I glance down the hall. Now Ihaveto go check on him. Well, as soon as I finish the code to search property records in a five square mile radius of that intersection.
* * *
“There you are,”I mutter to the laptop when one of my searches spits out the addresses of two buildings owned by the same company. I recognize the name as one of the nonsense words Zion left in the margins on the page where Harry finds the Sorcerer’s Stone.
Shoving to my feet, I snag Ryker’s t-shirt from the pile of our discarded clothes and tug it over my head. It smells like him, and need twists my insides into a knot. If only anger wasn’t simmering under my skin. He’s been in the back room for an hour. I think he’s working out, because I hear grunts and heavy breathing as I pad down the hall.
He’s doing push-ups again. Holy roses. I could watch him for hours. The way the muscles of his back cord and flex as he presses his arms straight. And those arms. So strong, his tattoos almost come alive. As he moves, the skull tattooed on his back seems to watch me, the serpents winding through empty eye sockets slithering down his sides to wrap around his obliques.
“Ry?”
He jerks, pushes to his feet, and turns. The haunted emptiness is back in his prismatic eyes, and if I weren’t so mad at him, I’d wrap my arms around him and demand he talk to me. But my anger flares, especially with his scent lingering on my skin, and his narrowed gaze at my attire.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
“Your powers of observation are top notch, soldier. Next, you’ll tell me I have red hair. Or that you’re hiding out in here to avoid talking to me.”
Regret twists his lips into a frown, and he rubs the back of his head. “I…needed to clear my head.”
Fluttering my fingers over my bracelet, I swallow the lump in my throat. “Just what a woman wants to hear when she wakes up alone after a night of…whatever the horse-pucky we did.”
“Horse-pucky?” With a shake of his head, Ryker snorts. “Where do you come up with this shit?”
“If you’re ever willing to have a real conversation with me, I’ll tell you. Until then, I’m keeping my secrets.” I hug myself tightly as I back out of the room. “I’m going to take a shower. I sent the addresses of a couple of buildings that might belong to Kolya Yegorovich to your phone. Thought you’d want to check them out while I get to work on the traffic cameras.”
Stalking down the hall to the bathroom, I blow out a deep breath. “Damn you, Ryker McCabe. Why won’t you just let me in?”
* * *
Ryker
Fuck. The sight of her in my shirt left me speechless, and now she’s upset with me. I don’t blame her. Leaving her sleeping this morning? I didn’t have a choice. In a few hours, she broke through all of my defenses. And when I was buried deep inside of her, something in me cracked in two.
Outside the bathroom door, I pause, my hand on the knob. I should turn around. Go back into the empty back room and push myself through another hundred crunches. If I weren’t worried about being seen, I’d go out for a five-mile run.
But…that would leave Wren alone. Unprotected. If this Yegorovich asshole weren’t after her, I’d take her with me everywhere. Then again, if she were safe, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.
I need air. Wearing only a pair of loose shorts, I’m ill prepared for the elements, but I head for the back stoop. Times like these, I wish I still smoked, but I gave that shit up years ago. Fifteen months of my captors stubbing their cigarettes out on my chest, forearms, and inner thighs cured me of any cravings. The frigid spring air prickles along my skin, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck. The sun filters through the trees, shadows dancing along the still-snowy landscape. Out here, I can breathe again.
And of course, all I can see when I close my eyes is Wren wearing my shirt. How the black cotton clung to her ass. The way her hips swiveled as she marched down the hall. The twin points of her nipples hardening as I stared her down.
Goddammit. I can’t let her think I don’t care.
Still, I take the time to check and double-check the locks before I head down the hall to the bathroom. The shower runs, and steam fills the room as I push my way through the door.
Training taught me to move silently. To enter rooms without making a sound. To temper my footsteps. To glide, even when my muscles are screaming at me.
Fuck me. She’s…singing.The sweet, light words of some musical I vaguely remember from my youth. Mesmerized, I watch as she moves behind the frosted glass door. When her fingers sink into her hair, the position highlighting her breasts and the curve of her ass, my cock stands at attention. Whatever I did, I have to fix it. Because if I don’t get my hands on her again, right now, I’m going to explode. In more ways than one.
Shedding my shorts, I slide the door open. Her voice rises at the end of the song, and…shit. She doesn’t know I’m here. But, I can’t retreat now. I’m committed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I hold on tight when she yelps. “Snack cakes!”
“I’d rather eatyouthan a Twinkie, little bird.” Closing my teeth over the shell of her ear, I let my hand trail lower. Down the patch of trimmed reddish curls to her slick folds. When I slip a finger inside her, she shudders, her head falling back against my chest. “What do you want?”
“You…”
I kiss her shoulder, all the way up the curve of her neck, and score my teeth along the sensitive skin. “You taste like honey, sweetheart. Honey and…”
Hope.
