All of it did me the fuck in, adding to the petrifying knowledge that no one’s ever felt so good, tasted so sweet, or been so goddamn right for me. The whole thing’s something I know is gonna burn me. Something I’m completely cool with getting burned by. Not only did she accomplish what she set out to do—rid my mind of that fucked-up night—but Amber made me forget all the rest who came before her, memories of my time spent with numerous women vanishing with every soft touch she branded across my skin.
Lips hued ruby red from our frenzied kissing, Amber looks up at me from beneath a fan of thick, dark lashes as she nibbles on her thumbnail.
“Did I scare you?” I keep my voice soft and soothing, trying with everything in me to toss it away from the stalkerish level.
Considering her breathing’s a mess, and she’s staring at me as though I’m a maniac, I’m not quite sure if my attempt to level her out is working. I gather her cheeks between my hands, the silkiness of her flushed skin searing my palms as I study her face. She tenses, another round of panic swelling her beautiful features. My asshole-ometer dings, going off like a siren. Jesus, I can’t tell if she’s nervous because she wants to get the fuck away from me, or if her trembling is the result of my touch, her usual reaction.
Either way, I’m about to test it out, praying it’s the latter.
I drop my hands to her waist, clenching her soft curves, while trying to control my own choppy breathing. This girl has no idea what she does to me. Hell, I don’t think she ever will.
I lower my head and stare into her widened eyes for a beat before brushing my lips over hers. The hairs on my nape jump the second we connect. “Because if I did, I apologize. That wasn’t my intention, peach.”
“No. You didn’t scare me, Ryder. It’s . . . it’s just . . . me,” she whispers, her muscles going lax as I part her lips with my tongue.
I still, hold it there a second, trying to gauge her reaction. She gives me what I want, what’s all too fast becoming an absolute necessity to my sanity.
She whimpers and clutches my forearms, her eager tongue peeking out to seek mine. Dizzy from her touch, taste, and scent, I reciprocate, kissing her deep, ravishing her slowly, the need to take her again thickening my blood as she twines her fingers through my hair. Her exasperated mewls tease my ears, each one of her needy little pants driving me fucking nuts. A groan hurdles from my throat as she claws at my back, whispers my name, and hooks her leg around my waist, the pain fisting my balls worth the torture. I snag her lip between my teeth, every cell in my body getting off on the warmth of my release—easing from her pussy—swathing my hip, her sweet nectar coating a thin sheen of our juices along my flesh as I drown in everything she is.
Just knowing I’m in her, on her, my stamp surrounding every inch of her beautiful body lights me up. Soaring, completely motherfucking high, I rough my hand down the back of her thigh, gripping it, my cock throbbing against the smooth surface of her belly as I lick through the silk of her mouth. She moans, a glorious sound. Though my confession might’ve momentarily made her second-guess her decision to go through with this, Amber’s not running from me. She’s running from her feelings, trying to free herself from the confusing emotions tripping up her head. She loves Brock. This I know. Been aware of it for more than four months. However, I know she feels what I feel, knows what I said is the undeniable truth. Done deal: Amber’s been, is, and will always be mine, the reality behind that fact scaring the fuck outta her.
Still, as she kisses me, her feverish little tugs on my hair, urgent strokes, and hips bucking against mine like a crazed nympho says all this cat needs to know. All that’ll help him sleep like a goddamn baby tonight.
She’s cool, we’re cool. That’s all that fucking matters.
In the same breath, my confession bugged her out a little something and, for this, I can’t help but acknowledge my douchebaggery for making her panic. I’d rather die than fuck up this girl, this unique gem.
No matter how worthy I become of her, I’ll never be worthy enough.
I gotta fix the damage I’ve done, making sure she knows tonight wasn’t just sex for me. That no matter how twisted this scenario gets, I’m in it for the long haul, remaining by her side every tormented second of the way.
I sweep Amber up off the ground, her legs dangling over my forearms, her eyes popping with surprise as she tangles her arms around my neck. A smirk cocks my mouth as I kiss her forehead, reveling in the heavy scent of my cologne, saliva, sweat—hell, my entire body—layering her skin. Not an ounce of her vanilla perfume remains, the sweet fragrance buried beneath one hundred percent pure, raw, unabashed sex.
“C’mon.” I kiss her nose, knowing if I could worship her twenty-four seven, it’d still never be enough. She’s turned me into a fiend, her touch the crack to my goddamn pipe. “I think this gorgeous body needs some insane spoiling.”
“It sure does,” Brock concurs with a grin, slipping from the bed. He saunters across the room and kisses Amber’s pretty bow of a mouth, his grin widening as he drags his lips to her nipple, tugging it between his teeth. She gasps, her hand darting out to playfully swat his shoulder. “Tons of spoiling.”
Sobering, she stares at him a second, a hint of guilt shadowing her features as she cups his cheek. He softens against her touch, the silent exchange between them punching me in the gut as she leans up to kiss him.
With Amber still in my arms, and me feeling out of place—a third wheel observing their undeniable connection from the sidelines—I start for the bathroom, abruptly breaking their nauseating moment of affection. Not giving a single fuck that I have, I gently set Amber down on the edge of the Jacuzzi, trying to kill my jealous thoughts as I swipe a strand of her hair away from her face. I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this setup.