“Wait,” Ty said to the volunteer. “Aiyla, you’ve got a mile or more to go, plus the swim. Can your leg take it?”
She turned to the volunteer and said, “Thank you, but you can report me as ‘found and finishing the race.’”
She was so damn stubborn it made his blood boil. Ty handed the volunteer the walkie-talkie and said, “Can you please call Joe Malpas, tell him I’m with her?”
“Sure.” The volunteer waved and headed back the way she’d come.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Aiyla turned an angry glare on Ty. “Have you ever not finished a race?”
“No, but your leg—”
“Is fine!” she insisted, and picked up her pace—probably just to spite him. “I don’t know what the other women in your life are like, but I am not a damsel in distress, and I’m not a quitter. Not now, not ever. So as much as I appreciate your concern, and coming all this way to help me, I do not need or want a knight in shining armor.”
“I’m not trying to be your knight in shining armor, and I don’t have other women in my life. Jesus, Aiyla. I was worried about you. Is that a fucking crime?”
She narrowed her eyes, as if she were weighing his answer—or possibly her own. “I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. That’s almost a decade, Ty. I can handle anything.”
“Obviously,” he ground out. “I messed up. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, and I appreciate your concern. But I don’t need anyone making people look for me. Do you even know how embarrassing that is?” She looked away, keeping up her faster pace.
“Better embarrassed than dehydrated and stuck on this fucking mountain.” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but his worries had heightened with her uneven gait. “Trixie said she didn’t remember passing you. I thought you might have strayed off the trail and gotten injured, or bitten by a snake, or just flat-out exhausted.”
Jaw tight, stubborn eyes set on the trail ahead, she said, “Well, I didn’t.”
“Clearly. You don’t have to be so bullheaded.”
“Ha! Look who’s talking.”
“What does that mean?” he challenged, trying to slow their pace and give her leg a break, but she didn’t follow along, maintaining a moderate pace.
“Listen to yourself,” she said, watching him intently now. “You’re arguing your point like you did in Switzerland.”
“I wanted you to come with me when I left Saint-Luc. Of course I argued my point.” Where the hell was this coming from? She sounded even angrier than she’d been a moment ago.
“Why? So Mr. Girl-in-Every-Country could add one more to his harem? I have a life, Ty. A life I worked really hard to create, and I’m not giving it up to be one of a long line of women making their way through your revolving bedroom door. No matter how good of a kisser you are.”
He clenched his jaw, the uneven cadence of their footfalls filling the uncomfortable silence. “Is that what you think?”
“It wasn’t when we were together,” she said softly, then stronger, “but everyone who follows your career knows about your reputation. Out here, I’ve had lots of time to think about it. And trust me, I’ve tried not to.”
She held his gaze as they jogged, the anger in her eyes replaced with something softer, sadder. “Is it true?”
He’d always known his reputation would catch up with him one day, but he’d never imagined caring about someone enough for it to matter. But that look in her eyes made him wish he could erase every other woman from his past. “Is that why you refused to come with me when I left Saint-Luc?”
“What would you have done if the tables were turned?” she asked confidently. “If I had a rep of sleeping with anyone in my path, would you have given up everything for me?”
“I don’t know or care how many men you’ve slept with,” he said, but as too many silent seconds passed between them, he realized that wasn’t true. Just the thought of her with another guy made him want to punch something.
She slowed her pace, looking at him like she didn’t believe him, either.
“Obviously, I do care,” he admitted. “I hate thinking about you and any other guy. But when we were in Saint-Luc, I didn’t think about it. Not even once. All I cared about was the person you were when you were with me, the connection we shared, and the way our hopes for the future, and our ideals, aligned. You were it for me, Aiyla, and these last few months have totally sucked. I thought about you every second, willing fate to step in and fighting the urge to track you down. But I didn’t want to break my promise to you.”
They entered the wooded trail, and he fell into step behind her, his eyes gravitating naturally to her gorgeous ass. A thread of guilt wound through him for that—he was totally into her for more than her body—but her body was too fricking hot to ignore.
“Then it’s true,” she said.
“It was true. I’m not going to lie to you about who I was before we met. I had no one to answer to, no commitment. It wasn’t like I was a cheating bastard. I had no one to cheat on.”
“Then why did you want me to leave Saint-Luc and travel with you? Why mess up a good thing?” She stopped short, and he plowed into her. They both stumbled, but he planted his legs on the hilly trail, catching her around her waist.
“You okay?” He did a quick visual assessment. “Did I hurt your leg?”
She clung to him, breathing hard. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“I’ve got two sisters, and I know damn well fine doesn’t really mean you’re okay, but I get it, as far as the race goes. You’re determined to do this on your own, and I respect that.” He took her hands in his and said, “I’m not sure what you want to hear about me, but the truth is, I knew you were different the first day we met. What I had before you was not a good thing. Maybe I thought it was at the time, or for some of that time, but nothing compares to what we had when we were together. You and I had a great thing, Aiyla, and that’s what I want. I want you.”
Chapter Four
AIYLA STOOD BENEATH the stars at the edge of their campsite later that evening, gazing over the inky water, wondering how she was going to make it down the rocks. Her leg had throbbed like fire during the run, but she’d had a minor reprieve while swimming in the cool lake. Now pain settled in again like a toothache. She was beating the hell out of her leg, but she wasn’t about to miss her chance at taking part in the Mad Prix—or let the pain stop her from enjoying her date with Ty, who stood beside her looking hotter than hell in cargo shorts, a dark shirt, and an open sweatshirt. She’d wrestled all evening with his honesty—and his confession. What I had before you was not a good thing…You and I had a great thing, Aiyla, and that’s what I want. I want you. He could have said anything, told her the rumors weren’t true, made himself out to be something he wasn’t. But he hadn’t, and that honesty had sparked even more emotions. It had opened doors for them to communicate in ways she’d been afraid to.
“Race ya,” Ty teased.
He’d stayed with her for the duration of the race, including swimming across the lake right beside her. Afterward, he’d insisted on visiting the health tent together, despite the fact that she was a trained EMT and felt she could handle caring for her leg on her own. His response sailed through her mind. And a carpenter’s house is always the worst one on the block. She smiled with the memory, even though she’d been more than a little annoyed at him for being so overprotective. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had worried so much about her.
“I can totally do this,” she lied. She didn’t like to admit defeat. She’d taken pain medication, and she was hoping it would kick in soon.
Ty stepped in front of her, a big, bad wall of hotness. “I know you can, but I’ve got a better idea.” He turned around and stooped. “Climb on, baby cakes. We’re going for a ride.”
Laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. “I am not getting on your back like a child.”
He rose to his feet and pulled her closer, rubbing against her as he
gazed into her eyes. Every press of his delicious muscles chipped away at her resolve. His hand slid down her hip as his whiskers scratched sensually against her cheek, sending shivers along her spine.
“How about you climb on like the sexy woman you are,” he said in a seductive voice, “so I can feel all your sweetness pressed against my back?”
The combination of his hands clutching her hips, the scratchy taunt of his scruff against her skin, and his gravelly voice was about the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. “When you say it like that, how can I refuse?”
She climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. He moaned lecherously, then chuckled at his tease. She couldn’t resist running her hands over his chest. His shirt was soft, his muscles hard and defined. She stretched her fingers lower, trying to touch his abs, and earning another guttural sound of desire. She’d thought of touching him for so long, she allowed herself this time on her Ty playground, even knowing it might not go any further. She still needed to understand what wanting her meant to him in the long run. She wasn’t about to get tied into some sort of open relationship.
His hand slid up her calves as he navigated the rocky terrain with ease. “Oh yeah, baby. This is nice.”
She put her mouth beside his ear as he neared the bottom of the hill and said, “So nice you might have to carry me everywhere.”
He turned as he lowered her to her feet, keeping her close. She felt his hardness against her belly, and he began to sway, singing just above a whisper about how they should take this back to his place. His hands were on a mission, running up her hips, across her back, into her hair, and boy, oh boy, did she love it. She knew she should slow him down and figure out where they really stood, but he was singing about wanting to take his time, and doing this all night long, and she realized he was singing along with Niall Horan’s “Slow Hands,” one of her favorite songs, as it played nearby.
He turned to his side, motioning in the direction of the music, where a blanket was spread out on the ground, another folded beneath his backpack. The music was coming from his phone. He’d remembered her favorite song, too?
“You set all this up for us?” When they were in Saint-Luc he’d played his guitar and sang to her every night. It was so romantic, his voice so compelling, that he’d mesmerized her with every lyric. And when he sang, he’d looked at her like he was right at that very second, like she was the only thing that existed, opening up her heart even more.
“For you, baby cakes. Always for you.”
He danced seductively and slowly as he sang, and memories of the longing she’d felt after he’d left Saint-Luc swamped her. The pain of knowing neither of them could call or text had been almost too much to bear. She’d wanted to hear his voice, needed it like she’d needed oxygen to survive. But her mother had taught her from a young age that wanting and needing were two very different things. True needs, like food, clothing, and a roof over her head in winter were things she should never leave up to chance. Those were things that, as an adult, she needed to work to achieve. But wants? Wants were taunts and teases, with the power to undermine everything she’d worked so hard for. Wants could only be handled by fate. If fate intervened, then nothing could stop what was meant to be.
As she danced in Ty’s arms, she was lulled into his sultry seduction. His warm body pressed against her as he sang, and she wanted to believe they were meant to be. She’d spent years being careful. If her mother’s early death had taught her anything, it was that opening her heart and relying on someone else was dangerous. But she could count on Ty. Hadn’t he proven that by coming after her this afternoon, even if she hadn’t wanted him to? And by not breaking his promise for all this time? The days they’d spent together in Switzerland had been full of opportunities for him to let her down, but he hadn’t. Not once.
“I still can’t believe you’re really here with me,” he said softly, and ran his finger along her jaw, no longer looking at her.
He was looking through her, into her very heart and soul, the way he had their last night together. The night she’d wanted desperately to feel his strong arms around her, his rough hands caressing her naked body as he made love to her. She’d held back then, and the rational part of her knew she needed to hold back now, but every glide of his hands heightened her desires, her greed for him.
“I have missed you so much,” he confessed. “I ache with it.”
The longing in his voice, in her heart, broke the last of her fraying resolve. There beneath the stars, on this gorgeous summer night, she threw caution to the wind and gave herself over to the music and the incredible man she was dancing with, allowing the pain in her leg, and the rest of the world, to take a backseat to the heat thrumming between them.
“Kiss me,” she pleaded, and went up on her toes.
His full lips came down over hers, soft and demanding at once, sending her senses reeling. One of his hands dove into her hair, the other pressed to her back, bringing their bodies so close she could feel his heart beating against her own. He deepened the kiss, a hungry sound escaping his lips, vibrating through her, awakening desires that had lain dormant for far too long. He tasted like sins and blessings all tangled up and impossible to separate. And she wanted him, wanted this—more kisses, longer touches. The anticipation was killing her. He eased his efforts to a slow, lingering slide of their tongues, ending in a series of featherlight kisses along her mouth and jaw. Heat spread down her limbs, and she tried to catch her breath as he placed openmouthed kisses around her neck, tasting her all the way up to her ear. Her entire body electrified, every nerve ending flaming on the surface of her skin.
“Just as sweet and special as I remember. My Aiyla,” he whispered, and caught her earlobe between his teeth, sending electrifying pinpricks beneath her skin.
She inhaled sharply, and he captured her mouth again, easing the sting with more delicious kisses. She clung to his neck, pushed her fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life as his hips pressed forward. His arousal was hard and tempting. His tongue moved over her teeth, along the roof of her mouth, possessing every inch of her. She was trembling, and her thoughts scrambled away. And then she was in his arms as he carried her to the blanket, reclaiming her mouth as he lay down beside her. His thigh moved over hers and her whole body arched toward him. She couldn’t keep a moan from escaping into their kiss.
“Love that sound,” he ground out, and dove in for more, kissing her in the same way he did everything: smooth as butter and hot as fire.
His hands moved up her torso, grazing the undersides of her breasts, and she held her breath. They hadn’t gone further than kissing in Saint-Luc, and she felt his hesitation—and her own—warring with the heat pulsing between them. But she wanted his touch, craved it. She covered his hand with hers, and he held them together.
He drew back from the kiss, and she lifted her head, trying to recapture it.
“Your kisses wreck me” slipped from his lips, and then he was kissing her again, long and deep, his body sinking deliciously into hers.
Their joined hands remained still, his fingers clinging to hers, as if he needed that anchor to keep himself in check. His hot, hungry mouth moved along her jaw and down her neck, every touch of his lips sending darts of lust to her core. She didn’t want him to keep himself in check. She wanted more.
RAW, UNBRIDLED PASSION radiated from every fiber of Aiyla’s being. Ty was as sure of it as he had ever been of anything in his life. But he’d been here before, so lost in her she was all he could see, and she’d sent him away. He’d spent the last several months picking apart what had gone wrong, and now that he knew, he wasn’t leaving anything else up to fate or chance or the goddamn tooth fairy. He forced himself to pull away.
Air rushed from her lungs, and his gut clenched tight. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t go cold turkey after he’d just found her again.
Lowering his mouth to hers, he said, “We need to talk,” between kisses. His hips rocked, his fingers clu
ng to hers, and his cock twitched painfully beneath his shorts. But he knew he had to put on the brakes. When he forced himself to back off again, she made a mewling sound that nearly did him in. How the hell was he supposed to resist her?
He brushed his lips over hers in a series of painstakingly light kisses, easing himself away. “Aiyla, I can’t do this again.”
The sweetest smile he’d ever seen spread across her face. “You were doing pretty well. I’m already drunk on you.”
He laughed and brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I can’t get so lost in you again that I can’t see straight. It messed me up last time. I’m not sure I’d survive it again.”
She trapped her lower lip between her teeth, looking adorable and sexy and so fucking desirable the voice in his head called him a fool for stopping. He gazed into her eyes, willing himself not to lose control, but a tidal wave of emotions bowled him over, and he couldn’t stop the truth from coming out.
“I want to make love to you until the sun comes up, and then I want to do it again and again, until the next day passes and we’ve used every ounce of energy, and we fall asleep in each other’s arms from sheer exhaustion. And right now, with the moonlight reflecting in your eyes, you look like a dreamer, making me want to be in those dreams with you. But I know you’re not. You’re too grounded for that, and I feel too much for you to pretend we’re something we aren’t.”
Her brows knitted. “What are you saying?”
“You sent me away before, and now that I understand why, I think we need to clear the air before we go any further.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tight. “Don’t,” he said too harshly, and paused, tempering his tone before saying, “Please don’t pull away. This isn’t going to be easy for either of us, but walking away from you is not an option, and I’m hoping that after we talk, it won’t be an option for you, either.”
Thrill of Love Page 4