Hovering above her, Ryan ducked his head and kissed her, tugging her lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it. The taste of Fin was like the purest Heaven and the hottest Hell.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, he started pulling out and she winced.
“You okay?”
Fuck. Tears were pooling in her eyes. They spilled over, rolling down the sides of her face and into her hair.
And there it was—the guilt—swallowing him until he was drowning in it.
“Baby, please don’t cry anymore.” He looked down as he slid out of her. “Oh fuck,” he breathed.
You dumb, stupid fuck.
“What?”
He looked at her. “I didn’t use a condom.”
Ryan hovered above her, his hands pressed into the mattress over her shoulders. His dark eyes were wide with panic when just moments ago they’d been consumed with a fire so intense she’d felt almost branded.
“Fin? I’m sorry.” Guilt swept across his face. “I didn’t mean t-to—”
Fin shoved him off and rolled over, curling herself into a little ball. Her hands shook as she clutched them to her chest, her shame palpable. What had she done to him?
She’d read the letter from Jake and suddenly the world had turned black, as though his words had blocked out the sun. Anger for the both of them leaving stabbed at her like a sharp blade, but it felt good—the wild rage giving her life. When Ryan grabbed her, the spark flickered out and as she slid down the wall, all the pain she’d buried deep inside had bled out over both of them.
Then she’d done the unthinkable and begged Ryan to take it away. And he had. He’d widened his stance, tattooed muscles bulging as he folded his arms, and ordered her to take off her clothes. His eyes had been bleak, his jaw tight, as though already forgiving her for what she was doing to them.
But his face. Oh God. He’d rammed himself inside her and she watched his hurt transform into beautiful agony. She felt his muscles flexing as her hands roamed down his back, cupping his firm ass as he thrust deep enough, hard enough, to have her gasping for air. He obliterated her pain with each wild stroke, over and over.
Now, after so many years of longing, their first time had been filled with pain and grief, instead of being sweet and special. Had she ruined that between them for one brief moment of feeling something? She didn’t want brief moments. She wanted what she’d yearned for right from the start—the very moment she’d tripped up the school steps and lost her heart. But even now, with Ryan lying naked in her bed, he still wasn’t hers. The Army, and the war, owned him—body and soul. Fin never stood a chance.
Ryan’s palm scraped over her shoulder. “Fin?”
She shrugged it off. “Don’t touch me.”
“But—”
“I’m clean, okay? I had a medical for my expedition and I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“That’s not—” He paused. “Me too.”
She wasn’t on the pill though. Not that she’d tell Ryan that. The last thing she needed to see in his eyes was more panic. She’d go to the pharmacy in the morning and sort it out.
Sheets rustled behind her as Ryan shifted. His fingers began trailing their way down her spine, slowly circling each protruding bone until he reached the small of her back.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, concern weighting his voice.
Fin squeezed her eyes shut. “No.”
“You should eat something.” He shifted in close, his chest brushing against her back and she shivered. “Cold?”
Cold? The heat of him was scorching her skin and she wanted to bury herself in it. She pulled away a little instead. “I’m not anything except tired, Ryan.”
“Enough,” he growled. He grabbed at her, her body flailing as he stood up and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Oomph.” She pushed at his back. “Put me down!”
“No.”
“Now, Ryan,” she demanded as he stalked out of her bedroom. His hand slid up her leg, squeezing her bare ass, and she gasped.
“No.”
He carried her to the bathroom and reaching inside the shower, flicked on the taps while she struggled in his hold. “Ryan, please. I just want to sleep.”
Ryan ignored her. Stretching out a hand, he checked the temperature of the water as steam began pouring out. Setting her on her feet, he nodded at the shower. “Get in.”
Anger rose in her chest and it felt satisfying. “Stop telling me what to do!”
“Then stop with the cold bitch act. It’s not you and I don’t like it!” She resisted when he seized her shoulders. “Get in the goddamn shower!” he roared.
“Ryan—”
He picked her up, his arms locking around her, and stepped in the shower with her. Scalding water pounded over them.
“After this, you’re going to bloody eat something. You look like you haven’t eaten in months.”
She stood motionless as Ryan grabbed at the soap and started rubbing it over her body in rough, jerky movements.
“I forced you to have sex with me,” she whispered.
He froze.
Straightening his back, he looked down at her, his eyes searching her face. “Is that what you think?”
Fin nodded mutely.
“That’s so far from the truth I can’t believe you’d even think it. I have a thick skin, baby,” he told her, his wide shoulders crowding her back against the cool tiles, “but you’re under it. You’re buried in there so deep it’s like I was born with you in my soul.” His eyes slowly ignited as he slid soapy hands over her hips. “When I’m near you I’m consumed by you—your smile, your eyes, your heart. Even though we’ve never been together, you’ve always been mine, and even if I never get to keep you, you’ll still be mine.” Ryan grabbed her hands and put them on his chest, sliding them down the muscled ridges until she circled him with her hands. He was hard again; she could feel the blood pulsing through him. He put a hand over hers. “This is how much I want you, and you didn’t force that. I’ve always wanted you and I’ll never stop wanting you.”
A bittersweet ache welled in her chest. How was it possible to feel so much heartbreak and so much love at the same time? The warring emotions were a force, slamming into her, tangling together until she was lost. “Ryan, I—”
“Don’t say anything.” Ducking his head, his lips hovered over hers, waiting.
Breathing quietly against his mouth, she leaned in hesitantly and kissed him. She watched his eyes flutter closed at the soft, delicate touch.
He sucked in a sharp breath as she stroked the hard length of him with both hands. “Is this what you want?” she whispered against his lips.
Ryan kissed her, moaning into her mouth as she stroked him again, up and down, gentle and firm. “Yes,” he breathed.
He pressed his hands flat on the tile above her shoulders, his hips moving in time with her hands.
Fin moved her lips down his neck, his body shivering as she continued her fiery path until her knees hit the shower floor. His dark eyes flickered open, watching her intently. Leaning forward, she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around him.
“Baby,” he choked out. Bracing his forearm against the wall, Ryan buried his face in it, shuddering as her mouth and hands moved over him.
His other hand buried itself in her hair, and too soon, he was tugging at the wet strands. “Stop.”
Ryan gripped beneath her shoulders and yanked her up. He kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting wildly into her mouth as he slid a hand between her thighs. “Need you.”
“Now,” she told him.
“You ready for me?” She clutched at him when he buried his fingers inside her.
“Oh God,” she moaned as he slid them out and back in again. Fin pressed her face into his shoulder and bit him softly. Using his free hand, he reached up and pinched her nipple, rolling it in his fingers as his tongue swiped a path along her lips. He was everywhere, his hands, his tongue, his scent. She was drowning in him. “Ryan
, please.”
He pulled away. “Turn around.”
She turned blindly, giving him her back.
“Brace your hands against the wall and lean forward.”
“Ryan?”
“You can trust me, Fin.”
Fin nodded. She’d never trusted anyone more than she did Ryan. When she did as he asked, he grabbed her hips, yanking her back further. One hand fell away, and then he was there and pushing inside her. A moan broke free and she didn’t even know if it was him or her.
With both hands back on her hips, he slid all the way in. “Oh fuck,” he breathed. “My beautiful Fin.”
She wriggled against him, so he pulled out and pushed back in again.
“You good?”
“Mmm,” she moaned. Better than good. Ryan brought her alive. “Harder.”
Ryan complied until she thought her hands would give out, but when he reached around between her thighs and rubbed hard, it was her entire body that gave out. His name was wrenched from her lips as she gasped for air, and his arm wrapped around her ribs, holding her up.
“Fuck,” he shouted hoarsely as he slammed into her one last time, his chest heaving. He ground his hips as he shuddered against her.
Jake turned around and looked at Ryan with narrowed eyes, thick red blood pouring down his neck and soaking his shirt. Raising his arm up, he aimed his gun right at Ryan’s heart and said, “It should have been you, Kendall, not me. I had everything to live for. You had nothing.” His voice was cold and biting, the smile on his face as he pulled the trigger sending icy shivers through Ryan’s body.
Heart thundering in his chest, Ryan woke up sweaty, his body trembling.
“Goddammit,” he muttered, swiping a hand across his face. He looked over at Fin, her breathing was deep and even, her cheeks flushed.
He pressed a hand over her heart, feeling the steady thump beneath his fingers, letting it calm him.
Sensing his touch, she rolled over, one long leg sliding out to rest above the sheet. Her ribs stuck out, her collarbone sharp, and it broke his heart. He’d forced her to eat a sandwich last night before they fell into bed, exhausted. Yet despite being wrung dry, Ryan still struggled finding sleep. What was he still doing here? He would only be leaving again soon. He had to leave. Now more than ever. Jake didn’t die so that Ryan would give up. Was Fin supposed to happily wave him back off to Afghanistan so soon after losing Jake? And what if he didn’t come back? Could he do that to her?
Fuck no.
Fin was right. They kept going around in circles, and it was slowly shredding him into tiny pieces. How much longer could they keep doing this?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he eased his way out of bed in the early light and dressed quietly.
As he left the bedroom, Crookshanks head-butted his leg, growling his hungry demands. With the cat fed, he pulled the front door shut behind him. Even with the soft light, he hid his eyes behind sunglasses as he strode towards the gleaming, black mustang.
Ryan pulled the keys from his pocket.
“Coward,” came the soft whisper in his ear.
He froze, icy tendrils curling around his spine.
“Jake?” he croaked.
Ryan spun around but no one was there.
Christ. He was fucking losing it.
He reached for the door handle.
“Is this how you take care of my sister after I leave? Fuck her and sneak out?”
The voice whipped coldly around him, everywhere, but … nowhere.
Ryan swallowed, his eyes burning. “Fuck. Don’t. I can’t do this.”
He swung the door open as he slid inside. He put the key in the ignition and started the car, hearing it come to life with a deep, throaty growl.
“Look at you. Your hands are shaking.”
His eyes fell to the hand that trembled on the gearstick.
“Damn you, Jake. Stop screwing with my head,” he said loudly. He shifted into reverse and let out the handbrake.
“You didn’t read my letter.”
The envelope still sat unopened on the passenger seat, taunting him with its plain white disguise, masking words he knew he couldn’t yet read.
Unease rolled through him. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Close your eyes, Kendall.”
His jaw clenched as he fought back tears, but he closed his eyes anyway.
“Now picture a world without Fin.”
“Oh God,” he moaned, burying his head against the steering wheel. His stomach lurched at the thought of her gone like Jake was.
“Good. Now where are you in that picture?”
His eyes moved rapidly behind closed lids, searching, but there was nothing but black, empty space. He wasn’t there.
“What do you see?”
“Nothing,” he whispered hoarsely. “Without her there I’m nothing.”
A chuckle echoed softly around the inside of his car. “Bingo.”
Blinking sore, gritty eyes, the ceiling came into focus. Rolling over, Fin saw the empty space beside her and she slumped back on the bed. When loud buzzing registered from outside, she clutched the sheet to her chest and stretched up to peer out the window.
Ryan was mowing her lawn. He paused, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow, baring taut, tanned skin to her gaze. Scrambling from the bed, Fin tugged on a singlet and panties and made her way from the bedroom.
Her eyes swept the living room. No evidence of her violent outburst from yesterday afternoon remained. A sharp pang swept through her at the empty bookshelves. Books, she reminded herself. They’re just books.
Going to the kitchen, she grabbed a spoon and reached for Crookshanks’ breakfast from out of the fridge. Usually he was twining himself around her legs right now—where was he?
Frowning, she turned, her eyes finding him sitting outside in the morning sun, licking the length of his leg as though he’d already eaten.
The front door clicked and Ryan strode down the hallway, bringing the scent of freshly cut grass with him. His eyes were tired, his body sweaty.
Fin narrowed her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His brows flew up. “Excuse me?”
“Mowing my lawn?”
Ryan rubbed his forearm across his brow, wiping away the sweat. “It was overgrown. It would’ve died off if you’d left it any longer.”
“So what? Everything dies sooner or later, right?”
Oh God, stop.
But she couldn’t. It felt like she was standing outside of her body watching a train wreck before her very eyes.
“Feeding me, my cat, cleaning my house, my yard. It’s mine. My house.” Her voice rose along with her anger. “And you’re not my friend. You’re Jake’s!”
Hurt flashed across his face, and her stomach pitched feverishly, unable to control the venom spewing from her mouth.
He nodded, his jaw tight. “You think I’m trying to take over?”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Ryan, but whatever it is, don’t. I don’t need you coming here and thinking you have to take care of me because Jake died. Don’t think that you owe it to him.”
Ryan’s eyes flashed angrily at her words. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?” she shouted.
A beat of silence passed as his eyes locked on hers.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Fin’s heart tugged painfully. “I don’t need you, Ryan,” she said wearily. “And I don’t want you here. You should leave.”
He stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. “You want me to leave?”
Damn you, Ryan. I’d take you, Army and all, even knowing you might not come back just like Jake, but you won’t let me have you, so yes, I want you to leave.
But she didn’t say any of that. She couldn’t choke the words out. Instead, she nodded wordlessly.
He turned around and strode back out the door, slamming it hard
behind him. She flinched, and soon after Fin heard the deep rumble of his car start up. Eventually the noise faded, replaced with a silence that had her ears ringing and the red haze of anger lifting.
What did she just do?
Stupid girl!
She rushed to her room, scrambling for her phone on the bedside table. With frantic fingers, she fumbled over the keypad until she found Ryan’s name. As the phone rang, she started pacing, one hand pressed to her forehead.
It rang endlessly until his voicemail answered.
Dialling, she tried again.
“No,” she whispered, her stomach rolling when it rang out again.
The beep came through loud and clear to leave a message.
“Ryan? I didn’t mean it,” she choked out. “I’m sorry.” She sank to the floor. “I don’t know why I’m so angry. Please come back,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”
She sat on the couch in the living room all day long, but he never returned her call, and he didn’t come back.
Rachael dragged Fin out of the dressing room and stood her before the mirror. Fin swept her eyes over her reflection as techno music pounded heavily through the store. The short gold skirt, the slinky black top cut so low there was no way a bra could be worn—it wasn’t her.
“It’s not me,” she announced, tugging the top up to cover a bit more of her chest.
Rachael tweaked it so it fell back down and looked at her in the mirror. “Stop fussing with it. Double sided tape will hold it in place. And exactly. It’s not you. That’s the point. You’re living in a bubble of grief. Tonight you can be someone else. You need that, Fin.”
She needed Ryan. Nothing else. Just him, but two weeks and she’d heard nothing. It didn’t surprise her. He’d told her he’d always wanted her, that he would never stop wanting her, and the next morning she’d thrown it in his face because for one blinding moment she thought he was there as an obligation to Jake, and it had hurt. Who could blame him for staying away?
“I’m not sure I can go out tonight, Rach.”
Fighting Redemption Page 11