Ryan goes still, his breath tight in his chest. “Tess, does he know where you are?”
“No.”
He steps closer, leaving the support of the dresser. “But can he track your phone to Jacksonville? Because if he can track your phone to Jax, the Prices will be the first place he looks for you. He knows about your friendship with Doc, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, he knows.”
He lets out a breath, glancing around the trappings of Ilmari’s minimalist bedroom. “You shouldn’t stay here. We need to get you situated somewhere else. Somewhere he wouldn’t think to look. You could go stay at my house,” he offers quickly. “I can give you the keys.”
I blink back the sharp sting in my eyes, trying to flash Ryan an unconcerned look. “So, what, are you secretly a cop or something?”
“No,” he replies. “But my dad was until he had to medically retire. Some of his buddies were always around when I was growing up to…you know…be around,” he finishes with a shrug.
I don’t miss his use of the word was. A father’s friends forced to step in and help raise a young man? I’m sure there’s a sad story there.
He turns away like he’s about to leave.
“Ryan—wait,” I call, getting to my feet.
He stops at the door and glances over his shoulder.
I cross the room over to him. “Where are you going?”
“To get you my keys,” he replies.
I reach for his arm. “Don’t,” I say. “It’s late already. And I don’t want to go to some strange house and stay there all alone,” I admit. “I want to stay here…I want to stay with you.” I lower my gaze to where my hand is touching his bicep. The muscle underneath his T-shirt is corded and strong. I brush my hand down his arm to his elbow. Now I’m touching skin, my fingers grazing along the soft hairs of his forearm.
“Tess,” he groans, eyes shut as he holds still. “Please…”
“Am I safe with you, Ryan?” I step in closer until my peaked nipple grazes his elbow. I watch goosebumps shoot down his arm.
“Yes,” he says, voice tight.
I brush my lips against his shoulder in a featherlight touch as my fingers trail down his arm to his wrist. “Will you protect me, Ryan? Will you make me feel good?”
“Tess…”
“Tell me you don’t need it too,” I say, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. “Tell me, after the stress of the last few days, that you aren’t aching for some relief. Tell me you don’t want to feel something right now…just for a moment. Tell me—”
I don’t finish the words as he turns in my arms, our lips colliding in a fevered kiss. He claims all my air, opening my mouth and plunging in with his tongue. I nearly forgot how good he was at this. I want to savor him this time. I want to brand the memory of his kisses against my lips.
His crutch clatters to the floor. When we kissed before, I made him keep his hands behind his back. Now he’s got his hands on my shoulders, brushing up my neck to cup my face.
I arch into him. “Touch me. Please, God, finish what I started.”
My plea unleashes him. With a desperate groan, he digs one hand into my hair, tipping my neck back as he devours my mouth with kisses. His other hand follows the curve of my breast. He curses softly against my lips as he palms me, barely getting a handful.
“If I had to see you naked one more fucking time and not touch you, I was gonna die,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Touch me,” I order. “Ryan, please—touch me anywhere. Everywhere—”
I’m left panting for air as he drops his head down, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
“Oh god—” I cry, both my hands digging into his hair. I hold on as he flicks and teases with his tongue, driving me crazy. Meanwhile his left hand works my other breast, pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger.
My pussy is soaked. I can feel the heat growing between my legs. I’m desperate for more. I need friction. I need his warm tongue and fingers and the rub of his stubbled cheeks on my thighs. Fuck, I need him.
“Ryan,” I whimper. “I need…”
“Say it,” he says, his mouth still on my breast.
“I need it,” I beg, feeling incoherent as he winds me up tight. My whole body is shaking with anticipation and the aching desire to feel this release.
“Tell me.” He bites down on my nipple.
“Ahh—fuck—I need to come,” I cry out, my hands tightening in his hair. “Please, Ryan—please, baby, I need to come. I need to come so fucking bad,” I whine, pulling his face up and pressing his lips back to mine.