Chapter Thirteen Ryder
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder
Walk away. Walk the fuck away.
The command in my head did absolutely nothing to get me to move or for me to get a grip. Not with this woman smelling like clean soap and fresh linen, with those pouty lips and big brown eyes pointed at me.
“You want to kiss me?” The question was soft and sweet, like nectar of the gods.
Fuck yes I do. I didn’t give her my truth, though. I didn’t give her anything. Just kept hold of her wrist, willing myself to walk away but being completely unable to do so.
She was now my assignment. I’d vowed never to mix business with pleasure again after what happened with Lainey. Yet there I was, contemplating all the different ways I’d break that new rule, as well as the law, if it meant kissing this woman. Even just once.
That was what scared me. I needed to pull myself together. Control-override. Focus up.
“Are you going to answer me?” she whispered.
I dropped my gaze to where I held her wrist, and when I didn’t speak—because I was still fighting the good fight to resist these odd feelings—she went ahead and did it for me.
“Look at you, being responsible and not taking what you want.” She lifted her brows twice, calling my bluff like I’d dared her to do in the Tahoe.
I brought her hand up to my mouth and dragged my lips along her knuckles. “I don’t take; I give.” My lips hovered an inch from her skin. “As much as I want to ... I won’t. Free will applies here.”
“But it doesn’t when it comes to my safety?” Despite the sass embedded in her tone, she shuddered. She couldn’t hide her body’s response to me any better than I could around her.
I straightened and let go of her, needing to stand my ground on this important point. “Correct.” I gestured to the bed with my head. “Try the sleep thing again before I forget I’m a gentleman and kiss that smart mouth of yours.”
Her eyes narrowed on my lips, taunting me to do exactly that. “What about my free will?”
I smiled, probably some smug, asshole-like grin. But fucking A. “That’d still apply, because you’d be the one begging me for it.”
“Oh, is that so?” She crossed her arms, and thank God for that, because if I had to see those perfect tits of hers straining against the fabric of that nightshirt any longer, I was going to be the one pleading on my hands and knees. I’d beg for whatever she’d give my poor, pathetic soul.
This woman was trouble. Far too much. And that made her dangerous.
“Yes,” I breathed out.
“Cocky much?”
“Honest. As already established.”
Now I had to back away from her. Go into the hallway.
Maybe choose a different door to stand in front of, like the main exit.
Space between us was needed. Hell, it was required if I planned to think clearly and find a path forward that made sense.
I just didn’t believe turning her over to DHS was the right decision.
“How much tequila did you have tonight?” I asked at the memory of that important detail, grateful my mind had thought of it before I made a mistake I couldn’t take back.
She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, stretching out the slender neck that I now wanted to kiss, too. “Enough to be a bit of a brat. Not enough that any decision I make with my body isn’t of my own making. So, somewhere in between a little and a lot.”
So, hands to myself no matter what. Understood. I was the first to break in our game of chicken and cut away from her. I started to turn, to retreat, but froze at the sight on her dresser.
I went over and picked up my dress shirt on top of a stack of her clothes. “You kept my shirt.” Holding it out, I faced her, shocked she hadn’t tossed it back at the storage center in Miami. “Why?”
She lowered her hands to her sides, giving me another view of her nipples piercing the fine material of her shirt. So much for being a legs man. Consider me obsessed with every part of this woman. Head to fucking toe.
Deciding to kill me even more, she lifted her hand up into her hair, which made her shirt go up to show more of her golden-tan thighs.
Tangling her fingers up in her wavy, brown hair should’ve been my job, right before making her come.
“It’s just a shirt. Don’t make a big deal of it.” Her defense was weaker than my self-control.
Realizing we were both hanging on the edge, that fine and very breakable line on the verge of snapping in half, I returned the shirt to her stack. Even folded it up. No point in talking more about it.
“Keep it.” The idea of her wearing my shirt and nothing else would live rent-free in my head for all of fucking eternity. “Get some rest. Maybe we’ll both feel better in the morning.”
“Maybe ice your face instead of sleeping outside my room? Or your right hand. Shoulder. Whatever hurts. You were in a fight.”
“Your concern for my well-being is confusing but appreciated.” I shook my head. “Also, not needed. I’m fine.” The only thing in need of icing was my erection.
“It shouldn’t be confusing.” Her cheeks puffed up with air before the breath softly whistled free.
“Maybe I’m more like you than you realize and I don’t have to know you to care about your safety.
That’s part of the reason I walked away from you in Miami.
I didn’t want anything to happen to you because of me. ”
“And the other part of why you left?” I went to the door and waited there for her answer. I refused to do something I’d regret, especially with her under the influence.
“I had a feeling you’d try and stop me from going after Ezra and his wife.”
“Wife, huh? I must’ve missed the memo his wife is—”
“Probably just as bad,” she finished for me. “Story for tomorrow.” She waved a hand between us. “The point is, I couldn’t let you stop me from getting my vengeance.” Her tone deepened as she added, “Just like I won’t let you stop me now.”