“Thanks for taking care of her,” I half-choke.
“No problem.” He grips my shoulder. “You want me to stick around?”
“No. We’re good.”
He turns and heads toward the exit and I pause, pressing my forehead to the door.
Christ.I almost lost her.
It’s impossible to steady myself. I’m twisted up like car wreckage.
I need to see her, but I’ve got to get my shit together first.
Fisting my hair, I pace the hallway. Once. Twice. Stopping by the door, I inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Slowly my blood simmers down.
I knock twice on the door, keeping the sound quiet. “Coming in.”
“Ryker?”
“It’s me, sweetheart,” I reply, raspy as hell, as I push the door open.
Jade leaps off the couch and runs to me. “Oh my god, it felt like forever.” The collision knocks me back a half-step as my arms lock around her.
Ragged sounds come from me as the reality of what just happened sinks in more.
The gun. June’s attack. How close that fucker got to her.
Feeling my control slipping, I capture her mouth, raggedly groaning into the kiss as I carry her to the couch.
We go down together, my body heavy against hers as I crush her into the leather. Not allowing an inch of space between us.
June circles in the middle of the floor, tail sweeping in wide arcs.
“Break. Go lie down.” I point to the corner. She trots over, drops, but keeps her nervous gaze locked on us.
“Now, where was I?”
“Right here. Loving me,” Jade murmurs, and her breath ghosts across my lips before I can finish the thought.
We find each other again with our lips and teeth. She melts at the soft pull of her lower lip between mine.
Neither of us comes up for air until we have to, and even then we linger, breathing against each other.
I pull back just enough to see her. Her lashes are still wet.
“Hey.” I cup her jaw, brush my thumb along her cheekbone. “You okay?”
She turns her face into my palm and presses her lips there. When she looks up, her expression softens. “I am now.”
“Dammit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
Her mouth stops mine. Her tongue strokes slow against mine, and her fingers slide into my hair, nails grazing my scalp.
She pulls back an inch, meeting my gaze.
“No more talking,” she whispers, “just feeling.”
