She planted her palm on his shoulder and leaned forward, and he filled his hands with her breasts as the warm, womanly scent of her surrounded him in an erotic haze. She leaned over him in the dark and kissed him.
“Ryan.” Her breath was hot against the side of his neck. “Please.”
———
Emma held her breath, waiting. For an endless moment, he didn’t move.
He sat up and kissed her, and there was nothing tentative about it as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her beneath him. She felt a rush of giddiness and nerves as the hard length of him pressed between her thighs.
He hadn’t been asleep, not completely. He’d been thinking about her, wanting her, the same way she’d been lying there in the dark and thinking about him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed her hungrily. There was something different now, something rough and raw, and she knew this was her chance. She’d flat-out beg him if she had to, but she wouldn’t let him reject her this time.
She pushed his jeans down his hips, and he helped her, shucking his clothes with lightning speed, until there was nothing between them.
He propped his weight on his arms and kissed her as she wrapped her legs around him and glided her hands over his strong back. She loved his shoulders, his arms, the deep ridge down his spine. She loved everything about him, and she wanted him so much she ached from it.
He eased down her body, sliding kisses over her skin until he reached her breasts, and the hot pull of his mouth sent a jolt of lust through her. She tried to shimmy down to line up their bodies, but he held her in place.
“Ryan.”
He ignored her and lingered over her breasts, kissing and teasing her. She reached over and groped for the condom she’d placed on the coffee table after he’d fallen asleep. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her, and the dark glint in his eyes gave her a shiver of anticipation as he tore open the condom and quickly covered himself. Nerves flitted in her stomach as he shifted over her and pressed her legs apart with his thighs. He was so big, so beautiful. She’d dreamed about this since that first night together in the jungle, but the reality felt awkward.
“Hold on to me,” he said, and she slid her fingers around his neck and held her breath. “I’ve got you.”
He shifted her hips and pushed into her, not gently but hard. She gasped at the pain. And the thrill of it, too, but it was mostly pain. She clutched his shoulders and moved under him, and a little squeak escaped.
He tensed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said, knowing it was a lie and that everything about this was going to hurt. But she wanted him anyway, so much she burned with it.
He eased back and sank into her again, deeper this time, and she shifted to take him completely. For a moment, he went still, his body rigid as stone.
But then he started moving, a slow, tantalizing cadence that somehow made everything better and worse at the same time. The feel of him inside her was a shock, a milestone event that felt like it could change her forever. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and the utter concentration on his face made her heart squeeze. They fit together. Perfectly. But as their bodies moved, she felt a swelling sense of need, a yearning for something way out of reach. He moved faster and faster, and she strove to keep up with him.
His shoulders were tense under her hands, and she could tell he was keeping his weight off her. Even with all that power thrusting into her, she could tell he was holding back, trying not to hurt her. Like back in the rain forest, he was intent on protecting her. But she didn’t want to be protected. She wanted him, everything.
“More.” She gasped, digging her fingernails into his skin.
His muscles bunched beneath her hands as he pounded into her again and again, and she started to feel dizzy with need and clenched herself around him. Everything she wanted was so close, just a breath away.
“Oh, yes.” She clutched him tighter. “Ryan, please.”
The next thrust was harder, fiercer, and she felt the full force of his body as she clung to his slick shoulders. She held on to him desperately as they moved together and the world started to blur.
“Tell me when.” He touched his forehead to hers, and she felt the sweat on his brow.
“Ryan.”
She exploded—a bright burst of stars and light and shimmering pleasure. She clamped down on him with everything she had, and he drove himself into her again until finally his shoulders sagged and he collapsed against her.
She lay under him, crushed by the weight of him and the magnitude of what they’d done.
She hadn’t known.
Her heart thundered. Her entire body tingled, down to the very last nerve. All her life, she’d had no idea such pleasure was out there. She felt dazed by the revelation.
He pushed up and stared down at her in the darkness, and she tried to read his expression. She was breathing hard. They both were. But they didn’t talk as he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side. She shifted back against the sofa cushions to make room for him, but he got up and disappeared into the hallway.
Emma lay there on her side, her heart drumming inside her chest as she listened to the water run. Was he stalling? Doubts flooded her. She’d caught him off guard. She’d waited until his defenses were down and taken what she wanted, and he’d definitely been with her in the moment, but now he was having regrets. She closed her eyes, and a ball of dread formed in her stomach as she waited.
She found her sweatshirt on the ground and pulled it on, then turned onto her side facing the cushions and pretended to be asleep. A few moments later, she felt him standing beside the sofa, looming over her, although she hadn’t heard a single footstep. One of his SEAL tricks, probably, sneaking up on people in the dark.
He sank down onto the couch but didn’t stretch out beside her, and her heart sank.
“Emma?”
Regret. Apology. She could hear it in his voice. She squeezed her eyes tighter and pretended not to hear.
He stroked her arm and took her hand. Maybe she was being childish, but she didn’t want to talk about this now. She’d just had the best sex of her life, and she wanted to savor the moment.
The cushions sank as he stretched out next to her and pulled her back against his warm chest. The apartment was silent except for the steady rhythm of his breathing. Seconds stretched into minutes as she lay still beside him.
And then everything started to catch up to her—the frustrating day, the attempt on her life, the police station. She felt drained, exhausted. Her muscles were lax and heavy, too heavy even to move.
Ryan pulled her closer. “I know you’re awake,” he murmured. “You’re a terrible faker.”
She found his hand in the dark and squeezed it, not opening her eyes. “Let’s sleep,” she whispered.
———
Emma woke up alone.
She was groggy, disoriented. But her body felt unusually happy today, like it was thanking her for giving it a sip of water after a long drought. She looked at the sunlight streaming through the bay window and swung her legs off the sofa. She checked the clock in the kitchen. Eight fifteen.
Damn it, she needed to move.
The patio door stood ajar, and she heard Ryan outside talking on the phone as she grabbed her purse off the counter and rushed to the bathroom. She cleaned up quickly and threw on her clothes from yesterday. Her white silk blouse was hopelessly rumpled, and she looked like she’d just stepped off an international flight. But she did some quick makeup and hurried into the kitchen.
She noticed a black cell phone on the counter beside a Dodge key fob with a rental-car tag attached to it.
Ryan stepped inside with a cell phone in his hand. He wore the same clothes as last night, and his feet were bare. His gaze met hers, and a wave of memories crashed over her.
She looked away and cleared her throat. “I take it Jake was here already?”
“You just missed him.” He tucked the phone into his pocket. “He picked up his truck and dropped off a Dodge Charger, along with a couple of burner phones. The car’s parked down the block.”
“Oh.”
She stared at him, and the room fell silent. He stepped closer and leaned his palm on the counter beside her, so close she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. He was trying to intimidate her, and she tried to look unaffected.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“About what?”
He stared down at her, his expression much too serious. “Last night—”
“Don’t say it.” She looked away.
“I will. Look at me.”
She did. She met his gaze and struggled to keep the insecurity out of her expression.
“Everything got out of hand,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You shouldn’t have? I think there were two of us involved.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “I’m here to protect you. Not to . . . do what I did.”
“What we did?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You’re the one in a vulnerable situation. You turned to me for help, and I took advantage.”
She scoffed. “No, you didn’t.”
“I know what I did, Emma.”
She ducked around him and walked to the other side of the kitchen, struggling to get her emotions under control.
Anger. She definitely felt anger. But she felt hurt, too, and that was the part that threatened to spill over in the form of tears right now. I’m here to protect you. He considered her a mission, the same as he had in the Philippines. Her entire world had been turned upside-down by the time they’d spent together, and yet in his mind she was still a tactical objective.
She closed her eyes and counted to three mentally. When she’d locked her emotions away, she turned around.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked.
“What?” He seemed startled by the change of subject.
“Just now. Who was on the phone?”
“Your dad.”
She stared at him.
“Hard man to get a hold of. Lot of gatekeepers.”
Emma’s chest squeezed. Little darts of anger zinged through her. “You contacted my father?”
“Somebody had to.”
“No, somebody did not have to.”
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Funny thing, he said he didn’t hear from you last night. Had no idea someone almost managed to kill you.”
“My relationship with my father is none of your business. Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand.”
His gaze darkened. “This isn’t about your relationship, Emma. It’s about protecting you from harm. Your dad’s pretty keen on that, as a matter of fact. He’s coming into town today to see about setting up a security detail for you for the foreseeable future.”
“How could you do this?” she sputtered. “You promised me.”
“I promised to let you handle it. But you didn’t, did you?”
Emma’s vision blurred. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so pissed off. So manipulated.
Did he actually believe Mitchell Wright would fly all the way across the country for this? He hadn’t even bothered to come see her after her plane had been shot down. She’d spent a mere hour with him following Renee’s funeral, and then he’d had to jet off to some fund-raising thing in Seattle.
And Ryan had called him. Behind her back, while she’d been crashed on the sofa in a state of blissed-out slumber. It was an outright betrayal.
White-hot anger filled her. Her throat tightened, and she had to take a deep breath before she could talk.
“He’s not coming,” she told Ryan.
“He said he was.”
“He’s sending one of his people, trust me.”
“That’s not what he said.”
She rolled her eyes. “Believe whatever you want. I don’t have time to explain my father to you. I have to be in Los Angeles in two hours.”
Ryan’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”
“I’m meeting with Special Agent Alexa Mays at ten thirty. She’s on the task force investigating the plane crash, and I’ve been trying to get this meeting for a full week. She has a hard stop at eleven o’clock, so I can’t be late.”
“Fine, I’ll take you.” Ryan glanced at the clock. “Just give me ten minutes to shower.”
She gritted her teeth. She was fed up. She was sick of being handled and guarded and freaking babysat. But she knew that look in his eye, and it would be pointless to argue. She looked at the clock. “Five minutes.”
He disappeared down the hallway. Emma picked up the cell phone on the counter and powered it on. She fiddled with the buttons until she heard the shower running.
She glanced over her shoulder. She grabbed the car keys and crept to the door.
———
Ryan pulled his shirt over his head and walked into the kitchen, zipping his jeans. He glanced into the living room and stopped cold. He looked at the counter.
“Fuck.”
He dug the phone from his pocket and hit redial as he strode to the patio door and looked out.
“Fuck!”
“Yo,” Jake said.
“She’s gone.” Ryan rushed to the back door, but of course the garage was empty. “Where are you?” he demanded.
“What do you mean, gone?” Jake asked.
“She fucking took off while I was in the shower.”
“You took a shower?”
Ryan jogged down the driveway and shoved through the gate that was already ajar. “Turn around,” he said. “You can’t be that far away. See if you can intercept her.”
“I’m on my way.”
Ryan scanned the sidewalk for a royal-blue Charger. He spotted it parked near the corner in the shade of an oak tree. He halted and looked around.
A lead weight settled in his stomach. Then he broke into a run.
Emma wasn’t in the car. Or near it. He looked up and down the block but only saw an elderly woman walking her Chihuahua and a guy with a garden hose watering his roses.
Ryan tried the car doors. Still locked. His gaze fell on a black key fob tucked up against the curb.
His blood ran cold. He snatched up the car key, which had been sitting on the kitchen counter just minutes ago. Panic gripped him as he looked up and down the street.
“Hey!” He jogged up to the dog-walking lady. “Excuse me, ma’am? I’m looking for a young woman. Wavy brown hair. About this tall—” He held his hand up to his chest. “She’s wearing a gray skirt?”
The woman must have seen the desperation in his eyes because she pulled off her sunglasses. “White blouse?”
“Yes!”
“I saw her just a minute ago.” She looked down the street. “She was with the big guy.”
“Big guy?” Ryan’s world tilted.
“Yes, in a black SUV. They took off.”
Don’t miss the thrilling conclusion of Emma and Ryan’s story in
EDGE OF
SURRENDER
ALPHA CREW, PART 2
Don't miss what happens next in the next At the Edge installment from New York Times bestselling author Laura Griffin!
Edge of Surrender
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author LAURA GRIFFIN started her career in journalism before venturing into the world of romantic suspense. She is a two-time RITA Award winner (for the books Scorched and Whisper of Warning) as well as the recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award (for Untraceable). Laura currently lives
in Austin, where she is working on her next book. Visit her website at LauraGriffin.com and on Facebook at Facebook.com/LauraGriffinAuthor.
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ALSO BY LAURA GRIFFIN
Shadow Fall
Beyond Limits
Far Gone
Exposed
Scorched
Twisted
Unstoppable
Snapped
Unforgivable
Deadly Promises
Unspeakable
Untraceable
Whisper of Warning
Thread of Fear
One Wrong Step
One Last Breath
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
At the Edge Page 11
