Her head fell back against the pillows as he stroked. “Oh, yes,” she moaned loudly.
Damn, she was so sexy. He bent down, placing his mouth over her, tasting her through the cloth.
“Ryder, don’t stop!”
Not a chance in hell.
Pushing the lace aside, he continued to rub while his tongue tasted her, delving inside to simulate what he would soon be doing to her with his cock. She tasted so sweet; he couldn’t get enough.
All too soon, he felt her body tighten. She let out a cry of pleasure. He continued his ministrations even after she finished, working her up again, driving her to another peak. When she was almost to the crest, he pulled away.
“What?”
Without answering, Ryder quickly shucked his jeans and boxers. Reaching to his nightstand, he dug around, thanking his lucky stars when he found a condom. He ripped open the foil with his teeth.
Kayla’s soft hand touched his, stopping him before he could put it on. “Let me.”
He passed it to her and watched as she eyed him with hunger. Her hand reached out, grasping him softly, and he cursed at the sweet feel.
“You’re big.”
It wasn’t a compliment, just a fact. He took it as such. “We’ll fit.”
“I know.”
Then she wrapped her hand around him, stroking up and down once. It felt so good he nearly lost it. “Sweetheart, as amazing as that feels, you need to hurry up or I’m going to embarrass myself.”
She giggled. “Nothing about you is embarrassing, Ryder. Trust me.”
Slowly, a pleasurable torture, she rolled the condom on. About time. She burned him up so much he wasn’t sure he could last much longer.
Taking her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss, he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly sank into her welcoming warmth. He slid in with ease, pressed deep inside until he couldn’t go any farther.
Perfection. Being inside Kayla was as close to heaven as he had ever been.
He let out a harsh groan. “Damn, sweetheart, you feel amazing.”
“So,” she panted, “do you.”
He moved then, slow, deep strokes. She matched his rhythm, and soon they were climbing together to that ultimate peak. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him to her for another soul-consuming kiss. He quickened his thrusts. Her legs wrapped around him and he felt her inner muscles tighten.
Her mouth ripped away from his, and she screamed as her orgasm hit her full force. Ryder watched in awe; it was a beautiful thing to see. But he could only enjoy it a moment before his own body tighten with release. He pumped into her twice more, hard, fast thrusts, before losing himself.
Ryder collapsed on bed, shifting them until he was lying on his back with Kayla splayed across his chest.
“Wow,” she muttered, breath coming in harsh gasps.
“You can say that again.”
“Wow!”
He chuckled, tucking her close, placing a kiss to her damp forehead. “Wanna take a shower?”
“I’d like that.” She grinned up at him then rose, walking toward the master bath.
He watched the sway of her sexy ass.
“Oh, and Ryder?”
Reluctantly, he pried his gaze away from her backside to find her glancing at him over her shoulder, a wicked glint in her eyes.
“It’s my turn to taste.”
And just like that, he was ready to go again. He grinned, leaping from the bed to join her.
Oh yes, Kayla Jenkins was one amazing woman.
Chapter 19
David sat in the pathetic excuse for a motel room. The wallpaper was yellowed and peeling, the carpet smelled of smoke, and the spiders in the dingy bathroom outnumbered him a dozen to one. Disgusting, and not his standard travel preference. He preferred hotel suites with fully stocked mini bars and in-room Jacuzzi tubs. He was used to the best. Growing up, his family always had money, and they flaunted it with pride.
This room wasn’t a step down from his norm, it was a free fall plunge into the abyss. But it was cheap, right off the highway, and accepted cash with the name Mr. Smith. Right now, he needed the anonymity. So, this shitty room would have to do.
After reviewing the footage at the drug store in Kansas, he’d come up with a plan and sent out an APB to every police station within fifteen hundred miles, every station except for those in Illinois. If Chief Vic discovered he was trying to find Kayla himself, without sharing any information with the station, the old man would have his ass.
And possibly his badge.
But he needed to find Kayla, before anyone else. He couldn’t allow her to talk, tell her side of the story. Highly unlikely anyone would believe her, but all it took was one shred of doubt and the investigation could turn toward him. David couldn’t allow that to happen.
So, he’d sent out the APBs from his private computer. It wasn’t hard to mock up a document to look official. The Internet was a very helpful tool. A man could find instructions for anything on there. He was no computer geek, but he could use a search engine and Photoshop.
A shrill chime from his phone alerted him to an incoming call.
“Tyler,” he answered, putting the phone to his ear.
“Hey, it’s Perry.”
Speaking of computer geeks. Perry Lang was a mid-level hacker who did favors for him in exchange for letting the guy off the hook when he got busted for identity theft. He’d covered Lang’s ass, and now the time had come for Lang to return the favor.
“What do you have for me?” No small talk among men like them.
“I ran the photo you sent me through my feeds.”
Lang had access to some satellite thing with facial recognition around the country. Most likely illegal, but David didn’t care. If it found Kayla, that was all that mattered.
“Did you find anything?”
“Not yet.”
He gripped the phone tighter, temper rising. “Then why the hell are you calling?”
A whimper came from the other end. The guy had the guts of a goldfish, but David didn’t need his guts. He needed the geek’s computer skills.
“Well, um, I didn’t find her yet, but I did find something else.”
“What?” The single word ripped from his throat. His patience was on a short fuse.
“Someone’s been looking into your files.”
Sonofabitch! “Who?”
The sound of fingers clacking against a keyboard came over the line before Lang responded. “Some lawyer in Colorado. Julie Ryder. Looks like she got access to your juvenile record.”
What the hell? That record was supposed to be sealed. His father’s lawyer assured him it would never see the light of day. Bloodsucker got paid enough to shoot that thing into space—how the hell did some country-ass lawyer get her hands on it?
“Why the hell is she digging into my past?” That was the more important question right now.
“I don’t know.” The fear in his voice came through the phone loud and clear. “I just know she got the information.”
There was only one explanation, Kayla had managed to convince the lawyer she was innocent, and now this Julie Ryder was looking into his history to prove he was capable of killing Jen. The sealed record couldn’t be used in a court of law; still, if the bitch found it, then it stood to reason she could find out other things. The bribes, the other women he paid not to talk, there were any number of dark deeds someone could find if they were looking hard enough.
Fuck!
“Get me everything on this lawyer.” His hand gripped his phone in a bruising hold, rage burning through every inch of his body. “I want to know where she lives, who her family is, what she eats for goddamn breakfast! You hear me?”
“Ye—yes,” Lang stammered. “I’m on it—”
David hung up while the nervous geek was still stuttering out his response. Screaming with fury, he ripped the lamp from the nightstand and sent it hurtling across the room. It hit the wall, shattering into dozens of pieces
.
Shit, shit, shit!
Things were getting out of hand. He needed to find Kayla and silence the bitch, now. It looked like he was going to have to take care of the lawyer, too. Shouldn’t be too hard. Colorado, huh? They had snowy mountain roads out there, right? An icy road, dark night, high mountain pass with no guardrails, the perfect accident. If he got really lucky, the bodies would never be found.
Grabbing his bag, he said goodbye to the shitty motel room and arachnid roommates, got in his car, and pulled onto the highway. He could take I-70 all the way to Colorado. Once Lang found Julie Ryder’s address, he’d set his plan in motion.
He turned on the radio to John Denver’s melodic voice belting out “Rocky Mountain High.” David smiled. It was a sign. In his mind, he imagined Kayla’s eyes widening with fear as she tumbled off a fifty-foot cliff.
Rocky mountain high, indeed.
Chapter 20
Kayla woke in the middle of the night. At least, she thought it was the middle of the night as darkness shrouded the room. Ryder had closed the curtains before they fell asleep, but no sunlight peeked in around the cloth, so she figured it was still nighttime.
His strong arms were wrapped around her. They felt warm and safe and something else…something she wasn’t used to. There was some emotion deep inside her she couldn’t name. Or didn’t want to name. If she was feeling what she suspected, it would create more problems than she had already. And she had a lot of problems right now.
Best not to dwell on it too much. Better to live in the moment and enjoy.
Boy oh boy, is there a lot to enjoy.
Ryder was a very thorough lover. She didn’t have much experience when it came to relationships—a few long-term boyfriends and one disastrous one-night-stand she’d indulged in after a particularly nasty break up. It had been Jen who convinced her to “snag a rebound lay.” One of her friend’s few bad ideas.
A warm, wet, tear rolled down her cheek. Would she ever be able to remember her friend without crying? She hoped so. There were so many good memories. One day, she wanted to think of Jen and smile.
For now, perhaps a cold drink would help. She was a bit thirsty, all that energy expended earlier. Warmth of another kind rose inside her as she remembered everything she had done and had been done to her. Ryder spent hours making love to her. Never in her life had she felt so sexy, desired, and cherished. He found trigger spots on her body she didn’t even know existed. The man was a veritable sex god.
Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slipped from his arms and tiptoed across the room.
“Where you sneaking off to?” The sleepy rumble came from the bed she just vacated.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was going to get a glass of water. Would you like one?”
He rose on one elbow. The blanket fell to his waist, exposing his bare chest. A chest she’d memorized with her tongue earlier. She swore she could still feel all those hard planes and muscles, taste all that delicious, utterly male flesh. Her body temperature elevated at the memory.
Okay, now I really need a cold drink.
“Sure, I could use a rejuvenator.” A heated gleam entered his gaze.
“You’re insatiable.”
He grinned, giving her a wink. “Sweetheart, you’re just too tempting. Now, go get that water before I decide I can’t wait and take you again.”
As lovely as that sounded, she really was thirsty. Plus, she needed a minute to gather her thoughts. This thing with Ryder was all happening so fast. They only met a few days ago—not to mention under extreme circumstances.
He was helping her out with the whole David situation, letting her live with him, and now they were intimate. A small part of her warned she was relying on him too much. As someone who always had to rely on nobody but herself, it was a very new and strange experience. She’d never had anyone take care of her the way Ryder did. It felt wonderful and a little scary. She didn’t want to start depending on him only to lose him.
What happened if David found her or someone turned her in? And if she could somehow prove David was guilty, what then? She’d go back to her life in Chicago, and Ryder…he had his life here. Long distance rarely worked.
She made her way down the hallway to the kitchen, thoughts of relationships, murders, and happily-ever-afters consuming her. Though what she wore was one of Ryder’s black Tshirts, which fell to her knees, the thin material did nothing to keep out the cold night air. As she passed by the living room, she noticed Ryder’s discarded jacket thrown over the back of the couch. She grabbed it, stuffing her arms into the sleeves.
Much better.
Kayla pulled the coat around her and inhaled deeply, letting his scent envelope her. Woodsy with a hint of coffee. Mmmmmm.
She started toward the kitchen when something slipped from the pocket of the coat. Intending to simply return the paper from where it fell, she bent down and grabbed the corner. It unfolded in her fingers…and she froze.
Terror gripped her. Unable to move, she stared at her last year’s staff photo below the words: Wanted for Suspected Murder. There in black, glaring typeface was all her information: height, weight, hair, eye color, and…
…extremely dangerous and may be armed.
Oh no!
Ryder said they didn’t get news like this out here in Peak Town, but this proved him wrong.
…please contact Officer David Tyler of the Chicago Police Department.
David was looking for her. David specifically, because the number at the bottom was his cell phone—the same one Jen had taped up on the fridge in case Kayla ever needed it.
“You digging a well for that water or what?”
She jumped at Ryder’s smooth voice and tore her gaze away from the paper she held to look up at him.
“Kayla? What’s wrong, baby? You’re white as a ghost.”
Gripping the APB tight in her hand, she held it up. “He’s looking for me.”
He glanced at the paper then ran a hand through his long, unbound hair. “Shit.”
“Not the Chicago PD. David. See this number at the bottom? It’s not the station’s. It’s David’s. I recognize it.” She was rambling, she knew, but what else were you supposed to do when the man who had killed your best friend and framed you appeared to be out on a vendetta killing? She’d like to see anyone else keep their cool in this situation.
“I know.”
“You know…?”
Of course he knew. Ryder was the sheriff, had been at work all day. The paper fell from his jacket. He knew David was looking for her, and yet, he’d said nothing, all night. What did that mean?
A cold sense of dread filled her. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the terror of the situation. Her heartbeat raced, breath shuttering in harsh pants. Had he changed his mind? Did he think she was guilty after all? Did he intend to turn her in? Was this whole night just a way to keep her distracted until David showed up to haul her away…or worse, kill her?
The paper started to shake in her tight grip.
“Stop it.” The words were a growl in the darkness. “Right now.”
She opened her eyes to find him mere inches in front of her. How had he moved without her hearing?
His brown eyes narrowed; his sculpted jaw clenched tight. Those amazing lips, which only hours ago had teased and tormented her body into mind-numbing bliss, now flattened with disappointment.
“Stop what?” Her heart pounded in her chest. The fear all-consuming. What was she going to do?
“Stop thinking I turned you in. I can see it on your face, Kayla.” He shook his head when her jaw dropped in shock. “How could you think, after what happened between us tonight, I would ever hurt you like that?”
She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to believe.
“I don’t care what this paper says, I believe you. I know you didn’t kill your best friend.” When she still remained mute, he took her face in his hands. Leaning down, he placed a hard and fast kiss t
o her lips. “I care about you, dammit.”
He kissed her again, soft this time. Pressing his lips against hers. Savoring her as if she was special, as if she mattered.
“More than I’ve cared about anyone, ever.” His voice was softer when he spoke again.
She sucked in a breath as her pounding heart leapt into her throat. Still, she stayed silent, words eluding her.
“I didn’t tell you about the APB because I didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry.”
She placed her free hand on his wrist, staring deeply into those chocolate brown eyes, finally finding her voice. “I care about you, too.”
He smiled, dipping his head again for another kiss, this one less sweet and more carnal. When he lifted his head, she licked her lips, still tasting him on her tongue.
“Come on, I think we need something a bit stronger than water now.”
He led her into the kitchen and sat her at the table. Kayla dropped the paper—with her face and “wanted for murder” written all over it—on the table.
He handed her a glass of dark liquid. She sniffed, the smell burning her nostrils, and took a small sip.
Oh, gaw! What the heck is this stuff, motor oil? Her throat burned like fire. Whatever he gave her tasted awful.
“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “All I have is whiskey.”
Whiskey? Blech! She was more a vodka girl. Martini with olives was how she rolled. This stuff tasted like paint stripper.
“How about a little cola to go in that?”
She nodded, pushing her glass toward him. Ryder grabbed it and went to the fridge to retrieve the soda.
“What does this APB mean for me?” she asked. “What’s the plan?”
He set her drink on the counter, popping the top off the can, and filling the rest of the glass with the fizzy beverage.
“Nothing, it means nothing. No one else saw this, so no one knows. You’re still safe here, Kayla.”
Love on the Risky Side Page 13
