My lips find his, testing, teasing, barely touching. Our breathing comes faster, harder as I pull him down, our foreheads pressed together as we stare into each other’s eyes. “Please . . . I just . . . Just once more. That’s all I need.”
I think . . . hope.
With hunger demolishing all traces of restraint from his gaze, Ryder buries his hands in my wavy curls and looks at me a beat before capturing my lips in a slow, passionate kiss. I sigh into his mouth, my senses drowning in his familiar flavor as I fall in step with his calculated strokes. On a deep groan, he draws me closer, his tongue dipping in and out, out and in. Still, nothing about his touch is rough, yet everything in it screams that he needs me in this moment.
In this wicked space and time of his life.
Every lick and nip is a soft caress, like he’s trying to burn the sensation of my lips into his memory. My pulse hammers in staccato mode as I melt the full weight of my body into his. With my blood swimming through my veins, and sinking further into everything that is Ryder, I feel the emptiness of his soul slice through me. A dull ache pinches my heart, spreading its misery through my muscles as he cups my cheeks and deepens the kiss with a gentleness I never knew he possessed. My breath catches, wiped from my lungs as he glides his lips along my jaw, down the base of my throat. The cadence of his exotic growl slips through my ears, dizzying my head in the sweetest way.
“Christ, I fucking want you so bad,” Ryder whispers hoarsely. He drags his lips back to mine, his kiss urgent, greedy. However, he brings it down a notch, his movements revisiting slow, sensual, worshipping this moment for everything it is. Worshipping me for all I am. “So badly, peach. More than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone. You drive me crazy. Your smell, skin, eyes.” He sucks my lip between his teeth, a groan punching from his chest as he runs his fingertips along my bare arms.
Goose bumps pop, deliciously pricking my skin as I tighten my grip in his hair.
“Your little giggles, pouts, personality. Every single fucked-up scar you own in and out. All of it. All of you.” He licks into my mouth, his tongue exploring mine with precision as his hands find my nape, their hold possessive. “Fuck. It should’ve been me. Not him. Me.”
And just like that, our moral compasses spring due north, Brock the center of its attention—our attention. We slowly break the kiss, our breathing choppy from the loss.
Gaze locked on Ryder’s, I shake my head as I fight back tears. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper nervously, shame, remorse, regret, and embarrassment sinking their razor-sharp fangs into my heart. I step back, but Ryder snags my elbow, gently pulling me into his chest. “No, Ryder.”
“Don’t ‘no’ me, Amber,” he says, his soft voice bordering disciplinary as he sweeps a wayward piece of hair away from my cheek.
I stare into his eyes, their light blue intensity shocking my system, disrupting every mortified thought.
“No one’s guiltier than the other here. We got caught up in everything. That’s it. Don’t get all fucked up on me.” A lazy grin surfaces on his lips as he moves another piece of hair off my shoulder. “You’re already fucked up enough. I know my kiss has those panties needing a thorough washin’, but I don’t need your last bit of sanity hanging on my conscience. It was the moment—that’s all. You hear me?”
“Ryder,” Casey croaks from behind us.
We both spin, the hairs on my neck awakening with fear that she might’ve witnessed what happened between us.
Ryder’s face sparks with anxiety, but he masks it with a cool smile. “You ready, kiddo?” He crouches down next to her, touching his knuckles to her temple. “I just need to grab my keys, okay?”
She shakes her head, a frown dragging across her lips. “No. I don’t feel good anymore. My tummy hurts, and I’m getting tired.” She tangles her arms around his neck, resting her pale cheek against his shoulder. “I threw up in the bathroom. Can we just go tomorrow, please?”
I push my hands through my hair, my stomach bottoming out. While I was seducing her brother into kissing me, she was in the bathroom, puking. On nervous legs I move across the kitchen and kneel next to her, seconds away from losing my own lunch. Inwardly praying for her forgiveness, I place my hand on her back. She gives me a weak smile, her dusty blue eyes glassing over with unchecked tears.
“Yeah. Of course we can, Case,” Ryder says, his voice grave as he lifts her into his arms. She wraps her tiny legs around his waist, her cheek still cushioned against his shoulder as he carries her down the hallway and into a bedroom. Deafening silence swirls around me as I slump onto the couch and squeeze my eyes shut, every ounce of my being convinced I’m the devil’s spawn.
Seconds?
Minutes?
Hours?
Feeling detached from my body, I’m not sure how much time passes before Ryder emerges from the bedroom, quietly latching the door.
I stumble to my feet, guilt taking root in my stomach. “Is she okay?”
He nods, his face stressed all over again. “Yeah. She’s all right. I should’ve known better than to expect her to go anywhere after her treatment.”
“It’s all my fault,” I blurt, moving toward the front door. “If I didn’t come by—”
“My sister would’ve never gotten to meet you.” He pulls my hand off the knob.
I shake my head, sure I’m the last person she needed to be introduced to. “She wouldn’t have thrown up.”