by Nicole Snow
And that explosive exchange with Bebe Silk hinted at a lot more going on with his mother.
But his eyes are dark, distant, and it’s not the time to pry answers out of him.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
I feel for him.
It’s odd how easily a person thinks Prince Charming must have it all, yet never really knows what he went through. Even with a famous mother—which sounds almost as difficult as having a father who got mixed up with an ugly business—life wasn’t set on easy.
He flashes me one of those sexy smiles to die for. “Don’t be sorry. It was my choice to leave and take back control of my life.”
“What did you do then?”
“Went right back to acting after finishing my reserve duties on the side,” he says.
“And became a blockbuster hit,” I remind him.
“Only a few of my last movies were that big, but it was mostly the timing, the market interest. They weren’t any better than some of the others, they just resonated with audiences and took off. Then my mother died and it...threw my shit for a loop, let’s say. I’m sure you looked up my last two films. Turns out, people love Dane Barnet the actor a thousand times more than Barnet the producer.”
My fingers thread deeper through his, our palms touching, and I tighten my hold on his hand. “How did she die? I’ve seen so many articles, but I’m curious...if it’s not too personal.”
“Suicide.”
Boom. Point-blank. He doesn’t even hesitate.
“Oh, God.” My heart stops. “Oh, Ridge, I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head, those blue eyes flaring in the darkness.
“What’s done is done. I knew she’d been having issues the last few years. Big part of the reason I quit the Army, so I could be around more, look in on her.” He shakes his head again. “Nobody saw it coming. I couldn’t believe it. Tobin, he...fuck.”
Breathless, I wait for more, but after the longest ten seconds of my life, I realize it’s not coming.
I wish I hadn’t asked.
Wish I hadn’t dragged him back to that pain.
He sounds so solemn, so wounded, so—I don’t know—lost?
“Here we are,” he says, his face brightening. “Home sweet home.”
I glance up, surprised to see the house. The miles went by in a blur, eaten up by our conversation.
He pulls up in front of the big garage and turns off the engine. “I’ll have to open the garage from inside. The remote’s in my truck.”
“I’ll do it.”
“No, darlin’, let me. You’ve had a long day.”
I have, and I question if I should go see Dad, but it’s going on one o’clock in the morning.
Jackie texted a couple of times while we were gone, letting me know that Dad was doing just fine. By ten o’clock, he’d been sleeping soundly after finishing dinner, a plate of chicken and dumplings brought by Tobin.
We walk in the front door together, and as we separate in the foyer, him to go to the garage and me to go up the winding staircase, I stop.
“Night, Ridge,” I call out. “And thanks again for...for everything.”
“Night, lady. Thanks for making our mission fun. I enjoyed myself for the first time since the snow.” He traps me with a gaze so honest, so grateful, I feel like we’re back on that stage.
I feel the illusion of us all over again.
Wow.
“Me, too.” My feet feel like they weigh a hundred pounds as I turn, treading up the steps.
It was a nice night, a break from the endless terror and chaos.
I just hope I didn’t spoil it by dredging up his past.
In my room, I take off the outfit I’d worn to town and put on a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a t-shirt.
It’s hard to avoid the remorse that comes down in an avalanche.
I knew his mother committed suicide. I’d read the speculation online.
So why did I need to hear it from him? Sure, the crapfest I’d overheard with Ridge and Bebe provoked plenty of questions.
But he’s busy doing all he can to save my life, and I repay him with a bad case of foot-in-mouth.
Shame.
Grabbing my toothbrush, I’m ready to rage-brush my teeth, only I can’t find any toothpaste. Possibly the one thing they forgot to stock my bathroom with, so I head across the hall.
Ridge stands in the hallway near the stairs. I consider running before he turns.
Too late.
The regret inside me glazes over. I’ve lived with so much, for so long, I don’t need more.
But the grin he flashes makes my knees weak.
If there’s any unresolved angst over our conversation and my nosy-as-hell questions, it’s sure not in his expression.
Even with my mind full of doubts, my body never left the dance floor where his kiss, his caress, his energy had me pressing my hips against his.
How could I forget the firmness, the thick bulge in his pants?
My eyes flick down his body. Dangerously close to that spot below the waist I desperately need to ignore.
“I, uh, toothpaste!” I sputter.
“Come again?” His smile gets wider and he steps closer.
Okay. I manage to pull my eyes up, meet his, and instantly feel the heat rushing to my face at the way he lifts a brow.
“There wasn’t any in the bathroom, so I went searching. Also...I’m sorry, Ridge.”
“For what?” he asks softly.
“Barfing up those questions in the truck, mostly,” I blurt out while I can still speak. “It wasn’t my place, snooping around in your life.”
It’s also not my place to be as wet as I was when we left Libations.
I haven’t forgotten that for a second.
Good Lord, I’ve never been so turned on by anyone. Not like this. It’s been years since I even had the time or energy to mess around, and dates were few and far between, mostly in college.
None of those boys ever came close to the Ridge Barnet treatment, the slow-burn sweetness he’d delivered tonight.
“You’re still twisted up over that? Grace, I don’t mind, I told you,” he says, stepping forward and stopping in front of me.
I wonder how long I can hold my breath so I don’t get a whiff of his aftershave.
“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. Everything you told me, it must’ve been rough, the kinda thing a person tries hard to forget.” I shake my head.
“You didn’t know, darlin’. It’s natural to be curious, especially when you read that crap online and I’m, well, me.” He reaches up, stroking his chin, torturing me without even knowing it as his fingers slide over his stubble. “I’m not even thinking about that shit anymore, to be honest.”
“No?” The air heaves out my lungs.
“Nope. I’m thinking about the dance. We gave the crowd a show they’ll never forget. You moved across that floor like an angel. Only, I don’t think angels are supposed to stir up my head with sin. I’ve still got plenty rolling around up here.”
He moves his hand up and gently taps his temple. His gaze threatens to burn me alive.
Holy hell.
It’s almost worse that he’s playing coy.
Not just coming out with some lewd remark about what he’s aching to do to me.
Not just running those firm, rough hands between my legs.
Not just moving in for the kill.
He touches the side of my face then, tracing my jawline. “So are you done sleuthin’ around in the mud on Google? Do you want to know the real Ridge?”
I keep my eyes down, my breath fluttering.
“Yes.”
His laugh comes soft, sexy, heavy as an approaching storm. “You know why else I came up here?”
Lifting my head, meeting his gaze, my mind goes blank, except for the memory of that body grinding against mine as if we’d both been pounding aphrodisiacs at the bar.
“I forgot to kiss you good night, Grac
e,” he whispers. “It’s the proper thing for a man to do after a big engagement party.”
Oh, God. Oh, no. Oh, please!
I pinch my lips shut to prevent something stupid from ruining the moment.
Then those big, strong hands of his are on my waist and I’m in rapture as he pulls me against him.
It’s a kiss like we’ve never had, the first kiss alone we knew was coming.
Ridge Barnet claims my mouth with a vengeance, a low growl, all teeth, tongue, and fire.
I push up on the tips of my toes, sighing, melting into a moaning mess in his arms.
Thank God he holds me up.
Because my knees go out from under me, and every last part of my brain focuses on holding on and giving as good as I get.
From the way he stiffens and the places those hands roam, I think I hold my own.
He barely breaks for air before he’s on me again, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, giving me this feral love-bite with a snarly demand.
Mine. Tonight.
Wow, and I don’t think he’s taking no for an answer.
Good thing I wouldn’t dream of saying it, either.
We’re already past reckless, this seething mess of tangled arms and raw emotions. Ridge pushes me against the wall, driving his hot lips against my throat, taking me over.
My legs part, and that bulge I felt back at the bar...
It was nothing—absolutely freaking nothing—compared to the hard weight pressed against me, throbbing with vicious need.
Oh.
My.
God.
I lock my arms around his neck, returning the kisses, needing it so bad.
Needing him.
I trace his jaw with one hand, staring into his eyes, panting. He tucks his fingers under my chin, lifts my face, staring like a beast who’s driven to swallow me up.
“Fuck,” he rasps, those blue eyes pinning me to the wall. “You’ve been hiding a mouth like that this whole time? You have any clue what you do to me?”
I wonder if I’ll even get a chance to find out.
I’m about to die.
Keel right over before I’m even ravaged by a dark prince half the women ever born would fling themselves at. I’m so dizzy I have to lean against him, and he chuckles, low and sultry.
“Ridge...are we getting carried away?” I whimper.
“Probably,” he growls, before moving on me again. “Don’t think for a second that means we’ll stop, darlin’. I want to make you come so good for me you don’t have any room left in your head for worries. Let me fuck the bad right out of you tonight.”
So much for the filter he had a minute ago, not that I’m complaining one bit.
In fact, I think I like him in this rough and tumble, downright dirty mode.
I’m lucky my body runs on instinct as his hands cup my butt, lifting me high, pressing me firmly against his hard-on. The look he gives me when he sees I can feel it shreds me.
Rips me apart with a wicked blue-eyed fire.
My hands flatten against his chest, and I claw at his shirt, starving.
Shamelessly, I push my breasts harder against his chest, wanting more, but settle for him setting the pace.
He pulls his mouth away from mine, only to drag these amazing kisses down the side of my neck, raking his stubble against my skin.
My head falls back, giving him full access to more skin, more places to kiss, more everything.
His hands slide lower, fingers digging under the hem of my shorts.
I get the impression it wouldn’t take much at all to shear them right off. But he takes them down so very slow, skimming my legs as they fall.
God.
My pussy hurts, throbs with a heat that’s ravenous, wanting him inside me right now.
Hurt me.
Take it all away.
Make me forget everything except your skin.
My hand drags at his shirt, grabbing a fistful. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to make me come on the spot with those mad kisses before we’ve even had a chance to—
“Do you want this?” he pants, pulling back, gazing into my eyes.
“Um...don’t you?”
“No.” His finger slides beneath the elastic of my panties as he kisses a spot where my neck blends into my shoulder. “I fucking need it, Grace. But I’m giving you one more chance, if it’s too much...”
I quiver, afraid I’m about to erupt.
Before now, I never believed it’d be possible to have an O while I’m still half clothed, but it’s a very real risk with every passing second.
Lifting his head, he looks me in the eye as his fingertips brush my folds. One quick, sweeping motion.
My eyes flutter shut at the raging pleasure.
“Last chance, Grace.” He strokes my hair with his free hand. “You want me to stop?”
“No!”
“Do you want to come to my room?” His finger pushes into me, and my eyes snap open as this sultry whine slips off my tongue. “Do you want my mouth? My hands? My cock?”
Oh, shit.
My knees can’t stop shaking. He moves closer, helping hold me against the wall. His fingers sink deeper, thumb on my clit, stroking with the skill of a man who knows how to leave a woman locked in a fever-dream.
“Do you want me to pillage you all night, woman?” he growls, bringing his lips to my throat, sucking at my skin, marking me. “Because that’s what I’m aiming to do, throw you right the hell over my shoulder, but first...you’re gonna give it. Come for me, darlin’. Come right here, right now. I want to hear you.”
I gasp, planting my mouth over his, parting his lips with my tongue.
His weight bangs me against the wall and his fingers work faster, harder thrusts, pushing lightning through me. I’m so slick I can feel it dripping down my thighs with the fabric pushed aside, those devil’s fingers in deep, bringing me off with zero mercy.
When his thumb finds my clit again...
Oh!
He inhales sharply before attacking my mouth, stealing the harsh groan pulsing out as my vision goes white.
My knees buckle.
My thighs clench together around his hand.
My soul leaves my body.
For the next few ferocious minutes, I’m coming like I never have in my life, barely biting back screams.
I barely even remember my own name when he sinks his teeth into my lip, hitting my clit again and again with his thumb, pivoting his fingers against my walls, pushing buttons I never knew I flipping had.
Oh, but I do now.
And I wonder if I’m already ruined as I open my eyes again and find him holding me with both hands, staring down.
Ridge pushes his forehead to mine, slowly breathing like he’s about to explode, gazing at me like I’m this precious bird he’s just witnessed for the first time in his life.
“Darlin’...let’s go. We stay out here any longer, I think you’ll wake up Tobin on the other end of the house, and everybody in the guesthouse, too.” He smiles, pure joy in his eyes—probably because I’m so flushed I think I’ve invented new shades of red. “Can you still walk?”
Ridiculous question.
I cock my head, staring in disbelief. Come on, it was all kinds of good, but it wasn’t—
Oh.
So, maybe it isn’t just a crazy ego boast when I try taking a step and instantly stagger.
Smiling, he takes my hand, helping me up, leading me the rest of the way, hand so hot I’m already thinking about the sweet insanity ahead.
I’m not sure how I make it down the hall without self-combusting, nor do I care.
I’ve never been this hot for a man in my life.
The short break before having sex so hot it folds the fabric of space-time should be a good time to think, to reconsider what I’m doing, but...
Nope.
The ship sailed on that about ten minutes ago, and it’s not coming back to port.
Consequences be damned, I want his
hands, his lips, his superstar dick.
We enter the room, still kissing, his hand diving back in my panties, working me up to a thick heat again.
It’s so flipping good I can’t stop trembling.
Ridge shuts the door, spins me around, and pushes me gently down on the bed. He’s on me a second later, his manly weight pressing me down, shifting my legs apart with his knee.
Oh, hell.
He goes to town, ripping my panties down my legs, then kissing up my legs again with his mouth. At first it’s a slow torture.
Then he dives in, finding my heat, his tongue pulling me apart, and I realize how screwed I am.
I’m addicted in under a minute.
Hooked on his lips, his tongue, the way he makes me ride his dusting of beard, the contrast of his rough, gorgeous face on my soft skin, the pressure of his tongue as he licks up and down my folds.
And when he dives in, thrusting deep, grazing my clit and then making it a willing prisoner to his fire...
I’m so done.
Ready to come again.
Right here, right now.
I fight it for a few hopeless seconds, trying to hold back, but there’s a better chance of summoning a unicorn from thin air than keeping it together under Ridge Barnet’s mouth.
Of course, I’ve also been starved. That’s what happens when your sex life consists of a hot-pink Battery Operated Boyfriend for the last few years.
The fact that I’m being licked by an alpha-licious movie star? It’s like a starving woman taking her first bite of German chocolate cake from the finest bakery after having nothing but beans and easy mac for years.
Years.
“Grace,” he whispers, lifting his face just enough for me to see fiery blue staring up. “Don’t fight me. Let it fucking go.”
Not the words my body needs to hear.
The second it does, and he wraps his lips around my clit again, I’m speechless.
When you’re coming so hard you can’t even bite back your screams or stop for even half a second to worry about interrupting the butler’s beauty sleep, you know words are the least of your happy problems.
It isn’t fair how good it feels to obey this man.
To give up control, to grip his shoulders, desperately grinding my hips against his face in frantic jerks, full surrender to the sanity-killing O he whips through my body.
