Ever’s eyes cut to mine, dark and steady. “He won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I broke his wrist.” The words come flat and certain. “And I tagged Nash the second I heard you scream. If that bastard circles back, he won’t make it ten feet.”
The answer should sound insane. Instead it locks into place.
My pulse still races, but it changes shape. I’m not safe. Not really.
But I’m safe enough to make a bad decision. I’m only sure of one thing, and it isn’t him. It’s a name. A body. A promise I came hereto keep.
But my pussy clenches anyway, wetness soaking through my panties, and the ache between my legs swallows everything else for one wild second.
I lift my chin. “I’m sure.”
“Fuck. Reva...” His voice drops into a rough rasp that tightens my skin everywhere.
I twist in his hold, planting both palms against the tree and arching back into him. “I need you inside me, Ever.” My voice shakes, but I force the words out anyway. “Please.”
It’s the only bend he’ll get from me.
The current between us turns violent.
Ever growls, low and wrecked, and his scent is everywhere—heat, sweat, soap, male. It fills my lungs and goes straight to my head. I glance back over my shoulder and catch his eyes on me, dark and intent and barely controlled.
“One warning.” His hand closes over the side of my neck, thumb pressing just enough to make me shiver. “We do this, you’re mine.”
I should fight that. I should laugh in his face.
Instead relief rolls through me when his hand drags down my spine. “Yes.”
I don’t even know what I’m agreeing to, not really. I only know I need the steadiness of his touch and the pressureof him at my back before the aftermath of that attack catches up and cracks me open.
And I’m tired of fighting.
He angles my hips, covers me with his body, hard and unyielding. My breath stutters.
“I want to sink into you,” he murmurs.
The words throb through me. Every time I move against him, he gets harder. His hands slide from my hips to my breasts, cupping, weighing, thumbs rough through my shirt. I close my eyes and roll back against him, chasing friction.
Ever hums low in his throat, but after one slow grind he stops me.
No.
This isn’t the position he wants.
He turns me to face him and presses my spine to the trunk. Bark catches through my shirt. His eyes drag over me, mouth set hard.
“Lose the pants.”
I open my mouth to say something smart and he answers with a warning sound in his throat that goes straight between my legs. Then his hands are on me—fast, efficient, tugging, yanking denim and pantiesdown together. He gets them past my boots and I’m suddenly standing there bare from the waist down, shirt rumpled, boots planted in dirt, thighs damp and trembling.
His gaze drops.
“Are you wet for me, firefly?”
Heat surges up my throat. Ever is usually so taciturn, but apparently sex makes him talky.
