The Darkest Touch

CHAPTER TEN

Angelique was so tired she couldn’t see straight.

Ryder had kept them moving, driving all night and well into the next day. She was tired of sitting in the car going nowhere, nodding off only to jerk upright and wonder where they were, how long she’d been asleep and how far they’d traveled. The island wasn’t that big. For all she knew they could be driving in circles. She wanted a shower and a bed.

“Ryder, please. I’m hungry. I’m exhausted and my back hurts. Just stop at a hotel so we can get a few hours’ rest.”

He glanced her way, and she must have looked pitiful enough, because he nodded. Within a half hour he had pulled into a coast-side motel and gotten them a room. They grabbed a quick bite at a small restaurant a short walk down the road. Her stomach full, the next objective was a shower and clean clothes.

Ryder unlocked the door, stopping her and making her wait outside while he inspected the room as if he expected to find demons lurking inside. Ha. He should have let her go in first. At this point she was a demon’s worst enemy. She’d have fought fiercely to the death for the rights to the shower and bed in that room. For some reason she found that visual amusing, no doubt due to her lack of sleep. Ryder motioned her inside. A tiny room, with a small double bed, crisp white sheets, and airconditioning. She breathed a sigh of relief. To her, it was a palace. She tossed her bag on the bed and went straight for the bathroom to turn on the shower, desperate to wash off the grit.

The steamy water felt magnificent. She could stay in there forever, but didn’t want to hog the shower, so she cleaned up and got out, grabbed a towel, and tucked it around her. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ryder stood at the window, peeking outside through a slit in the closed curtains.

“Any demons in the parking lot?” she teased.

He turned, glanced at her, then frowned. “You should get dressed.”

She didn’t, irritated and cranky and tired of taking orders from him. She sat on the bed. “I’m exhausted, Ryder. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

He turned back toward the window. “I’m fine.”

She stood and approached him, lifting on her toes to peer over his shoulder. “It’s almost dark again. You haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours.”

“I can handle it.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder, refusing to pull back when he flinched. “I can feel the tension in your body. You need to unwind a little. We’ll be okay.”

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve got to let go. If demons come, we’ll deal with it, but you have to rest sometime. If you don’t, you won’t do either of us any good. Now go take a shower, let the water relax your body.”

“That’s not what I need.”

“Then what do you need?”

“I need you to back away from me.”

“Why?”

It took him a few seconds to answer. “Because you smell good.”

She snorted. “That bothers you?”

“Yes.”

Ah. Now she understood. Suddenly the room seemed smaller, and her body grew warmer. She should step away and give him some space, but something stopped her. Instead, she squeezed his shoulder, felt the muscles there coil up.

“I’m warning you, Angie. Back off.”

He was exhausted and on the edge. So was she. And she sensed he really didn’t want her to back off, even though the warning tone in his voice said so. But was he trying to push her away, or was he trying to tell her he’d reached the edge of his endurance?

Was that such a bad thing? Maybe this was what they both needed. They’d been dancing around it for a long time-ever since Australia-and she was tired of it. There was something between them and she wanted to explore it, even if he didn’t think it was a good idea.

So instead of taking that step back, she inched forward, pressing fully against him. She was aware she wore only a towel, that her breasts spilled over the top, pillowing against his back. She laid her head against his shoulder.

“Angie.”

The word came out in a harsh rush of breath, as if it pained him to say it. He finally made a movement, and she held her breath.

He turned, and she tilted her head back. The first thing she saw was the heat in his eyes, the tight set of his jaw as if he were at war with himself and had just lost some internal battle. She knew all about that skirmish.

“Throw the white flag, Ryder,” she whispered.

He hooked his finger beneath the knotted towel and crushed the material in his fist. Could he feel her heart pounding against his knuckles?

His gaze was riveted on her face. She couldn’t take her eyes off the harsh lines around his eyes. Years of worry, or pain. She wanted to reach out and smooth those lines away, but she was frozen to the spot, not wanting to do anything to break the spell.

His hand relaxed, and he lifted the knot from the towel, the material drifting to the floor and discarding the one barrier she had. Not that she cared. The cool airconditioning in the room didn’t do a damn thing to relieve the soaring heat coursing through her body. Her skin ached. Everywhere his eyes grazed her body, a bonfire started.

“You don’t even have the body type I go for. I like big tits and full hips. You’re thin.”

“I know.” She smiled at his attempts to deliberately insult her. Did he think that would drive her away? She knew what he was doing. He was trying to protect him self. Or maybe protect her. He was trying to get her to run.

It wasn’t going to work. She was in this and she wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, he didn’t mean it. He’d been attracted to her since the first moment he set eyes on her in Australia. Instead, she breached those few microinches of distance he refused to take, and slid her hands over his shoulders, then down his chest.

Solid. Muscular. His heart beat wildly, just as hers did.

This was madness. And she had to have it.

“Ryder.” She inhaled, breathing in the man scent of him that drove her crazy.

He pulled her against him, her breasts crushing his chest.

“I lied,” he said as he locked his hands around her back.

“About what?”

“I think you’re so goddamn beautiful I can’t breathe when I’m around you.”

Oh, God. Her belly did flip-flops, but that’s all she had time for, because then his mouth was on hers, and where there had previously been heat, now there was an inferno. She was consumed by it as he devoured her lips with a hunger that curled her toes.

She’d been desired by men before, pursued by them, but not like this, not with this raging, animalistic wanting. Ryder growled against her mouth. It ratcheted up her own need, driving a fury inside her that made her blood boil. She fumbled at the hem of his shirt, tearing it out of his pants, desperate to feel his skin. And when she palmed the flat plane of his stomach, she burned hot-fiery hot.

She was drawn to that flame, wanting to be inside it, to melt until there was nothing left of her. She wanted to touch him everywhere.

She tore her lips away to mumble that he had way too many clothes on and she wanted them out of the way. She pushed away from him, taking a step back while he jerked the shirt over his head, then toed off his boots and popped the button on his pants, shrugging out of them.

He stood proudly naked before her and she sucked in a breath of pure female delight. He was so beautiful, all muscular angles and planes. She wanted to admire his body as she had when she’d caught a glimpse of him in the shower a few days ago. But that would have to wait for later. Now she needed contact. She climbed back into his arms and he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist and search for his mouth again. His tongue twined with hers and licked with devilish intent, mastering her with each velvety stroke until she went liquid. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, not once breaking contact as he climbed on top of her.

His face was tight with strain as he loomed over her. He spread her arms out to her sides and stared down at her.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Be certain.”

Was he joking? His cock rested hot and heavy on her thigh, sweat beaded between her breasts, she was panting like a damn dog in heat because she wanted this so badly-and he was asking her if she was sure? “Dammit, Ryder. I’m not sixteen.”

“No, you sure as hell aren’t.” He leaned over her, covering her body with his.

Oh, the contact of skin to skin was just what she needed. To feel him pressed full on against her was everything she’d wanted. There was so much muscle on him, and she felt every inch of it against her. She was so slight and he was massive, overshadowing her slight frame.

Instead of intimidating her, she thrilled to his possession, the way he buried his face in her neck and seemed to linger there, just breathing her in.

She felt a sense of urgency. He didn’t, taking his time to lick along the pulse point of her neck. Oh, did that ever drive her nuts. She tilted her head to the side to give him free access, her blood rushing where his lips met her skin.

That wasn’t the only place blood was rushing. With every lick of his tongue along her neck, she tingled between her legs. Mercy, that was hot. And it made her itchy to feel something else between her legs. Something hard. Something he withheld from her.

“Ryder, come on.” Hadn’t they toyed long enough?

He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Relax, darlin’, we’re just getting started.”

No, no, no. She didn’t want foreplay now. She wanted sex. Him inside her, thrusting hard. Damn him. She struggled, deciding to take over.

But clearly Ryder wasn’t having any part of letting her take the lead, because when she tried to lift, he held firm to her wrists.

“Uh-uh.” Instead, he dipped down and licked her nipple.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, both hating and loving the wet heat of his mouth. Too much, not enough, she wanted more of this. She moaned, bit down on her lip to silence herself, and fumed that she couldn’t break away from his tight hold on her. His body had her pinned from the waist down, and his hands had a viselike grip on her arms. She was going nowhere until he decided otherwise.

And he was determined to torture her by paying lavish attention to her breasts, licking them, sucking them, even nibbling. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would eliminate the sensations shooting south and threatening to make her insane.

It wasn’t working. She arched her back and drove her breasts against his oh-so-eager mouth, absolutely crazy over what he was doing to her. She hated him. She loved what he was doing to her. She was pulsing everywhere.

So much for her taking the upper hand. She was unmolded clay, soft and unformed. And Ryder was the master sculptor. She even whimpered, God help her, then clamped her lips together, realizing that would only encourage him further.

“You need to relax, Angie.”

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, realizing he was staring up at her from his position at her breasts.

“I am relaxed.”

“No, you’re not,” he said with a smart-ass grin. “What’s wrong? Used to being on top?”

Damn, the man was irritating. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Too bad.” He dragged her wrists with him as he crawled down her body, kissing her belly button along the way. Every single touch of his lips to her skin was a blasted heat furnace. Despite her discomfort at his determination to engage in some serious foreplay when all she wanted was fucking, she couldn’t help but stare down at him when he kissed her inner thigh.

“I know why you’re wound so tight,” he said, his gaze meeting hers as he applied a torturous, long, slow lick to the spot where her thigh joined her sex. “You need to come.”

He had no idea how much. But not this way. Not in the way that left her so out of control. Didn’t he realize she never let men take over like this? Didn’t he unders-

Her thought process was lost when his mouth covered her sex. Wet and hot were the only words that came to mind as an explosion rocketed her. She melted against him as she released over and over again, almost embarrassingly, but couldn’t stop the waves of climax that took over and wouldn’t stop. It had been so long and she was so primed, she hadn’t known she was so ready to fly right over the top. And he was a damned expert at knowing just where her trigger points were. How could he do this to her? How could he know her so well?

He let go of her wrists and climbed up her body, pressing his lips to hers, devouring her mouth in a long, drugging kiss that soon had her raging hot again.

She dragged her fingers through his hair, tugging it with an angry fierceness that had more to do with her exasperation at his prowess over her body than any passion she might feel.

And he knew it, too, because he half growled, half laughed against her lips, as if he knew exactly why she was so mad.

Damn man. He might have given her a Fourth of July fireworks orgasm once, but she wasn’t going to allow him to do that to her again.

He nudged her legs farther apart with his knee and pushed inside her, scooping one hand under her butt to lift her against him.

A tight fit, her body pulsed around him in appreciation, once again betraying her as it began to contract when he slid in and out with such a perfect rhythm it brought tears to her eyes.

She sighed, surrendered the fight, and gave up on her frustration, instead enjoying the supreme pleasure this amazing man gave her. She relaxed and moved into his embrace, kissing him back with full abandon and no sense of anger, throwing her whole body and mind into the experience. He rolled them to the side and lifted her leg so he could thrust deeper, rocking against her slow and easy.

In this position they were face-to-face, eye to eye, and it was so unbearably intimate. She caressed his beardstubbled cheek, rubbed his bottom lip with her fingertip until he took it in his mouth and sucked on it. The sensation made her clench around him and he stilled.

“Damn” was all he said, then all pretense of gentle movements was finished. He gripped her buttocks in a tight hold and began to pump furiously inside her.

She loved this wild side of him and held on, going with him on such an intense ride that when she flew to climax this time, she wasn’t at all surprised, nor annoyed. And he went with her, groaning and taking her mouth with a hungry kiss that left them both panting in its wake.

Satiated and exhausted, she laid her head against his chest while he rubbed her back, and it wasn’t long before she felt her eyelids grow heavy. With Ryder still inside her, she smiled, not able to recall when she’d been more content. Or when she’d felt more protected and cared for.

She let her eyes close and drifted off to sleep.