Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
I’d toyed with the idea of breaking the news to him today. But I still didn’t know if I should. What if he didn’t want anything to do with this? The thought was unbearable.
“Look, Ryland…” I paused. “I want to talk about that guy you have following me everywhere.”
He closed his eyes and sank back against the couch. He didn’t even have the energy to fight, which was so unlike him.
“Just humor me, baby girl,” he pleaded. “What does it hurt? He’s there to protect you.”
He didn’t get it, and he never would. I had my father to thank for that.
“I just don’t like that he’s reporting everything I do back to you,” I said.
Ryland opened his eyes and stared at me, unmoving. “Why?” he asked. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, fighting the urge to look down. I’d worn a baggy sweatshirt, so there was no way he could see.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean is there another man I need to know about?”
His expression was so tense that I couldn’t help it. I reached out and smoothed my hand along his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.
“Brighton.”
His voice was hoarse, and it sent my pulse skyrocketing. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But I leaned forward and kissed him. Again.
I wanted to slap myself.
My lips had barely brushed against his when he tugged me onto his lap. My blood heated at the feeling of his hard body beneath me. God, I missed this. I’d been having withdrawals since the last time I’d seen him, and now it was becoming harder and harder to refuse.
I just needed to feel him, just one more time. That’s what I told myself as I reached down and tugged on his zipper. His hands were everywhere, inching up my skirt, stroking my thighs. I was deliriously high from the effect he had on me.
“God, I miss you so much.” He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled, rocking his erection against my palm. “It hurts, baby.”
He was painfully swollen, and I needed him inside of me. I tugged my panties aside and pushed myself down onto him. He moaned and jerked beneath me, his fingers tightening their grips on my thighs. It was painful and possessive, and I missed that too.
But when he tried to tug my shirt off, I had to distract him. So I leaned in and brushed my lips over his throat, alternating between bites and kisses. True to his nature, he loved it.
“Do you feel how hard you make me?” he squeezed my ass in his hands. “You’re mine, Brighton. You’ll never stop being mine. No matter what.”
I didn’t know who he was trying to convince, but I couldn’t acknowledge that statement. He was right. I would always belong to him, heart and soul. He was the only man I ever wanted to give my body to. But what I wanted and what I needed were two different things.
Right now, for this moment, I just needed to put it all out of my mind. So I rocked down against him, enjoying the feeling of being connected to him in this way. My beautifully damaged Ryland. My light and my darkness.
Tears fell down my cheeks, and he kissed them away. He told me how much he needed me. How he’d do anything to make it up to me. And I cried harder. I cried for the loss of him. For the loss of this. I didn’t know how I was going to survive without it.
And when I combusted around him, I cried because it was all over. He followed soon after, but he didn’t pull out. He just wrapped his arms around me like a vice, crushing me against his chest. I knew he wanted to say something. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. He thought that would make a difference.
“Come home with me,” he whispered against me. “Come home to our bed and let me take care of you.”
Oh, God. I did not think this through. I pulled away from him, despite his resistance, and adjusted my clothes.
“I can’t, Ryland.”
“You can,” he insisted.
I had to tear my eyes away from him. I couldn’t bear to see the hope that lived there. I was an awful human being. I hated myself right then.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized weakly. “I have to go.”
“Brighton…” He tried to stand, but I bolted out the door before he could even get his pants zipped.
I made it to the elevator and pressed the close button repeatedly until the doors started to slide shut. Just before they did, I saw him round the corner, looking like he’d just lost me forever.
And I guess, in a way he had.