Page 78 of Reveal

Vaughn

I’ve thought about Ryker all shift.

How could I not?

Christ, he worked me up—in anger and arousal, so that the scent of sex is so strong I can smell it on my skin—and then left me high and dry and wanting.

But the thrill of anticipation trumps everything as I walk down the exit of Apropos.

The town car startles me at first. My thoughts veer to the senator, and fear has me thinking it’s him. But when Ryker opens the door and steps from it, I swear that every part of me clenches—chest, lungs, thighs, knees—at the sight of him.

He’s standing at the dimly lit curb, making it hard to read his expression. But his eyes—his eyes I can see. They glint through the darkness and are just as telling as the tension in his posture.

A small thrill reverberates through me with every step I take. This whole liking sex thing is still new to me, and yet each and every time we’re together, Ryker shows me a different side of him. Of it. And of us.

I stop when I reach him where he’s standing with his hand on the roof of the car. We share a look—one that is riddled with so much tension—before he glances toward the inside of the limo, telling me to get in without words.

And I do just that: slide into the limo with a glance back toward Ahmed—who’s watching us like a big brother on his little sister’s first date—and nod.

Ryker is beside me in an instant, the town car on the move as if the driver already knows our destination despite the privacy shield never being lowered, but he doesn’t say a word to me. He doesn’t even offer a glance my way. He just sits with his fingers tapping on his knee while his other hand runs over his jaw as the lights from the city around us glitter and glow.

“Is something wrong?”

He chuckles, but it’s strained. “Everything is wrong.” He lifts a glass to his lips and then looks at the ice in it rather than looking at me.

“What do you mean, everything is wrong?”

Where is the man from earlier? The one who waltzed in and has had me strung so tight, one touch and I’m going to snap?

He shakes his head and looks out the window. “I tried to work. I tried to figure shit out. I tried to do a million goddamn things, and fuck if it doesn’t help one iota.”

He’s not making sense. “What is it you need help with?”

“It’s nothing you can fix.”

“Ryker? Did something happen?” I reach for his hand, and he moves it the minute we touch.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “You.”

“Me?” I laugh and turn so that my knee is angled against the back of the seat, my other on the floor. It’s the first time he looks my way, down to the darkness between my thighs where my skirt has risen up with the motion, before finally meeting my eyes. “What the hell have I done to you?”

The muscle in his jaw pulses, and his hand flexes on his leg. “You’ve made me want you like I can’t fucking live if I don’t have you.”

And before his last word is finished, his lips are on mine in a kiss that bruises my mouth as much as his love has marked my heart. Unrelenting, unforgiving, and irrevocable.

“Fucking hell, woman,” he murmurs between licks and nips and kisses. “The shit you do to me isn’t legal.”

I chuckle with pride and then gasp when he lowers himself to his knees and buries his face in the V of my thighs. He makes a show of inhaling my panties, and I know damn well how wet I was when he left me earlier. The scent of my arousal is on them. From then. From now.

“Ryk,” I moan when his tongue licks a line up the seam of my panties to press against my clit in a pleasurable pressure.

“You.” He grabs both of my thighs and pulls me down some so I can spread my legs farther apart. “Fucking irresistible.” A flick of his tongue. “Your scent.” An audible inhale. “How wet you are.” The hook of his fingers to pull my panties to the side. “Christ.” His moan as his fingers dip into me. “Your taste.” The heat of his mouth as the barrier is gone and his mouth closes over me. “Goddammit, Vaughn.”

My hands grip in his hair. My hips buck up. My teeth bite into my bottom lip as Ryker takes his time showing me just what it’s like to be pleasured properly.

I lose all sense of my surroundings. The driver up front who can no doubt hear my moans. The people in the cars beyond the tinted windows. The honk of horns from the cars around us.

I lose sense of everything except for the man between my thighs.