Burn

by Jenny Lyn

  Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Have a good night then.”

  “You, too.”

  Tate hung up and dropped her phone into her pocket, feeling almost as lost as the day Ryan disappeared. She shivered from a gust of chilly air and hugged her arms closer around her waist. Could she do this, let him back in? Did she want to risk it after how badly it had devastated her before when it all ended so abruptly? Was she being too hard on him and herself? After all, it could be great again, amazing even. But trust was a hard thing to rebuild once it had been shattered like a house of glass.

  When Tate reached the sliding doors to reenter the hospital, she realized she’d made another mistake where Ryan and her resistance were concerned—he now had her phone number.

  ****

  Ryan had Wednesdays off. It had been two days since Tate had called, and he was growing antsy. The more time he let pass between contact, the more momentum he lost in his fight to get her back.

  He’d held off on sending her anything last night because he didn’t want to press his luck too much. And besides that, he’d heard something in her voice on the phone that had sounded an awful lot like sadness near the end of their conversation. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her more.

  So he’d formulated a plan, a last ditch effort to try to see her face to face. He had a hunch he wanted to explore. Tate might put up a solid self-protective front, even more so when there was distance between them, but she was still attracted to him physically. The kiss they’d shared in the parking garage had proven they still had that connection, and he wasn’t above exploiting it.

  His idea was sneaky and could backfire, or it could be the catalyst to a resolution between them. If she still resisted, he would back off. Not give up, but give her the space and time to decide what she wanted. It would kill him, now that he’d seen her, touched her, tasted her again, but he would. And if she decided she didn’t want him back in her life, he’d have to live with that, too.

  Grabbing his phone before he could change his mind, he typed out a text.

  “You working today?”

  It felt like an hour before his phone beeped with her response. “No. Doing laundry. Why?”

  “I think my arm might be getting infected.”

  “Describe it.”

  “Red. Hot. Swollen.” Thank you, WebMD. “Should I go back to the ER and have it checked out?”

  Another full minute before she responded. And he realized too late she could say all sorts of things. Things like “take a picture of it and send it to me”, or “yes, go to the emergency room now!” or “I hope your arm rots off for what you did to me, you asshole”.

  But she didn’t.

  “Give me your address.”

  Either she’d seen through his ruse and was coming over to give him what for in person, or she was genuinely concerned and willing to make a house call. Whatever it was, he had his opportunity so he typed out his address and hit Send.

  “Be there in 20.”

  Ryan raced around the apartment, cleaning, hiding dirty clothes in his closet, and pretentiously sticking a nice bottle of wine in the fridge to chill before taking a quick shower. He had just finished redressing the burn on his arm and pulling on a pair of clean jeans when his doorbell rang.

  Sending up a quick prayer, he opened the door.

  Tate’s mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut. “Do you always answer the door without a shirt on?”

  “I had just stepped out of the shower when the doorbell rang.” He reached out and gently grasped her wrist, urging her inside. He shut the door behind her then leaned his back against it, blocking her from making a hasty exit. His conscience quickly got the better of him. “I lied to you about my arm.”

  Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How so?”

  “It’s fine. In fact, it looks great. Hardly even hurts anymore. I wanted an excuse to see you again.”

  And see her he did—the gorgeous face that haunted his dreams and those ruby lips that tasted better than the most decadent dessert he’d ever sampled. Her fiery hair tumbled down around her shoulders in soft, thick waves. She’d always cursed her coloring. Ryan loved it. He wanted to spread her out and worship that alabaster skin for days, kiss every tiny freckle he found.

  The loose jeans and pale blue oxford she wore only accentuated her slight build. She didn’t eat well, never had. She needed someone to help take care of her, make sure she ate a decent meal at least once a day. He could do that, if she didn’t kill him first.

  From the look on her face, she was about to.

  Chapter Four

  A small part of Tate wanted to kill Ryan for tricking her, just reach out and wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze the life right out of him.

  But the larger part of her, which unfortunately included the lady parts, wanted to touch him for other reasons, reasons that she suspected dictated her actions when she’d asked for his address rather than telling him to go back to the ER to be checked out. Besides, if he had truly been concerned about his arm possibly being infected, he wouldn’t have asked if she was working, he would’ve just gone to the hospital. Ryan valued his limbs too much to risk losing them to something like cellulitis or sepsis.

  So that made her almost as culpable as he was.

  She couldn’t concentrate while staring at him without a shirt on. His chest was too appealing and distracting. All bulgy solid muscle over thick bone, smooth tan skin, his areolas small and dark in … Holy crap, one of his nipples is pierced!

  Before Tate could stop herself, she’d reached for it as if it was some sort of intriguing abnormality. She had seen piercings on patients naturally, but never one she wanted to touch as badly as she did his.

  She didn’t even look up at his face for permission. When her fingers made contact with the small silver hoop, he flinched but didn’t move to stop her. She shifted closer then, running the tip of her finger around his nipple to watch it tighten, before she gave the ring a little indulgent tug.

  Ryan hissed through his teeth, and his hands shot out to capture her hips, pulling her flush to his body. The more she toyed with the jewelry, the stiffer his cock grew against her stomach and the harder his fingertips dug into her jean-covered skin. And she had to admit, she liked that she could cause that reaction in him with such a simple touch. Feeling it made her wonder about something else, though.

  “You didn’t pierce your…” Tate licked her lips, inexplicably shy with her words all of a sudden. Her eyes jumped up to his.

  “My cock?” He grinned. “No. I’m not that brave.”

  “Or crazy. I’ve seen horror stories, trust me on that.”

  “I can imagine. This was a drunken impulse four years ago.”

  She continued to finger the jewelry. “If you take it out, the hole will grow up.”

  “I started to, but then … I kind of got used to it.”

  Tate gave it another tug, causing him to make a soft grunting noise in his throat. “And there’s a direct correlation between the nerves in the nipple and the nerves in the genitals.”

  Ryan laughed, pressing his erection against her stomach. “No kidding, Doc. I’m rock hard. ‘Course a lot of that has to do with the company.”

  Tate had opened this door by touching him so intimately, and she was about to step through it. There was no denying she wanted him. Giving in to that desire might not be the smartest thing she’d ever done, but this was Ryan. They had a history, even though the last chapter was depressing. There was no question sex with him would be amazing. She’d worry about the ramifications later. For once, she wanted to act rash and bold and selfish.

  She replaced her finger with her mouth on his nipple. Ryan groaned, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of her head and hold her close. She circled the small bud with the tip of her tongue before catching the metal between her teeth. Pulling it into her mouth, she sucked hard.

&nb
sp; The hand in her hair tightened, his hips bucking instinctively. “Fuck, Tate. You’re killing me.”

  She slid her palm across the front of his jeans, framing the impressive bulge with her fingers, feeling him harden even more beneath her touch. He let her explore, re-familiarize herself for a moment while she continued to torment that tasty pierced nipple. Before she knew what hit her, he had her back pressed against the door and her arms pinned above her head, both of her wrists in one of his big hands.

  His mouth covered hers. Tate whimpered at the thorough domination of Ryan’s kiss. No one had ever kissed her the way he did. Like he couldn’t get enough of her taste. Like her mouth belonged to him. Her tongue met his in a sweet, slick dance of heat before he eased away to explore the column of her throat. Meanwhile his free hand worked the buttons from their holes down the front of her shirt. Cool air met her bared skin as Ryan impatiently shoved the material out of his way to skim his lips across the crest of each lace-covered breast. His hot breath seeped through the thin fabric, tightening her nipples.

  He turned her wrists loose and hit his knees, fingers going to the fastener on her jeans. His motions were urgent and a bit clumsy, but that only seemed to add to the frenzy building inside her body. Her skin felt hot and too tight as he worked her jeans and panties down her legs. She started to step out of them before she realized she still had her shoes on.

  “Shoes,” she said impatiently.

  Wasn’t she the bossy, wanton hussy tonight, coming to his apartment, knowing inevitably that this was how things were going to go between them? Because no matter how many times she tried to lie to herself and say sex wasn’t the reason she’d dropped everything and rushed over here, it was the possibility of this that had done it. Her body had known the truth, even if her brain wanted to deny it.

  Ryan pushed each shoe off and finished removing her jeans and panties. Tate shucked her shirt, tossing it on the growing pile on his foyer floor.

  His hands coasted up her thighs, making her shiver. They made their way around to her ass where he gave a little jerk, dislodging her from her post against the door. His ready mouth waited when she tipped towards him. Ryan buried his face between her thighs, unabashedly nuzzling her pussy. He murmured words Tate couldn’t make out over the buzzing in her bloodstream.

  She tunneled her fingers through his hair to hold him close and shifted her stance a little, giving him free access to whatever he wanted to explore with that sinful mouth. He parted her labia with his fingers then plunged his tongue through the slick valley he created. Tate moaned, her head tipping backwards to hit the door with a soft thump.

  Pleasure spread through her core and up into her breasts as he teased her clit in long, slow, agonizing strokes. She wanted it faster, harder, but if she made any sort of demand, Ryan would only use it as an excuse to torture her more. Not that what he was currently doing was true torture. Oh no, definitely not that. There was nothing cruel about the way he used his agile tongue. Nothing tortuous about the way he lazily coaxed her body toward climax.

  One long finger slid inside her, easing the achy emptiness there. Her pussy clenched eagerly around the intrusion. He looked up at her and smiled, his mouth shiny with her juices. It was such an erotic sight, her knees nearly buckled from the onslaught of raw lust.

  “I missed this, Tate.”

  Her heart did a funny little dance, similar to the one it had performed when she’d spotted his flowers. God, so have I. The only thing she could do was nod in agreement because her throat had something thick and solid clogging it up.

  Ryan dipped his head, covering her with his mouth again. Her hips bucked when he circled her clit with his tongue. Languor suddenly replaced with purpose, his hand tightened on the cheek of her ass, forcing her to hold still for his direct assault on the swollen, sensitive flesh.

  Everything between her hipbones grew taut as a bowstring. Her nipples tingled beneath the silk cups of her bra. Tate shoved her fingers beneath the silk fabric and gave herself a hard pinch. When Ryan pushed two fingers deep inside her and closed his lips around her clit in a hard suck, she shattered, rocking against his face while he continued to relentlessly push her orgasm to near pain.

  Panting, her back now pressed flush to the door, Tate fluttered open her eyes to see him shucking his jeans. His cock arced toward his stomach proudly, and all she could think about was reciprocating, tasting him, wrapping her hands around his length and taking him deep into her mouth. Instead, he slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up.

  Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, Tate kissed him, taking her time to get fully reacquainted with the depths and contours of his sublime mouth. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself she’d missed his kisses, his touch, his everything. Feeling them all again only drove that realization home, followed by a sharp stab of discomfort. What she would do with that information she didn’t know, but right now wasn’t the time to consider it. Later. Maybe.

  Ryan carried her through his apartment, down a hallway, into a darkened bedroom. The bed was mussed, the room cool. Those sheets would smell like him. The thought made her shudder in his arms.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  Tate shook her head.

  He laid her back on the bed, but didn’t follow her down with his body. He helped rid her of her bra, tossing it behind him to the floor. Holding himself above her on his hands, he regarded her thoughtfully. “Did that orgasm steal your voice?”

  “No,” she said hoarsely.

  “Then why so quiet? It’s disconcerting.” His eyes did that attractive crinkly thing in the corners as he teased her.

  Tate reached up to touch his mouth. “I’m apt to say something completely unlike me during times like these.”

  Beneath her fingers, his lips curved. “I remember.”

  “Do you, Ryan?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her fingertips, then left her for a moment to fish a condom out of a box in his nightstand drawer. An unopened box, she noted, and it gave her a silly selfish thrill. As soon as he had it on, he crawled over her body, urging her with his to scoot further across the bed. “I remember everything.”

  Oh no. This was going to rattle her foundation, the things he would say.

  He positioned himself between her thighs, sliding a hand over her hip and up her ribcage, the look on his face almost reverent as he considered her body. “Your sounds and tastes and smells. Little things like how much you love strawberry jelly on saltine crackers. The way you play with your hair when you get engrossed in a good book. How you write out those long to-do lists, then never do anything on the list.”

  “I stopped doing that,” she said. The fact that he really did remember such tiny, insignificant things made her heart ache.

  His cock nudged her entrance, igniting a tiny fire. “I still remember how you looked the first time we made love, all wide-eyed wonder and flawless skin.”

  Tate turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, but Ryan wouldn’t let her escape the bittersweet memories. He caught her jaw in his palm and kissed her hard. When he finally pushed inside of her, her eyes fluttered open to catch his. Oh yes, she remembered this, too, just how great they were at sex, how perfectly they fit together, how wonderful it felt.

  “How could I forget this, Tate? How could I forget any of it?”

  She didn’t answer because she couldn’t. He’d trapped her beneath him and assaulted her with sweetness and desire and memories. And just as if it had been yesterday, it all came flooding back. He was making a point, she knew, proving that time hadn’t dulled the deep connection they’d once had.

  When Ryan began to rock into her body, pleasure speared through her, and Tate’s mind emptied.

  ****

  Ryan had to struggle to keep his body focused on taking things slow. Inside his chest, his heart hammered with relief.

  Tate might still be angry about the past, but she wanted this whether she would admit it or not. Like him, she was u
nable to deny the pull between them, the physical attraction. Yeah, what he’d done to get her here was a tad devious, but the important thing was he’d been right. She still desired him just as much as he did her. As long as he could remind her of that, the rest would follow suit, hopefully.

  The warm clasp of her body brought him back from the dark, worrisome corners of his brain. The sweet smell of her skin, the silken glide of it beneath his hands. The soft raspy whimpers escaping her throat. He catalogued it all. She was his again, and even if it only lasted for an hour, he’d take it.

  He thrust his hips, burying himself deep inside her snug, wet warmth. Slowly he withdrew, then watched desire slacken her features as he plunged back in. Her kiss-bruised lips were slightly parted and damp, and her soft panting breaths warmed his throat.

  Ryan could feel her entire body winding tighter and tighter. Her fingernails dug into his flanks, and her thighs clenched around his waist, her climax nearing its breaking point. He was close too. Too close. He’d rather this last all night, but that wasn’t going to happen, not with the way she looked and felt and sounded. Not with the taste of her still clinging to his lips. Not with the way his body reacted to hers, greedy and impatient.

  The pebbled tips of her breasts grazed his chest. He dipped his head and took one into his mouth, sucking firmly, laving her with his tongue, before using his teeth in a hard scrape. Her back arched in a silent plea for more, so he switched to the other nipple, showing it the same fervent attention.

  “God, Ryan.”

  A little fissure of excitement raced up his spine behind her words. Urgency prodded him to speed up, yet Ryan fought it off as long as he could. He worked his hand between their sweat-dampened bodies and found her swollen clit with his thumb, applying firm pressure as he worked her in small circles.

  One hand flew up to grasp the back of his neck while the other fisted the sheet. Tate’s chin tipped back, exposing the long line of her pale throat. Her eyes slid closed, and she groaned deeply. Her pussy clenched around his driving cock. Incredible sensation caused white spots to dance in the periphery of his vision. Ryan gave up the fight to hold his own orgasm at bay, following her over the edge.