“Every time I was getting together with friends, there were a few thoughts echoing through my mind from the moment I woke up:Would I get to see you? Would I get to hear your voice, listen to your ever-surprising wit?You were guarded as hell. You didn’t make getting to know you easy.”
She chuckled at that, a watery sound that twisted my heart.
“You’re the master of changing the subject, but I didn’t give up. Because I needed to learn everything about you, Faith. And the more I learned, the harder I fell. But the first time I kissed you? That’s when I was done for. Because I knew there were no other lips I ever wanted to touch except yours.”
Her eyes widened, lips parting.
“I went home that night, convinced I was going crazy. You can’t possibly fall that hard, that fast for someone. It makes no rational sense. Typical lawyer, I gave myself countless objections. But the jury of my heart just said,Nice try, Counselor.”
That earned me another watery laugh.
“The point is, I am falling for you, Faith. Hell, I think I already fell. Hard.” My voice roughened with emotion. “The reason it’s difficult for me to have conversations about the prospect of you going to prison is because I cannot imagine, cannot endure, the thought of not seeing you every day.”
I pulled her closer, one hand sliding into her hair, the other pressing against her lower back.
“Even if you don’t choose me. Even if you don’t feel the same about me as I feel about you, I need you, above all else, to be happy and safe. And you’ll be neither of those things if you go to prison.”
My throat tightened. “So, if this is the last thing I do on this earth, it’s to save you from that hell. Because losing you?” I shookmy head, the words barely making it past the knot in my chest. “That’s not an option I’m willing to consider.”
She stared at me, speechless, mouth slightly open. I expected her to run. That was a lot to hear, a lot to confess. But I guess when the rest of your life faces imminent danger, truth demands to be spoken.
The kitchen fell silent. Even Rainbow stopped eating to watch us, head tilted, like she was waiting for what came next.
Then, suddenly, Faith’s fingers fisted in my shirt. She yanked me down and crashed her mouth to mine—desperate, hungry, claiming.
And I was lost.
48
FAITH
I had never felt so loved in my entire life. Ryker saw me—really saw me—better than anyone ever had. The way his eyes tracked my every movement, how his breath caught when I smiled, the careful attention he paid to the smallest shifts in my mood. He studied me like I was his favorite book, one he’d never tire of reading.
Which made the crushing weight of heartbreak register fully for the first time. If I went to prison, I wouldn’t wake up to his face every morning. No more breakfasts like this one, sunlight streaming through his kitchen windows with Rainbow snoozing on the floor. No more watching him move through his morning routine, hair still mussed from sleep, that soft look in his eyes reserved only for these quiet moments. No more falling asleep, cradled in his arms, wrapped in his love.
My whole life had felt like a series of trials. But Ryker had just won the trial for my heart.
His fingers traced along my cheekbone with tender slowness, as if he were learning the geography of my face by touch alone. I leaned into his palm, feeling the slight roughness of calluses against my skin. Evidence of his strength, yet his touch remained impossibly gentle.
His tongue swept across my lower lip until I parted for him. His taste flooded my senses. Coffee and cinnamon from his favorite creamer, his breath mingling with mine as he took his time exploring my mouth with devastating thoroughness.
The kiss deepened. Slowed. Each stroke of his tongue against mine felt deliberate, purposeful, like he was trying to memorize the exact shape of my desire. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, following the delicate curve with exquisite care, then down the column of my throat. And everywhere he touched, my skin woke up. Not the gentle awakening of dawn, but the sudden blaze of lightning splitting open the sky.
His hand tightened in my hair, fingers weaving through the strands until he had a firm grip that sent sparks down my spine. He broke the kiss just long enough to look at me. His pupils were blown wide, nearly eclipsing the blues I loved. A flush painted his cheekbones, and his lips were swollen from our kiss. Whatever he saw in my face made something crack open in his expression.
“Faith.” My name came out raw. Broken. Like it had been ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.
Then his mouth was on mine again, harder this time. Hungry. His teeth caught my bottom lip, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hands mapped my body, palms skating over my ribs, fingertips pressing into the dip of my waist, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts through my shirt. His hands slid down my sides, gripping my hips, his fingers splaying wide, as if he needed to touch as much of me as possible, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, a wild rhythm that matched my own racing pulse. I could feel the restraint fracturing in the way his breathing turned ragged. Each exhale came out harsh, almost pained, like holding back was physically hurting him.
I didn’t realize we were moving until my back hit the wall. The cool drywall against my heated skin made me gasp.
He pinned me there with his body, the solid weight of him pressing me into the wall until I could feel every hard plane of hischest, the flex of his thigh muscles as he shifted closer. One hand braced beside my head, the other still tangled in my hair. His lips left mine to trail down my jaw, each kiss deliberate and scorching, leaving a path of fire in its wake.
“I can’t lose you.” The words were barely audible, spoken against my throat between kisses that turned fiercer, more demanding. “I won’t.”
My fingers found the hem of his shirt and yanked upward. The fabric caught on his shoulders, and we both fumbled, desperate and clumsy with need. He pulled back just long enough for me to strip it off, revealing the expanse of his chest, all golden skin and defined muscles covered in tattoos. His hands were on my shirt, tugging it over my head with a force that made the fabric tear slightly at the seam, followed by my bra. Neither of us cared. Not when every second of separation felt like agony.
He stepped back just enough to look at me, his gaze traveling over my body with such intensity, I felt it like a physical touch. My skin flushed under his scrutiny, nipples tightening.
