High Risk (Point of No Return Book 1)

Home > Romance > High Risk (Point of No Return Book 1) > Page 20
High Risk (Point of No Return Book 1) Page 20

by Brenna Aubrey

Ryan continued to stare at the ceiling. “Bogart knew the importance of that threat to me. Xander made me promise I’d fly again. That I wouldn’t let the accident stop me, no matter what the outcome.”

  I mulled that over for a moment. Wow, talk about laying a heavy charge at Ryan’s feet during a horrendous time for both of them. But perhaps Xander’s concern had been about giving Ryan something to live for instead of blaming himself.

  “Are you flying for the right reasons, then? Because you want to and not because it’s what Xander wanted?”

  He rose up again, his face approaching mine. “Another question. And I never got my payment for the previous one.”

  My breath stuck in my throat. Ryan put a deliberate hand on my shoulder and nudged, pushing me flat on my back. The entire world did a loop-de-loop as he hovered over me, unmistaken desire in his eyes. Slowly, his head sank toward me and my mouth opened, ready to accept him when…

  When he changed direction, and his mouth landed on my chest, slowly, hotly outlining the shape of my scar with his kisses. Erotic traces of his mouth across my sternum, my collarbone before bringing his face up to hover above mine. “You smell so good.”

  Click. Click. Clicky. Click. Click. My prosthetic valve was a traitor, exposing me, letting him know so clearly his effect on me. Of course, the fact that I could barely catch my breath had something to do with it too.

  No one had touched me like this. Ever. And he seemed to be capitalizing on that fact—without even knowing it.

  I had no illusions that I came across as experienced. To someone like Ryan, who had been with lots of women, I was certain my lack of skill was beyond obvious. But it hadn’t seemed to deter him one bit. Quite the opposite—that flame behind his eyes appeared to burn hotter than before. Maybe even enough to melt the glacial blue ice there.

  “Do you want to fly for yourself, or is it just because of what you promised Xander?” I asked, rephrasing my earlier question.

  His dark brows trembled, but his mouth twitched up. “Ohh…that one. That’s a very deep, probing question, Dr. Gray. I think I’m going to demand that I charge you up front for that answer. Are you willing to pay the price?”

  I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was lock gazes with him and nod wordlessly, unable to even fathom where he’d go next but all too willing to follow him there. Far too willing to follow him there.

  Reason shouted at me from the back of my mind, told me this shouldn’t go any further. But he did not tear his gaze away from my face when his hand went to the strap of my dress and gently scooted it off my shoulder, exposing my right breast.

  I only barely suppressed a whimper as his dark head sank to envelop my nipple with his lips. My mouth dropped and my back arched up to him as he made hot contact, his tongue circling, his mouth closing in, sucking. Fire and bliss and tension all rolled into one.

  My mind—even that voice at the back of it—blanked out, and all I could feel was Ryan’s mouth on me, his hand closing over the other, still-covered breast. The deep, guttural growl in the base of his throat as I let out an involuntary moan. I was consumed, body and mind, by his touch.

  White-hot fire bloomed in my chest, in my core, between my legs. I shivered under him, delirious and drunk for more.

  I needed more. I needed him. Everywhere. He shifted his weight onto me, and our mouths were together again, my body writhing underneath him, as little under my control as my own thoughts and desire were in that moment.

  Now he was whispering, his mouth pressed to my ear as he pushed against me. “Gray, I want to fuck you so bad right now. I need you.”

  I closed my eyes, thoughts swirling. Knowing I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.

  But dear God, how I wanted to.

  Chapter 15

  Ryan

  She was exquisite, the taste and the feel of her slender body against mine intoxicated me quicker than alcohol entering my bloodstream. I nudged a knee between hers, opening them. My hand immediately gravitated to the dress hem—which was ankle-length, but with a couple tugs, I had the skirt bunched up above her knees. I brushed my hand against her soft thigh, and she sucked in a hiss between her teeth.

  It was obvious she didn’t get enough of this—or at least, hadn’t got enough of it lately. Must have been a long time since the last man in her life had touched her. But she sure was enjoying it now. Enthusiastically so. And that was making it even hotter for me. My hard-on was painful, tight in my pants.

  So I wouldn’t be following the original plan to binge vodka and make an utter ass of myself at the bar. This was going to be a whole lot more fun. And if I was honest with myself, I’d been desperately wanting inside Gray’s panties since the minute I’d kissed her in my living room the week before.

  Her sweet sighs, the way she moved against me. She was making it goddamn hard to hold myself back. My hand scooted up her thigh under the skirt. I made sure to do it slowly, so she could stop if she wanted to. But I’d be fucking crushed if she stopped this now.

  My mouth was on her neck, my hand and mouth moving in concert with each other as if in some complicated training maneuver, flying a T-38 Talon.

  I had to be very careful. Because this was different. This wasn’t like other times. She wasn’t like the others.

  Those tempting sighs as her fingers trailed through my hair, tightening to pull at the roots. The slight pain only inflamed me more. Those tiny catches of breath. One of my hands pressed against her back, and a tremor wavered through her body beneath the thin cotton of her dress.

  Arousal surged, my body hardening even more in response to this new rush of lust. But I resisted rushing her the way my body was rushing me.

  “I need to be inside you,” I murmured into her mouth as I pressed my hard cock against her leg.

  And that, apparently, was where I made my mistake. I felt it the second she stiffened, her hands sliding from my hair to press against my chest. As a last-ditch effort, I moved my hand higher on her thigh, to rest on the hot mound covered by her panties. But I didn’t go diving in, allowing her time to process.

  She shivered again, and I felt it rip through me too. I closed my eyes to savor the feeling, but before I could move my hand or do anything else, she turned her head away from mine and pushed against me. “This needs to stop, Ryan.”

  Fuck.

  Her breath came fast, and I couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous she looked when her face was flushed. I drew back, keeping my hands exactly where they were. Maybe she’d change her mind? Yeah, keep hoping, idiot.

  With jerky movements, she reached down and locked her thin fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand away from her panties. Damn it. So close and yet so far. My cock ached. She was calm but very firm with her actions, leaving me in no doubt whatsoever. I drew back, pulling my other arm out from underneath her. She’d probably go on about how this was a mistake and should never happen between us. I was sure as fuck not going to acknowledge that.

  It hadn’t felt this right with a woman in a long time. Like I cared less about getting myself off and more about making her feel good. Of course, I always made sure a woman enjoyed herself in bed with me, but this was different.

  Because it wasn’t only about getting her off.

  Maybe I was hoping that some of her goodness, some of that tenderness, would rub off on me for a short amount of time, like Tinker Bell’s fairy dust. Like sprinkles of hope.

  Hope. That was something I hadn’t felt for a long time.

  Gray slowly sat up and fixed the bodice of her dress to cover herself, then recommitted to that plan completely when she rebuttoned her blouse. I watched, blinking, trying to clear my head of the lustful thoughts running through them right now.

  Her hair, more disheveled than ever, her face, flushed and pink. Her eyes, bright with arousal. She wasn’t simply cute. She was fucking gorgeous—breathtaking.

  And I wanted her without question.

  I was supposed to respond, I guess, but I had no idea what
the question was, so I sat up. Running a hand over my hair to smooth it down, I tried to forget how it felt to have her thread her fingers through it, scraping over my scalp, running tingles down my entire body with each one.

  Stupidly, I held out hope that maybe she wasn’t actually slamming on the brakes. She could want to talk about birth control or express her consent or some possible medical complication given her various health issues or who knew what. Yeah, keep dreaming, chump.

  “Why are we doing this?” she finally asked with a shake of her head, that fine, unruly hair of hers puffing out at the sides, making me itch to run my fingers through the mass of waves and curls. I swallowed, my throat tight, every pulse point throbbing with need.

  Yep, it looked like the brakes were officially being slammed. “Well, I thought that was obvious. I also thought it’s what you wanted.”

  She looked away from me and reached over to the nightstand to grab her glasses and replace them on her nose. I might have liked to, but I was completely unable to rip my eyes away from her every movement. I watched her like a hungry tiger in the bush, stalking prey.

  And she was watching me too. With equal intensity.

  Then she shook her head, those innocent green eyes widening, her dark brows rising above the rims of her glasses. She looked sad or disappointed. Disappointed? In me?

  Join the club, Gray, I wanted to say in response, but I kept my mouth shut. Forcing my gaze away, I let out a long sigh and willed my stupid body to calm the fuck down. A dark thought at the back of my head said I should have put the moves on one of those random women at the bar instead.

  Maybe I’d enjoy that. But it wasn’t what I wanted. What I needed.

  What I needed was right in front of me, folding her arms over her less than ample chest, studying me and looking somewhat like a comic book character drawn with a lightbulb over her head.

  “Why are you doing this?” she repeated.

  I turned back to her, giving her my own unwavering scrutiny. “I want you.”

  She raised a brow. “Do you? Do you really?”

  Enough with the fucking games. “Isn’t it obvious? Now you’re being ridiculous with the, You couldn’t possibly find me sexy. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Her mouth thinned and she stiffened. “That’s not why I asked, but thank you.”

  “Why did you ask, then?”

  “Because it’s clear that you’re using sex to numb yourself.”

  I drew back, blinking, ready to deny her assertion. But in the back of my mind, a voice yelled at me, calling me a hypocrite. She was right. I’d just been chastising myself for not finding someone who’d be more willing to go along with it for the ride. I clenched my jaw, scowling.

  Her gaze dropped to the bed, and almost involuntarily, she blushed, biting her bottom lip. My breath stuttered, watching that mouth, the way she chewed her lip, the way it was clear her nipples were erect under the thin cotton of her dress. The way that dark, rosy pink nipple had tasted in my mouth, the gasp in the back of her throat, the arch in her back.

  Christ. I closed my eyes and rubbed the knot in the top of my spine.

  “I’m not going to be the scratch for your itch, Ryan.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Gee, when you put it that way, it sounds so appealing.” My shoulders slumped, and I was now exhausted. The adrenaline of anticipated sex was quickly evaporating from my body, and all I wanted now was to feel the hot spray of a shower on my sore muscles. To lie down on a soft bed and sleep for hours in a quiet room.

  But I didn’t want to be alone—more particularly, I didn’t want her to leave.

  If she stayed here with me, I might have the courage to sleep through the night for once.

  “I’m, uh, going to hit the shower.” I stood from the bed, taking a step toward the bathroom. In response, she stood and took a step toward me.

  “Ryan.”

  I stopped but didn’t turn to her. “What?”

  “I didn’t mean to—are you mad? I didn’t want to make you angry.”

  “Angry? No. Frustrated? Sure.”

  “But do you get why you want this? It’s your instinct in response to what you’re feeling from all that today. First, the push to get drunk, then the rush toward sex. You’re trying to numb your pain.”

  I closed my eyes again. “I feel nothing. I am numb.”

  “That’s not true. You’re not letting yourself access those feelings. It’s like a child when she burns herself on the stove. The next time she feels the heat, she pulls back—sometimes very far back. You were just in a room with your closest friends from the last decade—all but one. And his widow—”

  “I’m fully aware. And yeah, it wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but hell, if I can climb a fucking mountain on zero sleep and minimal food and water then—”

  “No!” she rasped, quickly approaching me. “No, you can’t compare those. Facing physical hardships has no bearing on how you’ll handle something like this. Especially when you insist on carrying the heavy burden for it.”

  My shoulders slumped before I even realized what specifically she was saying. That tight feeling in my throat. I turned to her, and I could see them—tears pooling in the bottom of those big eyes, a tremble in that bottom lip.

  Tears for me.

  I watched, stupefied, as one tiny tear escaped the corner of her eye and traced a silent path down her cheek. Without even a thought, I reached a finger up and traced its path across her luminous skin.

  She sniffed loudly and mirrored my action, placing a hand on my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on every square centimeter of that skin in contact with mine, her warm palm molding to my jaw, my cheek.

  “We both have a problem, then. I should admit I’m using sex to numb my pain, sure. You should admit that you are an attractive woman whom men desire.”

  I studied her face, her reaction. Her eyes were wide, and she swallowed before her gaze fell away from mine.

  “Deal?” I asked, pushing the issue.

  A faint laugh escaped her lips—an expulsion of a quick breath, not unlike that catch of breath that had so inflamed me when I’d kissed her. The memory of it struck a new spark in me, straight down to my gut.

  “Deal,” she agreed quietly.

  I didn’t get rejected, ever. But I had to admit this was incredibly arousing. I should get rejected more often. By her.

  “Are you-are you going to be all right now if I go back to my room?”

  I reached out and captured her wrist to prevent her from pulling away as she took a step back. “Please don’t.”

  Her face clouded. “Nothing’s happening between us, I thought—”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, I know. You made that perfectly clear, but…” Jesus. It was hard to even ask the question, to even get it out without each word belting out more proof that I was a weak fool. Answering her questions earlier had been hard enough.

  It was damn near fucking impossible to admit that I needed help from anyone, that I needed help from her. That I wanted more than anything to lie down on that bed and sleep undisturbed until morning.

  “You want me to stay so we can talk?”

  God, no. I sighed. “No. I…I want to go to sleep. I’m feeling exhausted.”

  Her dark brows creased together. “But you want me to stay while you sleep?”

  My hand tightened around her wrist. “Please.”

  God, this was stupid. Why did I even want her here, and why was I begging her for it? If she stayed, there’d be all that much more danger of her discovering my pathetic secret.

  “You want me to stay in here until you fall asleep?” she asked, her eyes widening like a child’s.

  I shook my head, almost wearily.

  “You want me to leave?” I shook my head again. She frowned and then looked at the bed and back at me. “You want me to sleep here?”

  I closed my eyes again, that pain growing in my chest. It almost felt as if I could burst into tears
if I could ever manage to let the emotion out. Instead, it was a knot of sharp agony twisting inside me. But still, I knew I’d rather sever my own arm and abandon it by a roadside than ask for help.

  “Nothing will happen,” I said. “I’d rather not be alone.” My voice died out.

  Her brows came together, and she stepped forward with that precious gesture once again, touching my face with her delicate hand. “I’ll stay. But no one should see.”

  Of course not. I was supposed to be having a very public affair with the amiable Keely, who was most likely getting her rocks off with her Russian one-night stand. I’d seen them leave the bar out the back right after my talk with Karen. If I knew my man Kirill, I was sure Keely would be a happy woman tomorrow.

  I envied him his lack of damage.

  Releasing a long breath, staring into those pristine green eyes, I felt broken. Could you fix me, Gray Barrett? You said that wasn’t your job. That it was mine. But why do I wish so much that you could?

  Her troubled expression cleared, and she appeared to go into problem-solving mode. “I’m gonna slip out to my room so I can brush my teeth and put on some yoga pants. But I’ll be back. Why don’t you take that shower?”

  I walked over to the nightstand, grabbed the keycard, and handed it to her. She thanked me and went to the door then turned before she left. “You, uh, you don’t sleep naked or anything, do you?”

  I grinned—couldn’t resist. “You have a problem with that?” Her brows shot up and she glared at me. I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be decent.”

  She pressed her lips together as if suppressing a smile, and turned to leave. I chuckled to myself as I grabbed a pair of gym shorts and a fresh T-shirt from my luggage and went into the bathroom.

  By the time I was finished, she was back in my room, sitting on the bed—clothed in gray yoga pants and a NASA T-shirt, one with the classic round logo—affectionately referred to as “the meatball” by insiders—and fuzzy pink socks. She’d also removed her glasses.

  My body had not forgotten the promises of those earlier kisses and tastes of her, and even now, I was reminded of how delicious those breasts were under the thin T-shirt that was stretched over them. Mouthwatering, as a matter of fact. My eyes dropped, noting the way her pants clung to those long, shapely thighs.

 

‹ Prev