Except Ryder didn't look like he was in a hurry to avenge his sister's honor. Not anymore.
His gaze moved back to hers, his eyes dark with need. Hannah's hand tightened around his arm, nothing more than a reflex from being studied so intently. Yes, she should move. Drop her hand. Step away from him.
Run like hell.
Instead of moving away, she stepped closer. The swell of her breast brushed against his arm, the nipple tightening almost painfully. He shifted, one of his legs moving between hers. Mere inches separated them and it would easy, so easy, to rise up on her toes and brush her mouth against his—
Why shouldn't she? She wanted him—she had never stopped wanting him, even after all these years. What wasn't there to want? Tall. Broad. Defined muscle and hot flesh. A solid wall of pure male perfection. She wasn't the only who wanted, she could see the truth of his own desire in the smoldering eyes that held hers.
One kiss. That was all she wanted. One kiss, just to see if he could still make her stomach clench and her toes curl. To see if he could make her body come alive the way he had all those years ago.
No, she didn't need a kiss for that, not when her body was already yearning for his touch. Not when damp heat was already spreading between her legs, readying herself for him. Needing his touch, begging for a release it knew only he could give.
One kiss.
Only a single kiss wouldn't be enough. It never was, not with Ryder. And if that single kiss led to more?
She didn't care. She wanted him. Needed him.
Hannah leaned up on her toes, let her eyes drift shut as she brushed her mouth against his—
And felt him stiffen in response.
She hesitated, slowly leaned back and carefully opened one eye. Ryder was scowling down at her, the desire she had seen in his eyes mere seconds ago nothing more than a shadow now.
She closed her eye, stepped back as the heat of mortification filled her, quickly dousing the flames of need that had threatened to consume her. God, she was such a fool. Should that surprise her? Was that really anything new? No, not when it came to the man in front of her.
She opened her eyes and took another step back. Started to apologize only to be stopped by Ryder's own voice, deep and husky and rough. "What are you doing, Hannah?"
She blinked, almost laughed in surprise—would have laughed if she hadn't noticed the burning desire that flared in Ryder's eyes one more time for a brief second before he hid it. He wasn't a stupid man, not even close—he knew exactly what she had been doing. And he wouldn't ask unless he was trying to throw her off-base. Make her doubt herself and what she wanted. What he wanted.
Filled with renewed confidence, she leaned closer, pressing her chest against his and silently cursing the thin barrier of her shirt. What would he do if she suddenly reached down and peeled it and her sports bra off? If she pressed her half-naked body to his? Would he take advantage of what she was offering?
Or would he stutter in surprise at her boldness?
Yes, he'd definitely be surprised—she wasn't the shy, awkward girl she'd been all those years ago. And he wasn't the only one who had filled out, either. But he wouldn't let her see even a hint of surprise. Ryder kept his emotions—and his reactions—carefully guarded. He'd always been that way, even back when they were growing up.
It was one of the things that had hurt the most during their oh-so-brief time together.
She pushed the past away and focused on the present. Here. Now, with her body pressed against his. That dark gaze of his focused on her with an intensity that sent shivers racing through her—not shivers of fear or anxiety, but shivers of excitement.
Because no matter how hard he tried to hide it now, she didn't miss the desire smoldering in the depths of those dark eyes.
She pressed her lips against the base of his throat. Tasted the heat of his skin, the slight muskiness of pure male. Felt the way his body tightened, the way his arms pulled her the tiniest bit closer before he tried to step back.
"Hannah, what are you doing?" His voice was even lower now. Huskier, edged with a roughness that pebbled her skin. She bit back her smile and looked up, caught his gaze.
"Kissing you."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
The muscles in his throat silently worked as he swallowed. His hands closed over her arms but he didn't push her away as she feared he would.
"This isn't a good idea."
He was probably right but— "I don't care."
Heat flashed in his eyes, igniting an answering heat deep inside her. Then he blinked and the heat was gone. No, not gone—it was merely hidden behind a carefully constructed mask designed to push her away.
"You want me to fuck you? Is that what this is about?"
The callous words almost did what they were intended to do: push her away. Make her run out the door and never look back. But it was too late because she saw what Ryder was trying to hide with those words:
Need.
Desire.
And beyond that, a yearning so deep and complete that it nearly took her breath away.
She leaned up on her toes and pressed her mouth against the corner of his, heard the sharp hitch in his breath before he could hide it. Then she lifted her head and caught his gaze, let him see the answer in her eyes.
Let him hear it in the single whispered word that fell from her mouth.
"Yes."
Chapter Six
You want me to fuck you?
He'd spit the question with as much ice in his voice as possible—a damn hard thing to do when he was fucking burning up inside. His cock was already straining for release, hard and rigid, begging for just a taste of Hannah's sweet heat.
The question should have frightened her. She should have pushed him away and run for the door. And if it didn't frighten her, it should have pissed her off.
It sure as hell shouldn't have created that flame of need burning deep in her eyes as she stared up at him.
Yes.
Christ, had she really said that? Yeah, she had. Everything about her was saying yes, from that slow burn in her eyes to the way her body pressed against his to the way her tongue darted out and gently slid against her lower lip. And holy fuck, it was so fucking easy to picture that tongue sliding along something else. Picture, hell—he remembered what it felt like. Hannah straddling him, one hand gently cupping his balls as her eager tongue darted out and ran along the length of his cock. Swirled around the head and back down, those shining eyes never leaving his as she gave him a blowjob for the very first time. Her first, not his. But holy shit, it had been the best one ever.
And fuck! He had to stop thinking like that. Had to stop those fucking—damn, wrong word—memories from coming back. Especially now, when her warm body was pressed against his, when her hips gently rocked against the hard length of his cock.
When she stared up at him with those wide eyes filled with need and desire.
It would be easy, so fucking easy, to peel off her clothes and toss her on the bed and sink his cock into her welcoming heat. But he couldn't—she deserved better than he could ever give her. She wanted commitment—happily-ever-after and a house full of kids. Ryder couldn't give that to her.
And he'd be damned if he took advantage of her knowing that. He'd done that once. Nothing could make him do it again.
He tightened his hold on her arms and stepped back. Waited to make sure she wouldn't close that distance between them before finally dropping his hands. "This is a bad idea, Hannah."
She didn't move—thank God. But he couldn't understand why the barest hint of a smile curled her full mouth, or why she tilted her head to the side and slowly raked her gaze from his head to his bare feet and back again—with a long pause at his chest. And Christ, just that look was enough to make his cock twitch with desperate need.
"Why? We're both consenting adults."
What. The. Fuck.
He hadn't expected her to say that. Not in his wildest imagining
s. He folded his arms over his chest and took another step back. Shook his head. Refused to meet her gaze. If he did, he'd be lost. This whole acting honorable thing wasn't his gig. He didn't do relationships—because they didn't last. He'd learned that a long time ago. And it worked for him. Worked for his partners, too. Well, mostly. One or two had thought they could change him, even when he'd been honest and upfront from the very get-go.
No relationships—because the one time he'd tried it, he'd broken the girl's heart.
And lost his own heart in the process.
And yeah, fuck, wasn't that a real kick in the fucking balls because that one time had been with the woman currently eyeing him up like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
He took another step back and bumped up against the warped dresser. "I don't do relationships."
The words—blurted out with a desperation he didn't quite understand—had the exact opposite effect he'd hoped. Instead of turning for the door, Hannah simply shrugged, one sculpted brow arching high over laughing eyes.
"Who said anything about wanting a relationship?
"I—you—" Ryder snapped his mouth closed and frowned. "Hannah, you fucking proposed to me the last time we were together!"
She shrugged and dropped her gaze, but not before he saw the palest blush fan across her cheeks. That blush was gone when she raised her head a few seconds later. "I was young and foolish. You were my first love. I didn't know any better."
"And you do now?" It was a shitty thing to say—which was exactly why he said it. But the words didn't have the effect he'd thought they would because instead of looking upset, Hannah just shrugged again and moved a little closer.
"I'm not young or foolish anymore. And I'm certainly not in love."
The casual words flew through the air and punched him dead-center in the chest. And fuck, that made no sense. He shouldn't feel like he'd just been sucker-punched. Shouldn't be upset that she had so readily admitted she wasn't in love. Dammit, that was a good thing.
Ryder was still mentally floundering, trying to make sense of his asinine reaction, when Hannah closed the distance between them. He uncrossed his arms and started to reach for her—to push her away, because that was the only smart thing to do—but she shook her head and grabbed the hem of her shirt—
And yanked it over her head. The sports bra went next, the soft pink material landing somewhere near her feet. He thought. Hell, for all he knew, she'd tossed the damn thing across the room. He didn't care, could barely form a string of coherent thoughts in his mind because holy fuck, Hannah was standing in front of him, naked from the waist up. He stared at her full breasts, the delicate skin paler than her arms and shoulders. His mouth dried and his cock stiffened almost painfully as the rosy nipples tightened into hard peaks just begging to be touched. To be licked. To be sucked.
Holy.
Fuck.
All he wanted to do was reach out and mold his hands around those firm breasts. To flick each nipple with the tip of his thumb. To close his mouth around each one and lose himself in all that delicious skin.
But he couldn't move. Hell, he could barely fucking breathe. But his mind—just a tiny sane portion that hadn't completely deserted him—told him to back off. Warned him that touching her was a mistake. This was Hannah, dammit—and no matter what she said, she deserved more than a casual romp.
That's what his mind said. The look in Hannah's eyes, in the way her body moved toward his, said something completely different. And when she finally spoke, he knew he was doomed.
"We're just two consenting adults, Ryder." She trailed the tip of her finger through the hair on his chest. Down along his sternum, his abdomen. Lower, to the waistband of his pants. Then she leaned forward, the tight points of her nipples pressing against the heated skin of his chest. Her lips brushed against the base of his throat, igniting a fire deep inside that threatened to consume him.
"Please."
It was that final word, so low and throaty and filled with need, that snapped his tenuous control. He cupped her face between his hands and tilted her head back, captured her mouth in a deep kiss meant to conquer. But was it really a conquering when she surrendered so willingly?
He didn't know.
He didn't care.
Not when her hands closed over his shoulders. Not when she dragged those hands down along his arms, fingers kneading and digging into flesh and muscle until they closed over his wrists.
Not when she guided his hands from her face to her own breasts then sighed in delight when he cupped their heavy weight in his palms.
He deepened the kiss, caught her moan in his mouth, answered with one of his own. Then he broke the kiss, dragged his mouth along the column of her throat, nipping and licking. Down further, across the line of her collarbone, down until his mouth closed over one tight peak and pulled it into his mouth.
She sighed again, her back arching to give him fuller access to those beautiful breasts. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place as he sucked and nipped. And Christ, she tasted so good. So fucking sweet.
But he wanted more. So much more.
He reached between them, undid the button of her shorts and slid the zipper down then dipped his hand inside. Fuck, she was so fucking wet. He pressed one finger against her clit, teased the sensitive flesh. Heard her low moan as her hips rocked against his hand. Slow at first, then faster, each breathy sigh growing louder. She reached between them, pushing at her shorts and underwear until they slid down her legs. She untangled one foot from the bunched material then spread her legs, opening herself more fully to his touch. Hands closed over his shoulders for balance, fingers digging into bare flesh. No, not balance—she was pushing against him.
Not away, but down.
Fuck, yes.
Ryder dropped to his knees, wrapped one arm around her hips, and closed his mouth over her heated flesh. How. Wet. Sweet. So fucking sweet. He used the fingers of his free hand to spread her lips, flicked the point of his tongue against her clit. Again. Over and over as he slid one finger inside her tight pussy. In. Out. Gentle. Slow at first then faster, matching the needy rhythm of her rocking hips.
He released his hold on her, reached down and undid his own pants, pushed them past his hips and closed his hand around his throbbing cock. Stroked, hard and fast, his tongue and finger still teasing her clit. Her pussy. Bringing her closer. Closer still.
Fuck.
He released his cock, dug into his pants for his wallet. Opened it one-handed and searched for a condom, damn near dropped the fucking thing in his hurry. He lifted his mouth from her pussy, her low moan unleashing something almost desperate inside him. This is what it was like with Hannah, what it had always been like.
Desperate. Hungry. Out of control.
No, fuck that. He was older now, had one hell of a lot more control than before.
Yeah, right. Sure he did. That's why his hand was shaking, why his balls were already drawing tight against his straining cock.
He swore softly, finally tore open the wrapper with his teeth and quickly sheathed himself before closing his mouth on Hannah's sweet pussy one more time. Her hands closed over his shoulders again, nails biting into flesh as he licked and stroked and teased. Harder. Faster. Faster still as her inner muscles clenched around his fingers. Gripping. Squeezing. Tight. Tighter. So fucking tight—until her orgasm exploded.
She called his name, the sound hoarse with need as she came undone. He tugged her down, sat back on his heels as she straddled his legs. He caught her mouth with his, swallowed each groan and cry as he guided his cock to her wet entrance.
As he drove deep inside her with one long push.
She cried again, broke the kiss and arched her back, meeting each desperate thrust with her own. And God. Fuck. Holy shit. She was so fucking tight. So fucking hot. So fucking wet.
He grabbed her hips, thrust his cock even deeper. Harder. Faster. And fuck, he was close. Too fucking close. He'd never lost himself lik
e this before, not since—
Not since Hannah.
He stilled his hips. Tilted his head back and swallowed a groan as her inner muscles clamped around him. Squeezing. Milking.
Tempting him into paradise.
Ryder groaned, raised his head and felt the breath rush from constricted lungs as watched Hannah. Her head was tilted back, her back arched, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she rode him. Her skin glowed with a deep flush; her nipples puckered into two tight peaks. He looked down, swallowed another groan at the sight of her sweet wet pussy sliding along the hard length of his thick cock.
And fuck. It was too much. Too hard. Too fast. Sensation and pleasure and need coiled low in his gut, pushing him closer and closer—
He reached up, fisted his hand in Hannah's silky hair and dragged her face toward his. Caught her mouth in a searing kiss. Drove his hips up. Hard. Fast. Faster, until his own orgasm crashed over him with blinding strength, robbing him of air. Of thought. Of reason.
Of everything except pleasure so sharp, he'd thought his fucking skin would split from keeping it contained.
Mindless minutes went by. He slowed the kiss, finally dragged his mouth from Hannah's and rested his forehead against her chest. Her own breathing was as ragged and harsh as his, the sound filling the still air of the small bungalow.
Ryder closed his eyes. Sucked in a few more deep breaths. Tried to calm his racing heart. He needed to get up, dispose of the condom. Hell, they both needed to get up, they were on the floor and—
Fuck.
He opened his eyes, looked around as shame washed over him. Hannah's shorts and underwear were tangled around one ankle, her rugged sandals still on her feet. His own fucking pants were still on, pushed down to his thighs and bunched under Hannah's spread legs. What the fuck was wrong with him? The bed was right behind him, less than a foot away, and they were on the fucking floor.
He needed his fucking head examined. What the fuck had he been thinking?
He hadn't been, that was the problem.
The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3) Page 6