to get a feel for the rhythm. Izzie willed her eyes shut and absorbed sensation—water splashing her face, Ryker's guttural whimpers, the feel of his cock slipping between her lips. She savored the taste of his skin as he explored just how deep he could go.

"You're so hot," he purred. "So hot."

Izzie's eyes flashed as her mouth danced down his length, then released him to speak. "This good?"

"Oh yes."

"I'm doing okay?"

Ryker nodded and settled his fingers over hers, his hips pushing forward as the head of his cock rubbed the outline of her wet mouth. "Inside, baby," he whimpered, gripping her hair and pulling her head forward. "Take me in."

She quirked a brow, her confidence slowly on the rise. There was an undeniable rush of power in this position—one she'd never associated with what she was doing. Blowjobs had always struck her as something that empowered the man—the man's victory in getting a woman submissive and on her knees with her mouth open. Never had she thought she could wield power while licking a guy's cock, and while there was every chance her power was limited to the vampire whom she touched, the rush was undeniably potent and oh so intoxicating. She'd become an addict in a matter of seconds.

"You didn't say 'please.'" Izzie flicked her tongue playfully along the underside of his length.

His eyes widened and landed on hers, and she burned watching him watch her as she played with him. Watching him absorb her—watching as her reflection dissolved in the crystalline sea within his endless gaze.

"Don't think you're in a position to refuse," he retorted. "Now suck me."

"Nope, don't think so." She licked the tip of his cock and shook her head free of his grip, her left hand dropping to explore the weight of his balls. "You like having these touched?"

If his answering growl hadn't sent shivers down her spine, she would have laughed. "If you don't know the answer to that," he rasped, "you know nothing about men."

"There we agree."

"I thought you wanted—ahhh!"

"A taste?" Izzie grinned and curled her tongue around his sac. "I'm not done. Let me play."

"I'm yours, baby."

She knew that, but she still wasn't ready to explore the connotations. Not yet. Instead, Izzie nodded again, pressing his erection to his stomach as she peppered a series of wet kisses along the underside. Without coaxing, she licked a soft path up and down before fixing on the small patch of skin between his shaft and his testicles.

A cross between a hiss and a yelp rebounded off the walls. "Oh f*ck." Suddenly his hands were in her hair again, the grip near painful. "Izzie!"

"Yes?"

"All the way in." He pressed his cockhead against her mouth and rubbed the closed seam of her lips. The sensation sent sharp little tickles to her *. "Wanna show you . . ."

"You don't like my playing?"

"I don't wanna play," he said loudly.

Izzie giggled and drew him into her mouth again, and shivered at his triumphant groan. His fingers tightened in her hair as he thrust forward. The head of his cock brushed the back of her throat, and she had to repress the urge to gag.

In the next second he voiced a gruff command: "Swallow."

Perhaps she'd pushed him too far—Izzie didn't know. She was aware on some level that she should be offended, or at least put up a half decent fight. But the rest of her was too aroused to care. She contracted her throat muscles around him and shivered again when he moaned in response, then he was pulling away again . . . pulling away until he lingered at the entrance of her mouth.

"Swallow every time I thrust," he said.

If his voice hadn't been rough with lust, his ass would have suffered a serious kicking. As it was, his voice gave away everything he wished to keep from her. His voice told her exactly who was in charge.

Izzie didn't know what she expected, though a repetitive slam of his hips until semen was spilling down her throat was around the top of the list. And while his hold on her remained commanding, there was nothing demonstrably rough about the way his body rocked against her. He was neither fast nor slow. He took his time, his eyes burning into her an endless hole—one from which she was certain she would never escape.

She didn't know if she wanted to escape. Not anymore.

"You . . . have . . . no . . . idea." Ryker panted, pumping harder. "How hot this looks. Watching my dick disappear into that heavenly mouth of yours. Feeling you take me—swallow me. You're wet, aren't you? I can smell how wet you are. How much you love this. Nod for me if you love this, Izzie."

She nodded before she could help herself. Damn him. His answering leer was almost embarrassing, but she spared her dignity by putting the limelight back on him with a timely squeeze of his balls.

"F*ck . . . Izzie. touch yourself."

Her eyes widened.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered. "It's just you and me here."

She released him just long enough to smack her lips and say, "Who's afraid?"

"Looked so hot last night. Do it for me?"

Izzie poked her tongue out at him, her hand abandoning his sac and traveling down her own shower-wet body. She stopped to massage her breast and took him between her lips again as her fingers slid down, down, down until she was cupping her p-ssy.





"Oh God." Ryker moaned. "Izzie."

She met his eyes.

"So pretty. Feel how wet you are?"

Feel wasn't a strong enough word. Izzie had known she was aroused, but the rush of fluid that greeted her fingers sent electric shocks through her body and she felt something small and potent charge through her buzzing veins at the softest contact. Her mouth relaxed around him with the weight of her sigh.

"Push your fingers inside your cunt, and pretend it's me." His voice had grown thick, his hips resuming their slow pace. "Pretend I'm stretching you wide. Pretend it's me who's filling up your sweet little hole with my prick. Pretend with me."

Pretending was enough to weaken her with lust, which must have translated to her eyes.

"Again?" he asked. "You want me inside again?"

She was sore, truth be told. Their rampant lovemaking had rendered her untrained muscles pleasantly achy, but at once not even that mattered. She did want him again. Over and over.

Yet she didn't want to confess it now. Now she wanted to taste. Therefore, Izzie ignored him, instead sucking him hard and holding him at the back of her throat. And then she swallowed. She swallowed again and again, caressing him with muscles she'd never known could hold such power over men. She watched him dissolve from one extreme to the next, her fingers settling over her * and rubbing fast as he came apart.

Then finally she felt him explode. Felt the ropy strands of his release spill down her throat as his body broke in trembles. The roar of her name split the air like thunder, and before she could even decide whether or not she liked his taste, Ryker had jerked her to her feet and was staring her down with that gorgeous, endless gaze of his. And then they were caught in unfamiliar waters—Izzie panting heavily, trapped in his grip but without want of escape, Ryker's chest heaving as his eyes searched hers for an unnamed something.

"Izzie," he whispered, staring hard at her. But not as hard as the force of his lips as they came crashing down on hers. Not as hard as the way his tongue fought its way into her mouth, thrashing her tongue with his.

He gave a deep, sensual purr that made her bones vibrate and sent a fresh wave of lust crashing over her veins. She was still pooling with need, her body melting into him like a heated candle. His mouth ripped at hers with ferocity which should have frightened her, but it did little more than fan the flames roaring closer to explosion.

He tasted of sin, and she inhaled him. She had no desire to return to the ways of virtue—not when the wicked felt this good. Not with the soothing rumble of his purrs against her chest. Not with his erect cock rubbing her belly. Not with the way he almost subconsciously whispered against her mouth, telling her things that tore down all past insecurities and built her up in a rush of womanly pride.

She'd never been kissed the way he kissed her. Shit, she'd barely been kissed at all, but those few times had never been like this. Like she was an elixir of all things pure and desirable. Like she was anything beyond a girl. Ryker might be growling into her, his teeth might be nipping at her, but the strokes of his lips were damn near reverent. He consumed her, devoured her, crawled inside her and made himself at home. He sucked her tongue and imprinted himself on the building blocks that made her who she was.

"Can you?" he asked between kisses. "Can you again?"

Her tone didn't match her bravado, but Izzie sensed with him, she could do anything. "Can you?"

"Vampire, sweets. I can go all day."

"So can I," she shot back.

He grinned and kissed the corner of her mouth. "No you can't. You're hurting now, aren't you?"

"Just a little."

"Then I—"

"But I want it." Izzie lowered her face to his shoulder and softly sank her teeth into his skin. And she knew she had him. With vampires, biting was an invitation for sex, though she couldn't recall when she'd learned that at the moment, or if she was just making it up.

Either way, it seemed to work. Ryker trembled hard and his voice lowered an octave. "Wrap your legs around me."

Izzie obeyed blindly and gasped into his mouth. The head of his cock slipped between her p-ssy lips and proceeded to torture her into an early grave, dancing up and down her slit. He swirled his hips once, twice, taking himself into his hand and directing his silky tip to her *oris.

"I'm gonna f*ck you," he told her. "You asked for it."

"I did."

"Even if it hurts?"

"I don't care. I just want you."

He pressed his brow to hers. "I want you, too. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. I want you to come until you can't come anymore. Until you can't say anything for screaming my name. Until you don't remember what it's like to not have me inside you."

Izzie gasped, leaning in before she could help herself to steal a tender kiss from his lips. The look on his face sent her to the stars. "I think I'm okay with that."

"That's not all," Ryker said. "I want more from you than you can give."

"Don't know until you ask."

"Even if it's forever? Even if it's you and me . . . forever?"

The reality of his question weighed upon her without warning. The line between death and eternity, human and nonhuman, choice and design. For the first time she had a choice—a voice in her fate, in her future.

"You might not want me forever," she reasoned.

"I do."

"How do you know?"

"I love you. Told you plenty."

"But what if you don't always love me?"

Ryker shook his head. "Doesn't work that way."

"It works that way every day. I've seen it."

"It doesn't work that way with me."

She frowned. "How do you know?"

"I just do. And I want you forever." He stared unblinkingly into her eyes. "If I asked for forever, would you give it?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. And she didn't. She hadn't the slightest idea—she couldn't think now, on virtually no sleep and a body aching from and desperate for sex. The words she spoke came fast and unfiltered, but she believed them wholly, even before she knew what they'd say. "But I want to say yes."

Whatever else, Ryker had clearly not expected that. "Izzie."

His voice was a whisper as he surrendered, his cock pushing within her p-ssy, the cool column of steely flesh rubbing her soaked insides. He buried himself deeper, deeper, spreading her so wide she thought she would rip down the middle—and were it not for the pleasure numbing her mind and attacking every vital nerve in her body, she was sure she would be in pain.

"God, yes."

She clutched the back of his head as her own fell helplessly against the wall.

"I've never felt anything so hot," Ryker murmured, his lips fluttering across her shoulder. "Not until you."

Izzie liked to think she would have said something moderately coherent, but the next second, he was moving inside her. Pulling her apart and piecing her together again with the slow, tortuous thrusts of his hips. Her jaw fell slack and a long, wordless sound fell through her lips. It didn't help when his mouth began showering kisses along her collarbone, nor did it help when his teeth scraped hotly against her flesh. Nothing helped—her senses were consumed entirely in him.

In this.

"Fight me," Ryker said, a hand dropping to her ass to angle her into his thrusts. "Every time I sink inside, you push up, yeah?"

"Against the wall," she said breathlessly, "is different for me."

"I know."

"And if I fall—"

"I'll catch you," Ryker growled, drawing out of her body slowly before sinking in again, a pleasured sigh tearing through his throat.

"What if you fall, too?"

"We fall together."

Izzie sucked in a breath, her hips pushing forward to recapture his cock as he pulled back again. "I want more."

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"I don't care."

"I do," Ryker replied. He surged within her, and sucked her lip between his teeth as he pulled away again, his grip on her hips commanding her forward so that her p-ssy dragged with him. The wet suctioning of her flesh fighting to keep him locked inside her struck a primal nerve deep within her body. It was so bare—so open. He had her nailed to the wall with his erection, and he was determined to drill her so good she forgot how to walk.

"Tell me again," Izzie said softly. "Please."

"I love you."

She could have melted, then. Withered away happy. The power the words had over her should have terrified her, but it didn't. At least not enough to cut herself off. "Ohh. Yes."

"F*ck, the sounds you make." Ryker shuddered and grunted, his pace beginning to harden.

And though it hurt a bit, her body demanded more. Needed more. She wouldn't object. She just wanted to keep him moving. Wanted to keep the slick feel of him gliding in and out of her body. Her skin was hot and clammy, her nerves buzzing so hard she was astonished when they didn't blink out on overload. All she knew was she had to keep him. Had to fight. Her hips surged upward every time he dared try to escape her. Every time he fell back.

The shower water had long ago lost its heat, but even the liquefied shards of ice couldn't help to quell the steady grow of the fire in her belly. There was nothing but Ryker—nothing but the naked feel of him plunging into a part of her that had too long felt open and bare. Vacant. Her p-ssy clenched him hard every time he sank home, her hips battling his incessant need to pull away from her.

"So good." He growled, and dipped his head to tease her nipple. "Nothing's ever felt so good."

"You're—lying."

Ryker's brow furrowed. "Does it feel like I'm lying?"

"Ryker, please—"

"Please. What?"

"I need. I need—"

"You need to come?"

The illicit smacks of his flesh hitting hers were making reality blink out again. Her vaginal walls clenched and her skin about melted off.

"You need it?"

"Yes. Yes." The words were out before her mind could catch up. "Yes, God, Ryker."

"Tell me."

"I need you. Ryker, please."

Something behind his gaze changed, baring him open to her, and she drank everything in. Ryker murmured and moved hard, again, again, his thrusts anxious, feverish, pushing into her with desperation. And with every plunge inside, she squeezed, the slippery slide of his flesh driving her into a new form of insanity, her p-ssy tightening and grasping him so hard the moans he gave her were almost riddled with pain.

His fingers kept busy at her *, rubbing her fast but softly. His hungry eyes devoured her, swallowing every pleasured gasp, every euphoric sigh. He was so beautiful, and hers. He had become hers at some point. Perhaps they had been designed this way.

And she wanted to keep him forever.

Izzie made a decision then—a fast one. One she didn't question and knew he couldn't refuse, even if he wanted to.

"Bite me." The words rode out on a gasp. "Bite me now."

Any sign of resistance was fleeting. Then there was a flash of fang and a sting at her throat, and ecstasy so raw exploded that the blackness behind the fireworks consumed her, and the world fell away.



* * * * *



Ryker performed a cursory sweep of the cabin, checking for the last time for anything they had left out of place. It wasn't as though the owners wouldn't realize someone had broken in—the front lock was now useless, a good amount of the canned goods were gone, and Izzie had packed about every article of clothing she found in the bedroom. She'd also helped herself to the stock of toiletries in the bathroom, and he didn't ask why. The life she'd led up until a few days ago hadn't allowed much room for luxuries, and the only possessions she was allowed were what she could carry.

"That's it," Ryker said, approaching the front door. "All clear."

Izzie crossed her arms anxiously. She hadn't slept much, as the second dose of his bite had fueled her with nervous energy. He'd held her to his chest while the worst of it passed to keep her from accidentally breaking a dresser or taking a door off its hinge. The second stage for transitioning vampires was the worst in most cases, and typically led to a junkie-like need for another taste of death before a day had passed. If he'd been thinking clearly, he wouldn't have bitten her at all. Not without explaining again that she was on the path to becoming a vampire, and that where the first stage had brought about energy and strength, her body chemistry was too exhausted by the second bite to predict how she'd handle it.

The worst seemed over now. Izzie looked tired but at least her eyes were back to normal.

It'd be easy. It'd be so easy to take her in his arms and finish it. The third bite would render her unconscious, and he'd be with her all the way. Driving them somewhere nice and cozy, and when she awoke, he'd help her adjust to her new life. To start planning an endless future with the woman he loved.

It couldn't end that simply. He knew better. If she wanted it, she'd ask. Hopefully he'd have enough control to make sure it was what she wanted before he gave her the finishing touches.

"What happens now?" Izzie asked.

"I figure we head back to St. Louis. I owe Michael a chat." And a swift, brutal killing. Or a long and painful one. He hadn't decided. "And then it's up to you."

"Up to me?"

Ryker nodded. "What do you want?"

"Do—do you want me to stay with you?"

Questions like this threw him off balance, even more so when he realized it was authentic doubt rather than insecurity. And then something occurred to him that he should have recognized right off: Izzie had no experience dealing with the world's kinder emotions. She'd already explained the hellish conditions of her upbringing as well as what had followed. Wright hadn't taught her anything but how to take the pain of her father's house and channel them into a hatred of all things that went bump in the night.

Even the night she'd lost her virginity, from what Ryker gathered, hadn't been tender and sweet, rather direct and matter-of-fact. Thus when she looked at him with such wide eyes and genuine confusion, when she didn't know how to respond to him when he said he loved her, or demanded he repeat it, it was because love was more unreal to her than anything that had happened in Briggs's cell.

Ryker sighed, his shoulders slumping. She broke his heart without even trying.

"Do you want to stay with me?" he asked.

Izzie licked her lips. "I . . . ."

"I won't make you stay with me."

"You love me, though."

Ryker took a step forward and nodded again. "I do. But you don't need to stay with me because I love you. I want you to—if you stay with me, I want it to be because it's what you want to do."

"But I do."

"You do?"

"I want to stay with you. I . . . ." Izzie expelled a deep breath and glanced down. "I'm no good at this, Ryker. I don't know what to do or what not to do, and I don't know if I can ever know if I love you, too. But you're the only person I can see myself with."

"That took me right off my feet," he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. "See, and that's it. How do people say these things to each other every day? I don't know what love is or if what I feel for you is love at all or anything, but I know I want to be with you as long as you want me with you."

"And not out of fear?"

Izzie shook her head. "I'm not afraid of being on my own."

"Yes you are. You're f*cking terrified of being on your own."

"I managed once and I can manage again."

"We all manage. Doesn't make you any less afraid." Ryker broke away. "Look, I'm set. You know where I stand. If you want me, I'm yours. All the f*cking way. You're all I want. Just you. Today, tomorrow, and forever on. But I don't wanna be your escape plan, you hear. It's real for me."

"It is for me, too."

"How do you know?"

Izzie huffed and offered an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know how I know, I just do. I told you before, when I busted you out . . . I told you I didn't fake it."

"And then you needed space."

"You're the one who came into my room last night."

Ryker's brow furrowed. How in the world had they started arguing? "Izzie—"

Her hands came up. "I don't know what I feel. Everything's been a little fuzzy for me. But I know I want whatever this is to be love. I know I want to love you. I don't know if that's enough, but—"

The space around him blurred, and Ryker didn't realize he'd moved until he had her in his arms, her lips against his and her voice fading in his mouth. He kissed her breathless, kissed her until her body sagged and her tongue gave into the dance of his. She melted and sighed, her hands finding his cheeks and keeping him there, battling, needing, tasting him, and all at once nothing mattered.

"That's enough," he assured her between kisses. "That's always enough. Just say you'll stay."

"I'll stay."

"You want to."

Izzie nodded and he kissed her again, and it was enough. Something had clicked. Something else he should have realized, should have seen since she opened the cell door to save him before she thought of saving herself.

He felt it now, and perhaps he'd felt it longer without acknowledging it. Words were just that—words. They didn't equal the sentiment of feeling, and he'd have them when she was ready. When she didn't second-guess what she felt.

Izzie did love him. She just didn't know it yet.