Inwardly, he cursed the person who had shattered a bottle in the grass. When she winced, his gaze shot to her face. She met his concern with a smile. “Let’s say it tickled.”
She’d caught him. Her swirling, gray eyes held him like a thundercloud trapping him on a mountaintop. The electrified air circling him didn’t have the oxygen to keep him level-headed. His hand slid over silk skin as it left her foot and moved up her calf. Her lips parted for a shallow breath.
Her warm breath rushed over his face as his mouth overtook hers. A burning rose from deep in his body. Hot desire pumped through his racing heart. She relaxed into him. Her lips opened further.
She gasped and jerked back. He followed her gaze. Her foot had bumped against the coarseness of his jeans. Nice one, idiot.
He moved the towel to the tub and lowered her foot onto it.
“Sorry.” He pushed off the tub, turned away and scanned the bathroom. “Where’s the first aid kit?” His back to her was the best way to hide how his body ached for hers.
“In that cabinet, underneath the towels.”
He located the remodeled gym locker, pulled down a tin box, and settled it on the counter. “Huh. Not much in here.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned it up toward her.
She sighed. “Yeah, it was low last I checked. Amanda must have finished it off when she scraped herself on the road jumping out of the car.”
He lost focus on the kit—Amanda. There wasn’t much he could do. He’d brooded enough. “This won’t do us any good.” He stared at the waterproof tape in his hand, “without gauze and wrap.”
“Probably not.”
He looked to her. She kept her eyes hooded. The worse thing, but what he wanted the most, was for her to open them a little more and wrap him up, hold out the world. “I better get some.” He’d have to get out of there before he did something really idiotic like letting his hands do what they wanted, rest on her shapely leg. And her narrow neck . . . his lips would fit perfectly at the base where her pulse thrummed under her creamy skin.
At his silence, she added, “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded. “I’ll be right back.” Hopefully with a hard grip on reality.
~ ~ ~
When the front door closed Ryan outside, Rebecca released a breath.
She surveyed the bathroom then studied her foot. Her eyes followed the path his work-roughened hand had taken moments ago. Her heart rate took off. Flesh memories recalled his lips over hers. More areas of her body tightened as her breath went shallow.
With zero distance between them, she’d closed her eyes. Sweet tree sap and engine oil had filled her senses. The stubble on his face had brushed like soft pine needles. Her gaze dropped when she remembered how he’d gotten a handle on his husky voice. He’d brought her back to reality with him, which was best.
He’d also brought out the best in her earlier. In her attempt to reassure him, she’d lost her own hold on anxiety. She always over-worried a situation, but he kept her focused, grasping a firmer hold on logic. She scoffed. Logic wasn't the name she’d give to what had been coursing through her a moment before.
She searched her surroundings, considered the distance to the couch. If only she had her desk chair, she’d simply wheel out of the bathroom. In her study seat she could even think, instead of respond physically to his caresses.
She wrapped the towel around her foot and tucked the corner. Placing her weight on one foot, she stood.
Well, had she planned to hop?
She’d try . . . something. Transferring weight pulled a gasp. She cringed, grasping the edge of the sink counter tightly.
She re-centered her weight on the ball of her injured foot. Okay. She hobbled her way to the couch. Her body had too much open air around it. Without his heat, plus the water in the towel, she shivered. She’d left a book on the side table. She dove into it, hoping to forget her discomfort, sense of loss.
Two minutes spent staring at a single page. The words lacked their normal ability to swallow her attention. His eyes commanded the show. What color had they been last? His lids had hung low, darkening them into the densest foliage of green.
Her eyes moved above the book and fell on Amanda’s clock. They should plan for tomorrow. But how? She hadn’t been kidding when she said the clues were thin.
But his arms weren’t.
The hardened muscles probably came from lifting hundreds of tires, tightening thousands of bolts, breaking them loose. A woman felt secure enough to relax in them.
Secure enough to leave behind her sturdy foundation of school? Rebecca’s future would be school. Yes, she’d been right to remove herself from the bathroom. Her head had cleared, had returned to homework and reading. But it wouldn’t hurt to research other fields. Her face heated up at the thought of a closer inspection of Ryan’s chest. She could study the sensations of gliding her hands over it.
A key clicked in the lock. She jumped.
Amanda.
Ryan stepped inside, a paper bag in one arm. Oh yes, he had her keys.
He scowled at her as he closed the door. “You shouldn’t be walking on that.”
“Who said I did?”
He raised his brow.
A smile strayed to her lips under his inquisitive expression.
His mouth quirked up in one corner and set her heart to hammering. He shook his head as he brought the bag to the coffee table. Seated next to the bag on the coffee table, he lifted her foot. It rested on his thigh, which felt firm under her heel.
His head dipped forward as he un-wrapped the towel. She’d witnessed his hands pulling through his thick, brown hair a dozen times. Wasn’t it her turn?
He grunted. “You didn’t walk on it, huh?”
She spotted blood on the towel. “I didn’t say I didn’t hobble on the balls of my feet.”
His lips didn’t quirk.
“Oh please. If it’d been a cut on my arm, you wouldn’t be making nearly as big a deal about it.”
He gazed at her from under furrowed eyebrows. “You think so?”
Challenged by his hooded look, she held her tongue and breath.
He returned to her foot and, after applying ointment, wrapped it up. At the tenderness in his touch, her heart caught in her throat.
She forced coherent words through her lips. “You seem experienced at this.”
He shrugged. “You get your fair share of gashes in automotive. If it gets bad, super glue can usually do the trick. It’s not good to bleed on customers’ cars.” He smiled.
She lifted a shoulder. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”
He lowered her foot to the floor. Her heart leapt as his smile turned mischievous. “Where can I carry you next?”
“The kitchen?”
“If I recall, there’s not enough room in there for both of us.”
She felt heat bloom on her cheeks as her pulse accelerated.
“What are you hungry for?”
You. “Umm,” She pursed her lips, safely damming her impulsive thoughts before they became something else and expertly avoided his gaze.
He leaned forward and captured them with his firm mouth. His hand cupped her face. She sighed when he stopped the kiss, continued to hold her. He stroked his thumb along her cheek.
“I couldn’t pass up the invitation.” His voice sounded husky.
Her stomach flip-flopped, unsettled, as she met the directness in his green, hazel eyes. Brain, where are you?
Obviously, based on lack of answer, it’d taken some time off. His hand stayed, question in his eyes. She saw two paths from this moment. But then his other hand came up and framed her face.
Her heart fluttered. She met him a quarter of the way. Sensitive fle
sh molded, caressed. His lips left hers to burn a trail down her neck. She held back a tremulous moan. Without breaking contact, he settled on the couch, cornering her against the armrest.
His hand dropped from her face to her shoulder. The other cradled the back of her head. Heat flooded her face and she gulped.
A gasp interrupted as he found her breast, thumbing the side of it. Her pulse grew insistent. Attention stole to her lower core. And with shallow breath, her hands broke free of inaction. One hand tangled in his thick hair, pulled his head closer. The other climbed past his narrow hip and slipped under his shirt. He sucked in a breath as she headed north along the rolling hills of his abs.
He broke the kiss. They both raced for breath. Slowly opening her eyes, she met his steady gaze. Hands stilled.
“Rebecca?” His heart hammered under the hand she kept on his chest.
She followed his glance down and became informed of his body’s intent. “Can I change my mind?” She returned her focus to the molten jade swirling in his gaze.
He nodded. She spotted the slight dip in his posture.
“Will you carry me to the bedroom instead?” Her heart vaulted in near panic, and lungs took less air.
His lips curved and neared hers. She pressed against them, arm draping around the back of his neck.
He moved to pick her up but hesitated. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after tonight.”
Considering his words, desire stole capacity to filter her own. “Then this could be our last chance.” Ignoring the distant warning chimes cutting through a lustful fog in her mind, she pushed against the couch. He lifted her with ease.
When they entered the bedroom, he groaned.
She checked her room, trying to fathom what he saw. She smiled. Yes, the twin bed appeared inadequate.
He placed her down on it and she watched him reveal the familiar lean torso. At the side of the bed, he kneeled. The heat of his eyes skimmed the length of her body. He took her parted mouth only to leave again. She chewed at her bottom lip as his hands took the expanse of her waist. He slid her shirt up, and her bare skin chilled in insecurity. She got over that as soon as the shirt passed her bra. She lifted her head for him to discard the cloth. Her heart raced. Her breath held. She needed warmth, touching. He must have sensed it, because he recaptured her mouth, one hand held her waist as the other snaked beneath and unclasped her bra. When his hand held her bare breast, she moaned, and he answered back.
She squirmed again, heat increasing below and deep inside. She tried to pull him up. He shook his head and grabbed the blankets beneath her, lifting her again. The blankets slid out with her.
He deposited her on the floor atop them. She had no chance to feel cold. Heated, green eyes roamed over her body. Her gaze drifted to the bulge now above her. The temperature increased between her legs, bringing along extra sensitivity as she watched him stand and remove the last of his clothes. Callused fingers sheathed his member, and she couldn’t help but academically marvel how it stood straight out. He returned to her side and paused at her pants button until she arched her back and heard herself say, “Too slow.”
He dragged her pants and underwear down and off. Moistness like sweat cooled between her legs. Slowly, his body covered hers as she lay on the blanket’s thin padding.
“Rebecca, have you . . .?”
“Books had always taken priority.”
“And now?”
She couldn’t have expected how dark his eyes could become. “I can make an exception.”
He groaned then dropped his head to take her mouth as his lower extension pressed against her aching vaginal folds. His tongue ran along her lower lip, and she let it enter, moaning and arching her back as his tongue grew more insistent at getting her to respond. He took that moment to thrust deep inside her.
She gasped and her hands dug into his back.
He held still inside her. She whimpered, and his tongue encircled hers as one work-roughened hand encompassed the sensitive curve of her hip, gliding softly. He released her mouth. “Is it okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
She closed her eyes as he pulled out then took her once more. She chewed at her lower lip. Opening her eyes, she watched as he searched them. His arms were taut on either side of her head. With her breathing heavy and her heart pounding, he thrust, sliding deep into her. A rhythm followed her pulse. Her body answered.
Thighs clutched against legs. She met each penetrating effort, stiffening around him. The tension met its peak. No, it kept building. She moaned and rocked her hips against him. Then her inner muscles took their final grip, squeezing a groan from him. He slid in and out, a final thrust before his back arched, and a rocketing release came upon her at the same time.
With a breath, he collapsed onto his side then curled her up against him.
The remaining sheet from the bed became their only covering as they shared heat under the soft shell. She sighed, relaxing into him, easing into darkness, cutting off reason before it started its outraged questions.
Chapter 12
As Rebecca sighed into sleep, Ryan wrapped her into his body. He closed his eyes, welcoming the brush of her hair and breathed in her hint of wild raspberry.
His lips pressed together as he applauded himself. He couldn’t have done a better job of complicating things.
She possessed a power over him. Those first kisses had scalded. His body couldn’t do anything less but react.
But still he held her, the woman who seemed to balance him. Her careful words, in her assured and honeyed voice, had settled his scattered preoccupations. When she took him inside, she’d collected his parts and completed him.
That’s great, a mental voice scorned. And how are you helping Amanda?
He clenched his eyes shut. Amanda. After what he’d done to start this, he had no choice but to finish it.
Rebecca stirred in his arms. Whatever he did now, she was a part of it.
She turned to look at him, gray eyes soft in the bedroom lighting, warm.
He brushed his lips across hers.
She closed her eyes and smiled. “I could use a shower.”
He lifted his head. “Your foot.”
Her eyes opened. His breath snagged at the darkening clouds in her irises. She was ready for him again. “Hey, a shower cap can work equally well on a foot.”
How about joining you? No, he fired back. There was already too much happening, too fast. Holding his tongue, he nodded.
She looked uneasy.
“Someone needs to keep the floor warm,” he offered.
She smiled, gathered up some clothes then headed out the bedroom door. He heard the fan switch on in the bathroom, the flow of water. The corner of his mouth curved. He’d become familiar with the curves over which the water sluiced.
Now the carpeted floor seemed vast and coarse, devoid of its previous softness.
Her pliable body came with a tightly muscled mind. Would there be regret? She shouldn’t have any, deserved not to have any.
He woke with a start. The bathroom door had unlatched. How long had he been out? She entered the bedroom clothed only in an extra-large t-shirt. After setting something on the bedside table, she chewed at her lower lip. He lifted the sheet as invitation.
She smiled and then dropped down, tucked herself against him. He pulled her close and buried his face in her damp hair. The shampoo had sweetened her smell—strawberries. He wasn’t so sure if he liked it as much.
She sighed. Soon after, her soft breaths turned rhythmic. He followed, finally settled and complete.
Something vibrated on the dresser. He opened an eye as she spoke. “Oh, great.”
She reached and pulled down her phone from where she’d placed it on the table beside her bed. Looking at the li
ghted screen, she sighed. “I guess Academia never sleeps, especially before finals week.”
She left his embrace, answered the phone. “Yeah?”
Standing, she started to pace and combed fingers through her wet hair. Her long, smooth legs hypnotized him. His body tightened. He shifted, sat up, arms draped over blanket-covered knees.
“You know, I’ve had a very exhausting night and . . .” She dropped her arm and met his gaze. The silver in her eyes turned grainy. “All right, I’ll call you back in five.”
She disconnected, immediately began slipping into her pants. A hesitant glance came his way. “Umm . . .” She laughed, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. They stayed weary.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
She shrugged. “I can probably take care of this over the phone. I’ll let you know.”
She left the room, closed the door. Light seeped through the base of it. He heard, “Hello. What’s so dire?”
He came to his feet and collected his pants.
“Which section? No. No, that’s not right. You need to—look, I’m coming over.”
He pulled on his shirt but paused midway through. Click. Click.
The sound stopped as the front door opened. He yanked his shirt down and opened the bedroom door.
With a backpack slung over her shoulder, Rebecca stood at the front door, wide-eyed, watching him. He, in turn, glanced down and found one foot in bandages. She wore high heels. To keep pressure off her cut, he assumed.
He returned to her eyes. The gray sparkled too much. She said, “Please understand.”
He nodded.
She moved toward him but then stepped back, turned to the door. “Good-bye, Ryan.” It closed softly behind her.
The clicking started up again on the cement steps. She hadn’t even said where she was going.
His hand passed through his hair. Now what? He paced beside the front window, couldn’t help but peer through the blinds after her. Immediately, every muscle in him coiled, desperate to spring at the sight. Amanda!
A Running Heart Page 12
