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Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she lifted onto her toes, wrapped her arms about Ryder’s neck. And then easy as you please her mouth met his. Hot, wet, open, lush.
His tongue met hers, and she turned to liquid, melting against him as if she wanted to vanish right on inside. And with a groan he lifted a hand to the back of her head, the other gripping her backside, leaving her in no doubt just how much he wanted this. And the warmth inside soon spun into a crazy heat.
She tugged his top over his head, all but growling at the sight of him. Rippling, hot, golden, even in shadow. No wonder she’d been so bent out of shape all week. How could she function on a normal level, when there was this to be had?
Her nails scraped through those tight curls of hair covering his chest and he sucked in a breath between his teeth, and grabbed her by the wrists.
She shot him a look through the darkness. Really?
And with a flicker of the muscle in his cheek, he eased his grip. Shuddering deliciously as she continued her exploration. All that heat. All that strength. She kissed her way across his chest, the salty taste of him turning her thoughts into a faint grey haze.
She felt him bunch beneath her touch before the groan tore from his mouth. And then his hands were on her shoulders, clever thumbs pulling her shirt away giving his mouth better access to her neck, his tongue tracing her collarbone, his teeth nipping the swell of her breasts. And when her collar slipped another inch and his mouth found her nipple, at the curl of his hot tongue she began to tremble.
Nadia dragged her fingers through his hair and held on tight as Ryder proved himself greedy, taking her mouth, taking everything he wanted, leaving her weak, loose, nothing but impulse, and sensation. With no thoughts to cling to except a dull buzz inside her head.
It buzzed again, and through the haze Nadia realised it was the trill of a phone chirruping through the heavy air.
When Ryder pulled away Nadia went with him, following his lips with hers. Not done yet. Not even close.
When she came up with nothing but air, her eyes flickered open to find his: dark, tortured. The want she saw there, the reckless desire, teetering on the very edge of control and chaos, scared her. Scared and thrilled her. Because it exactly mirrored her own.
But instead of throwing her to the floor and having his way with her, he said, “I have to get that.”
That? Oh, the phone.
“It’s nearly eleven at night,” she said, her voice ragged, her fingers tugging at the beltline of his track pants. “You really don’t.”
“It’s nearly eleven at night. I really do.”
He unhooked her hands, gave them back to her, then turned his back and answered his phone. Leaving Nadia to wrap her arms about herself to control the suddenly very cold shivers wracking her.
Ryder murmured into the phone so that Nadia couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then he hung up, and grabbed his things, turning to her only when he had everything in hand. “I have to go.”
Nadia breathed out long and slow, slowing her heart, tempering the mortifying disbelief that this was happening again from ratcheting up to cyclonic levels inside her.
Then he dumped his things and swore effectively as he came to her, taking her by the arms and bending his head so that he was eye level, which was really the only reason she didn’t boot him out of the flippin’ door and demand he stay the hell away from her.
“Meet me,” he said, command kindling at the edges of his voice. “Continue this. Tomorrow.”
Not sticking a high heel in his ass was one thing, but asking for more? Not on your sweet life, chump. “I’m busy.”
“All day?”
“Yep. Right this second, though? Not so much.”
And there it was. If he wanted her, he could have her. Right there, right now. But not at his beck and call.
She’d been there, dancing to someone else’s tune. And the fact that it wasn’t a man who’d used her affections against her, who’d let her dangle, kept her at a distance even when they’d lived in the same city, danced in the same company, didn’t mean it hadn’t left a mean scar.
Ryder’s jaw clenched, and he looked as if he wanted to shake her, or kiss her, or toss her over his shoulder and spank her. In the end he did none of the above; he rolled his eyes to the exposed beams he was so in love with, and left, muttering under his breath something about women being the death of him.
“Dammit!” Nadia cried out once he’d gone, shaking out her hands and pacing and kicking things.
If it wasn’t so late she’d be on the phone to her boss telling her to find someone else to look after Ryder Bloody Fitzgerald. She’d absolutely do it in the morning. First thing. Before her feet even hit her cruddy apartment floor.
