Fuck.
“I was trapped in the car. We all were. It had gone off the road. Into the ditch. I called for my parents, but they were dead in the front seat. I didn’t realize that, you see. Six year olds don’t understand that their parents can be laughing and talking with them one moment and then just gone in the next instant. They also don’t understand that creeks can overflow far too fast and the water can rush into ditches and that it can destroy everything. Everything.”
“Simone…”
“So I just kept crying and screaming for them as the water rose. I couldn’t get out. It was on my ankles. Then my calves.” A shudder shook her body. “Then my knees. It was dark and thunder boomed constantly. The water rose higher, going for my waist. My chest. My…” Another shudder. “Will you just kiss me?”
“You got out of the fucking car.” She was there with him. Alive. Safe. Yet a dark, yawning fear lived and breathed inside of him because…
She could have died.
Years ago.
Long before their paths had ever crossed and she’d flashed him that fantastic grin of hers.
“I got out of the fucking car.” Brittle words. “They didn’t. After that night, there was no more family for me. No more Lucky the cat. No more happy endings. Just rain and endless storms to chase me forever.”
This was real. She was being real with him, and he desperately wanted to protect her. To promise her that he’d be her shelter in any storm. That he would give her anything. Everything. That he could be her family.
He was sinking, drowning, in her, and Ryan did not care.
“Now either kiss me or let me go,” Simone told him.
He’d never let go.
His mouth took hers. A savage need pounded through his veins, but the kiss was careful. Soft. Gentle. Soothing because he knew she needed soothing. He wanted to show her how precious she was. He wanted to show her that he could handle precious things. That he could be?—
“What in the hell is this?” she whispered. “Kiss me with your passion. Kiss me like you can’t wait to strip this wet blouse off me. Don’t kiss me like you pity me. Please don’t ever do that.”
His head lifted. “I do not pity you.”
Her chin notched up.
“I do not.” She needed to understand this. “I hate that you lost your parents. I am so damn sorry for what you had to endure. I feel grief for you, with you. I hurt with you.” He did. “You’re strong. You’re determined. You’re also kinda scary, in a way that I like. I admire the hell out of you. I will never pity you.”
“That is the sexiest thing a man has ever told me.” A quick inhale. “You think I’m scary? Truly?”
“Sweetheart, I think you’re hell on wheels, and I love that about you.” Love.
Fuck.
What. The…
Fuck?
It had just been an expression. Something people said. Hell on wheels was an expression. I love that about you…another expression. Casual expressions did not equal undying declarations.
Except the words felt like more. I love that about you almost felt like…I love you.
She was smiling at him again. Her big, beautiful smile. The one that made his heart race faster and made his whole world seem to realign so that she was his axis.
He kissed her again, unable to help himself. Ryan kissed Simone the way she’d wanted to be kissed. With passion. With the primitive need that surged through his veins. Like he couldn’t wait to strip that wet blouse off her. Like he couldn’t wait to claim her.
Her mouth opened wide beneath his. Her tongue met his. She moaned. He growled. He moved closer to her, pressing his body against hers. Feeling every single inch of Simone against him, but it wasn’t enough.
He wanted her naked. He wanted in her. But he was not taking her there. Not where agents and guards and tourists and who the hell else could pop out at any moment. He was not?—
Something blasted past the side of his right arm. He felt it rip across him like a hot burn a moment before…
