The tension builds into a crushing feeling.
“What if I don’t save them, Ryder?” My whisper’s so low I’m not sure he heard me. His step mother’s empty eyes flash through my mind. “What if my power gets the best of me and I cause more damage than I do good?”
Closer he scoots until his body is wrapped around mine. His arms hold me to his chest once more.
“I won’t let that happen. Darrio and Dax would never let that happen to you.”
To me. Not the mortals. He’s worried about me.
His promising tone does something to me. It sinks right into my core, making me shift against his body.
My fingers trace up the cut lines of his hard chest. The smooth muscles tense beneath my light touch.
If I tipped my head up right now, would he kiss me?
My tongue rolls across my lower lip as my thighs rub together beneath the cool sheets.
I close my eyes slowly before lowering my head into his shoulder, very deliberately away from his full lips.
“Goodnight, Ryder,” I whisper against his neck.
The rumbling sound of his throat clearing tingles through me.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
***
It’s hard to tell when the sun rises. The darkness in the room is just as dense as it always is. Two things tell me it’s time to get up. The neighbors in the room above ours sound like they’re running laps around the room with shoes made of cement blocks. And the other thing …
Ryder’s dick grinds against the curve of my ass. My lips part with a heavy breath and for a second, I just lie completely still. Okay, that’s a lie. My hips shift against him, his fingertips digging into my hip as he holds me tighter. Heat pools between my legs as I think about what he’d feel like there. Thick and hard.
My eyes fling open and I crawl quietly from the bed. With a groan he rolls over, taking up all of the space but not noticing my absence.
I pull on my jeans without waking him, stumbling through the dark a few times before slipping out into the hallway.
I need some air. I need space away from him and his sweet demeanor. His comforting arms.
Space. Yes, space is good.
Nodding to myself, I jog down the metal hall. It’s open and rickety. The thin metal sways beneath my steps and if it snapped in half I’d go falling three stories down to the crowded bar below. That thought doesn’t slow my pace.
The rusted stairs bang loudly beneath my boots as I storm down to the smell of hot food.
Gods above, is that bacon?
Mmm, bacon sounds fantastic right now.
And coffee. Lots of coffee.
When I step up to the long, glossy bar, Mesa isn’t there like she normally is.
What time is it?
A man with a shaved head and the mark of the Hopeless inked down the side of his skull greets me with an annoyed look. More black tattoos intricately weave down his forearm and for a second, I’m reminded of Darrio’s tattoos. My stomach sinks just thinking about him.
“What do you want?” he asks, drawing my attention back to him.
Mesa smiles at me from across the room as she speaks intensely with a familiar looking fae.Concord. Concord looks around his bar as he seems to lecture Mesa on something of great importance.
