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“Fuck the money!” she exclaimed, then all humor drained from her face. “I gotta say, after tonight, I feel the same way.”
Her eyes dropped to his chest, all life draining out of her face.
“Hey,” he said, leaving the rest of her top unbuttoned to rub her arms. “Hey, look at me. Stay with me.”
Her eyes wandered up, blank. Then slowly, as he rubbed her shoulders and back, he saw the life come back along with a sheen of tears.
“Jesus, I can’t get it out of my head,” she murmured.
He pulled her against him, cradling her head into his shoulder. Then he walked them both into the hot spray of the shower, uncaring that they were both still clothed.
“I’m here. You’re going to be okay,” he murmured, and had a fleeting thought of whether what he said was true.
He couldn’t stop his mind from flashing back to Blaze.
Ryder could smell the metal and sulphur of the fired shot when he rushed into the room. Blaze stood near the closet, confused but unharmed. He kept asking, “Dad, why isn’t Scotty waking up?” His young son couldn’t comprehend why his best friend was lying on the ground, thinking the loud noise had knocked him down.
Ryder remembered driving Blaze to his psychiatrist's appointments, and how long it had taken for him to speak again. The incident had aged all of them, but he thanked a higher power that Blaze had reconnected with his innocence.
“It might take a while, but you’ll be able to put tonight into perspective,” he whispered against her ear, hoping he was right. The idea of the vibrant woman in his arms fading away put another weight on his heart.
“I know. I will,” she said, and he heard the forced confidence in her voice.
He lifted her chin, looking into her eyes. Some of the fire had come back.
“You will, darlin’,” he agreed, and he didn’t care that there was a waver in his voice.
He felt her hands slide up his arms, her eyes darkening with some emotion.
“What about you? You feel cold,” she said, and before he could reply, she stood on tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.
He slid his hands into her hair, cradling her head. He wanted to melt into her, to somehow infuse her with his strength.
Keeping their mouths joined, they pulled and tugged the last of their clothes off. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The shower poured over them from the side as her hands ran over his body urgently.
“Love me, Ryder,” she begged against his lips, her breath catching on the last word.
And he did.
Standing beneath the cascading water, he let her shoulders rest against the tiled wall. He pressed his lips against hers slowly, caressing them the way his hands caressed her back, tracing the curve of her spine.
Her fingers slid into his damp hair as she tightened her strong calves against his back, rubbing her hot center against his hardening cock.
“Darlin’,” he murmured, wanting to say more but not able to put the words together. Words he never thought he’d say to a woman.
“Yes,” she moaned, and when the head of his cock slid into her, he moaned as well.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, holding himself away even as her hips rotated and ground into him.
“I don’t care,” she husked.
“You could get pregnant,” he murmured, and as he said the words, the oddest sensation overcame him.
Excitement. Anticipation. What if she got pregnant? What if they made a baby right there?
“I’m due for my period in a few days,” she answered, her hands lowering to his hips to press him into her. “It’s safe.”
“Nothing’s totally safe,” he resisted, feeling a little dizzy at the feelings coursing through him.
