Page 53 of Take The Risk

​“You scared me,” I accused.

​“I’m sorry.” He came onto the deck, the light of the fire partially illuminating his face in hues of orange and yellow while the moon overhead caught him on the other side, outlining the ridges and contours of his face with silver and shades of black. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

​“What are you doing here?” There was an air about him tonight that had me sitting back in my seat.

​“Why is it ‘obviously ridiculous’?” He prowled forward slowly.

​“Why is what ridiculous?” What was he talking about?

​Stalking me like a lion with its prey, he closed in on me. Something tightened inside me at the predatory look on his face. This wasn’t the Ty I was used to. This one had an air of danger about him, and sicko that I was, I found it…exciting.

​“You and me,” he clarified. “Your text. Why is it ridiculous?”

​“Uh—” My text?

​Leaning down, he grabbed the back of my seat, caging me in. There was a kind of determination on his face that made fear trip through me, even as the heat of his body and the smell I could get drunk on filled me with a kind of need I’d never felt.

​“Ty—” I began.

​His hand speared into my hair, grabbing the back of my head so fast I couldn’t react. “Does this feel ridiculous?” His lips covered mine. He didn’t force; he teased me, his tongue running along the seam of my lips, pressing just enough to be let inside.

​My heart exploded and any thought of fighting drained out of me. With a helpless cry, I kissed him back. He leaned forward, pushing me back further, his knee coming between my legs as he took what he wanted.

​I’d never forget the way he moaned—actually moaned—when I slid my hands up his shoulders, and into his hair, savoring the feel of his muscles, pulling him closer.

​His hand skimmed down my side, tickling me over my shirt. I squirmed, instinctively widening my legs. He settled more fully between them, his erection pressing into me.

​Weeks of wanting, weeks of need, poured into that kiss.

​His hand slipped beneath the hem of my loose T-shirt, his rough calluses abrading my soft skin in the most delicious way.

​Ty lifted his head, his amber eyes nearly black, that same tantalizing contrast of color, light and dark, playing on his face. “Tell me now if you want me to stop.”

​Did I want him to stop? NO! My body screamed.

​His hand spanned my waist, the heat sinking deep inside me. I clenched my hand on the back of his head. “Kiss me, Ty.”

​It was all the permission he needed. His head dipped again and this time the kiss wasn’t slow and sweet. It was earthy, filled with a dark desire that had been building between us for weeks.

​His hand worked beneath my shirt, pulling the fabric up until he found the barely-there sleep bra I wore. With deft fingers, he pulled the bra out of the way, his hand covering my breast. I cried out at the feel of his fingers surrounding the sensitive peak of my nipple, at the way he pinched it just hard enough to kiss the edge of painful pleasure I’d always needed but never had.

​Trailing his lips down my neck, he kissed, licked, and bit me. I could feel his beard scrape my skin and knew I’d need a turtleneck tomorrow. Not that I cared.

​I undulated beneath him, rubbing my pussy against the hard ridge of his cock. The bite of his zipper could be felt through the soft material of my lounge pants, and I couldn’t help but want more.

​“Ty—” I gasped his name. His head dipped, and he took the torrid peak of my nipple into his mouth.

​His tongue danced wickedly, his teeth nipping and pulling. My eyes closed as shock after shock of sensation coursed through me. There was nothing else for me in that moment. I forgot I was outside, that there were trees and owls, that there was no fence with houses a short distance away. All there was was Ty and his hands and mouth on my body.

​He rumbled against my breast, “You taste so good.” He continued his assault on my breast, working my shirt up to expose my other nipple, turning his attention to it. I felt the first brush of his fingers at the waistband of my pants and my breath caught.

​My thighs tightened around his hips, pulling him close at the same time that a small part of me wanted to close them. My muscles tensed as nerves got the better of me, so I squeezed his hips without realizing. His fingers dipped inside and stilled, his head lifting. “Relax, baby. Let me in,” he coaxed.

​Inside me, the butterflies that called my stomach home picked up jackhammers and hammered away hard enough I felt their presence through the haze of need wrapping around me.

​Ty waited, kissing me, his fingers rubbing the spot just beneath my waistband, touching nerves I had no idea were so sensitive. Gradually, my legs relaxed and Ty stopped teasing. Keeping his lips on mine, he slid his fingers beneath my panties.

​This was reckless. It was forbidden. I knew I should stop his hand. I should call this off. But I couldn’t. I’d wanted him for weeks. I’d thought about this, written about this, dreamed about this. It was selfish, destructive, and the little resistance I had left inside me evaporated at the first brush of his fingers on my swollen lips. This moment, this one fleeting moment, was mine, and I couldn’t fight myself anymore.