Page 60 of The Rejected Wife

“No, it wasn’t. I burned the food I was making. That’s all.”

I don’t think I’m getting through to him because he doesn’t slow down. I sense the tension pouring off of him. See the sweat clinging to his bunched-up shoulders. The muscles of his body have seized up so much, it feels like I’m clinging to a stone pillar.

I pat his big broad chest. “Tyler, I’m fine.”

No answer. The granite hard profile, the set to his chin, that fierce edge to his gaze… All of it is so sexy, it turns my insides to mush. But it’s the way his arms lock around me, like he’d rather die than let go— That’s what shatters me.

“Tyler, everything's okay,” I say again in a soothing tone.

When he still doesn’t answer, I realize, he’s in some kind of zone. The concentration on his features gives me a glimpse of how he must have been as a Marine. Sharp. Ruthless. Unflinching in the face of chaos. My heart constricts with an emotion I don’t dare name. Something that claws at my chest and makes my breath hitch.

I act on instinct. I lean up and kiss the side of his mouth.

Instantly, he comes to a stop. He turns his head and deepens the kiss.

30

Tyler

Yes, I’m carrying her under one arm. A part of me registered what she said. And my instincts have finally receded from the Op Critical mode they kicked into.

I was about to jump into the shower when the fire alarm went off in the apartment, and the security app on my phone blared a warning.

I grabbed the first piece of clothing I found, my sweats. Then I pocketed my phone, which is linked to the baby cam trained on Serene, and raced toward Cilla’s apartment.

Every cell in my body snapped to attention, a red mist descending in front of my eyes and the only words repeating in my mind were that I was not going to let anything happen to her. And when she kissed the corner of my mouth, the fog broke.

In seconds, I realized three things: She was safe. Serene was back home and safe. And Cilla was in my arms, her mouth touching mine. Okay, four things. I did what anyone in my situation would have. I made the most of it.

Now, I lick into her mouth, and a moan swells her throat. Soft. Sweet. Like candy and honey and every single pleasurable thing on this planet. The touch of her lips is like a spark to a fuse of dynamite. Lust rips through me. Combined with the relief that nothing happened to her, every barrier I've tried to put up between us collapses.

I allow her to slide down until her feet touch the ground, while maintaining my grip around her waist. Then I dip her over my arm and ravage her mouth. She kisses me right back.

Her curves are plastered to me, her breasts flattened against my side. I pull her even closer. I thrust my thigh between hers, widening my stance so my legs are planted solidly on the ground. For a few seconds, it feels like everything I need is here…with me…in my arms.

Her taste on my palate, her scent in my nostrils, her essence coursing through my veins. This is heaven. This is what I’ve been searching for. This is what I've missed. This is it.This. This. This.

She wraps one leg around me, pushes her hips in closer, and with her dress around her waist, she begins to ride my thigh. The drugging warmth from her core sinks through my pants and into my skin. I’m so hard, my balls feel like they’ve turned into anchors.

Then she tears her mouth from mine. “Serene, is she?—”

“Asleep. I have my phone, which is linked to the baby cam.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

We stare at each other. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair wild around her shoulders. Her lips are kiss-swollen, pupils blown wide. She looks wrecked. Beautiful.Mine.She looks as dazed as I feel.

The air is thick with everything we haven’t said. My heart’s still pounding. My blood’s still racing. I’m still reeling. Still adjusting to the reality that she’s fine. She. Is. Fine.

“I’m, uh, sorry I kissed you,” she whispers.

I’m not.

“Umm… You surprised me.” She pulls away from me. I let her go and miss her already.

“I wasn’t getting through to you and realized I needed to get your attention, so—” She smooths down her hair, then rubs her hands down her dress. I realize she’s barefoot in the grass, and the sight of her pink-tipped nails and her narrow feet is intimate in a way that undoes me. My heartbeat ratchets up. My pulse pounds at my temples, my wrists, even in my fucking balls.

“You succeeded.” My voice comes out like my throat is lined with gravel.

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