At the Edge (10 page)

“Please.” She tugged at his jeans. God, why was he still wearing them? She needed them off,
now
, but he was touching her, making her forget everything except the hot friction of his fingers, and she arched against him, clutching his shoulders as he found that perfect spot.

“
Ryan.
”

She exploded. Stars burst behind her eyelids as she pressed against him and her body quaked and burned. He held her through it, murmuring against her ear and soothing her with his touch as her body reeled.

Finally, the tremors subsided and she went lax.

She blinked up at him, dazed. His eyes glittered down at her. He slid his arms under her body and hauled her into his lap, and then she was straddling him. She felt limp, boneless. She rested her forehead against his shoulder and stared down at his beautifully sculpted chest. A sheen of sweat covered him, and she buried her face against his neck and kissed him. His skin tasted salty and delicious and she kissed it again.

———

She ground her hips against him, and every cell in his body caught fire. She popped the snap of his jeans, and he took her wrist.

“Emma, honey—”

“What?”

Her hand slid beneath his waistband, and every thought emptied from his mind as she stroked him. She licked his neck under his ear, and he jerked his head back.

“Emma. Wait.”

But her sweet hand kept moving, and her tongue was hot against his skin.

“I love your body,” she whispered, and he clasped her slender wrist. But he didn't mean it. Not really. If he'd wanted her to stop, he'd have gotten out of here a long time ago, before she started making those breathy little noises that drove him wild. He wanted much more than her hand in his jeans. He wanted her underneath him, begging him.

He kissed her neck, her jaw, the soft spot just beneath her collarbone. He inhaled her deeply, and she smelled so good he couldn't get enough of her. She shifted on his lap, rubbing herself against him as her sweet breasts pressed against his chest. He cupped one in his palm and stroked that perfect pink nipple under his thumb.

He kissed her and rolled her onto her back, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back in silent invitation. She didn't have to tell him. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. How to please this woman was somehow written into his DNA, and he felt a hot rush of joy because he knew he could make her come for him again.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, and it was fucking heaven.

Almost.

“Ryan, please.”

Her fingers were on his zipper, and she was pulling at his jeans. He gently pushed her hands away and slid down her body, kissing her, and everything about her was so fucking amazing he never wanted to stop. And the little sounds she was making told him she didn't want him to stop, either.

“Ryan,” she squeaked. “Oh my God,
Ryan
!”

———

It was happening again. It couldn't be. But the world around her grew dim, and the only thing she could feel was the electrifying heat of his mouth against her. She clutched his shoulders, lifting her hips while at the same time she fought against him.

She wanted all of him. She wanted him deep inside her, where he could pound away this relentless ache and shatter it into a million pieces. But he was moving too fast, kissing her and touching her, and she felt the heat building unbearably until she couldn't take another second.

She screamed his name and broke apart again.

Tremors shook her for seconds, or minutes, until her limbs seemed to melt. She dropped her head back against the cushion as he kissed his way up her body. She blinked up at him, dazed once more. Those green eyes glinted down at her, and she slid her hand to his zipper, but he clasped her wrist.

“Don't.”

She gazed up at him, still breathless from everything he'd just done. But now she felt confused, too. “But what about you?”

“I'm good.”

She smiled and traced her fingers over the huge bulge in his jeans. “I don't think so.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and sat up, pulling her legs into his lap.

A chill swept over her. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him. “You're good,” she repeated. Like she'd offered him a cup of coffee he didn't want.

She looked down at herself. She was sprawled across him naked, every inch of her body flushed and tingling. And with the exception of the T-shirt she'd yanked off him, he was still dressed, right down to his damn boots.

Heat flooded her cheeks as understanding dawned. That was really it. He was finished. She pulled her legs off his lap and grabbed her sweatshirt. “I can't believe you.”

He watched her as she wrestled the sweatshirt over her head. She snatched her shorts off the floor and stood up.

He tipped his head back against the wall, but he didn't say a word, confirming her fears. A cold, slimy feeling settled in her stomach.

She'd misread everything. He didn't want her, not really. That raging hard-on she'd felt was just the natural result of having a moaning, writhing female under him. He didn't really
want
her.

He sat forward, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Emma—”

“Don't.”

She snatched her bra off the back of the sofa and looked around, turning away from him because she didn't want him to see the mortification on her face. Damn it, where were the rest of her clothes?

She spotted a scrap of white lace on the floor beside his boot. He sighed, then scooped up her panties and held them out to her.

She grabbed them and stalked away.

THIRTEEN

R
yan's gaze kept darting to the hallway as he listened to the water running. If she thought she could intimidate him with an angry glare and a slammed door, she was wrong.

He yanked off his boots and propped his feet on the coffee table. He laced his hands behind his head and stared at the TV, doing his best to ignore the frustration simmering inside him. But it wasn't possible.

Finally, she emerged from the hallway, fully dressed again and looking perfectly calm. She clattered around in the kitchen for a few minutes before coming to join him on the couch with the remainder of her milkshake. She wedged herself into the corner and tucked her legs up under her.

Ryan was impressed. She'd seemed pretty embarrassed, and he'd half expected her to hole up in the bedroom for the rest of the night. But maybe Kyle's little sex den freaked her out.

“What's on?” she asked, sliding the spoon into her mouth.

“I don't know.” He hadn't even noticed. “Looks like Dodgers versus Diamondbacks, Chase Field.”

They watched in silence for a few minutes as the D-backs hit a double.

“You gonna share that?”

She slid a look at him. “Get your own.”

He watched her stir the shake, gauging her mood. He nudged her hip with his foot.

“Don't touch me.”

Ryan sighed. He reached over and clamped his hand around her ankle and dragged her across the sofa.

“Hey!”

He pinned her under him and took the cup out of her hand, resting it on the table as she bucked beneath him. He kissed her. She tasted cold and chocolatey, and after a few long moments, she stopped resisting.

When he finally pulled away, she blinked up at him. The tears glistening in her eyes put a sharp pang in his chest.

Damn it, he'd fucked this up.

He rolled off her onto his side and rested his palm on her stomach so he could catch her if she tried to leave.

“Why did you do it?” she asked.

He brushed a curl off her forehead. “Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

He stroked his hand through her soft hair, fanning it back on the cushion. It was something he'd been yearning to do, dying to do, since he'd first met her. “Did it feel good?”

She rolled her eyes and punched his chest, which he took as a yes.

“Do you feel relaxed?”

She huffed out a breath. “I did, but now I feel wired. And pissed at you. And I have to get up in the morning and deal with reality, and it would have been a lot easier if you'd just dropped me off at my hotel.”

“Not for me.”

She rolled away from him to face the TV, even though he knew she couldn't care less about the game. He propped himself up on his elbow and pulled her back snugly against his chest.

They watched another play. And then she reached back and clamped her hand over his rock-hard dick.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I don't understand you.”

He kissed her forehead. Then he took her hand and tucked it safely in front of her. “I know.”

———

His mistake was falling asleep.

Awake, he had control. Discipline. He was trained to endure the most brutal conditions. But asleep, his body knew what it wanted, and it wanted Emma.

He woke up in the dark of Kyle's apartment with Emma's breast in his hand and her nipple hardening under his stroking fingers. With a soft moan, she rolled toward him, nestling her head under his chin. She pressed a warm kiss against his chest, and her hand traced a featherlight path down his body to his jeans. He caught her wrist and kissed the top of her head. But when his hand moved to her breast again, her warm fingers dipped into his jeans and curled around him, and every nerve in his body snapped awake.

She was watching him, her brown-black eyes luminous in the darkness as her hand stroked over him. She shifted closer and kissed him, and he heard the rasp of his zipper as she freed him from his jeans. She shifted her weight until she was straddling his lap, then lifted the sweatshirt over her head, and she was naked, completely, and he knew she'd planned this while he'd been asleep. He also knew he was a goner. No matter how much self-control he thought he had, no matter how much discipline, he was no match for this woman.

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.