Page 98 of Renegade Rift

I almost consider asking if she has any fucking idea what she’s saying—what she’s offering. Because I absolutely meant what I said. I’m not sure I’ll have any sort of restraint once I touch her. She might call me Hulk, but right now I’m Bruce Banner, afraid of what my alter ego might do.

“Juliet,” I rasp, but it comes out more of a whimper. “This—I don’t want this to be a game.Youaren’t a game to me.” I close my eyes and press my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling as I silently will her to understand what I can’t bring myself to say. That I need her to know that even though this is a means to an end for her, if we go down this road, it means everything to me. “I need you to be sure. I?—”

“Ford.”

My eyes flutter open, and I meet her trusting gaze.

“Kiss me.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

FORD

That’s all it takes.

I sign my death warrant.

I’m going to hell, but those three words are all the encouragement I need.

My lips devour hers. God, they’re everything I imagined and more. Soft, supple, and somehow elegant in the way they move against mine. And the taste—fuck me, the taste—strawberries and the lingering hint of her lemon lime soda.

And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’m actually kissing her.

And she’s kissing me back.

Juliet fucking Cruz is kissing me.

She inhales against my lips and eagerly wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, deepening our connection. An involuntary moan rips from my throat, and my hands grip her ribs just high enough my thumbs brush the underside of her breasts.

“Love,” I pant. “I need you to tell me what you want. How far are you willing to take this, because when it comes to you, I'm greedy. I’ll take everything you give me, but I won’t have you giving more than you’re willing for my sake.”

Her chest rises and falls with each heaving breath. “Is it selfish that I want you to make me come?”

I thought I was dead before, but now she’s just twisting the proverbial knife and sealing the deal. How is it even possible I’ve ended up here?

“Oh no, Juliet. Making you come would be a fucking gift.” One I don’t deserve, but will gladly take. I lean in and nip her earlobe. “My only question is, would you like tocome by my fingers, mouth, or cock?”

A shiver wracks her small frame, and I relish the fact my words have that effect on her.

“Fingers and mouth, please.”

Fuck, I love when she asks for what she wants. I love it even more when it means I’m on the edge of getting to drown in her sweet fucking pussy.

My lips lift to a smirk. “As you wish.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should take my time with her, but all logic has gone out the window, and I’m only thinking about granting her request.

Eating the little space left between us, I gently press her against her closed bedroom door and capture her mouth once more in a searing kiss, inhaling the appreciative moan that slips free. She’s intoxicating—the heat of her skin, the taste of her lips, the way her gentle curves feel against my hard planes—I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.

My hands trace their way down her body, across the swell of her breast to the hollow of her waist, only stopping when they reach the hem of her shorts.

“Ford,” she whispers.

“Yes, love, say my name,” I rasp against her lips before leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw to the crook of her neck. “I only want to hear my name when you come.”

She cranes her head to the side giving me better access, and moans. “Please, Ford.”

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