Page 100 of Ride the Sky

“One of the biggest,” she clips, but there’s no bite to it.

Heat and hope flare within me.

My fingers trail higher, gently caressing the scar on her leg from the surgery. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” I whisper, sweeping a light kiss over it.

“Wyatt.” My name’s a hoarse whisper.

Then I angle my head to drag my nose over the fabric of her bikini bottoms. My dick strains in my board shorts as I inhale. Chlorine. Pussy. Fallon.

“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, unable to stop myself. “You smell just like I remember.”

Fallon releases a soft moan, dropping her hand to drag her fingers through my hair.

I forget all logic. Chancing it, I stroke a finger over the crotch of her bikini bottoms. Fallon releases a long breath. Like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have.

Christ. I can feel her heartbeat in her walls. That throb. That pulse.

I look up at her, grin. “Your pussy didn’t forget me, did it?” I press a finger deeper into the damp fabric. Feel her warmth. Her wetness. “Already soaked, aren’t you, Trouble?”

She gasps brokenly, red in the face. Angry, turned on—I can’t tell with Fallon. Maybe they’re the same damn thing. Even so, she’s still the same girl I’ve loved all these years, and getting her worked up is a goddamn honor.

Hands now on her waist, those fucking gorgeous curves, I pull myself up. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” I lower my mouth to her breast, licking her pebbled nipple. Teasing it with my tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps.

I breathe deeply and say, “I’m so sorry.”

Fallon grips my shoulders, digging her nails in, whimpering softly.

I step back just enough to lock my gaze to hers. “And I’ll never, ever, fuckingever, hurt you again. I promise.”

A shuddering breath escapes her lips. “That’s a big promise, Wyatt.”

Pulse racing, I tug her against me. “I still promise.”

She clutches one of my arms. “Asshole,” she murmurs.

I nuzzle her cheek. “Am I forgiven?”

“What do you think?” Her voice shivers.

Not an answer.

The unholy fire in her eyes dares me to lean in closer. I grip the back of her neck, sliding my hand into her damp, silky hair. I need this girl in the worst way. Need to prove to her the way I feel. Have always felt.

Her eyes widen. “We don’t kiss.”

“We do now,” I tell her right before slamming my lips to hers.

The porch light rattles as Wyatt presses me back against the railing. His hands tangle in my hair, grip my jaw. Tongue searching, his lips move urgently over mine, stealing my breath. My first taste of him is whiskey and sin. Pure adrenaline.

Our first kiss. My destruction. They’re one and the same.

Need need need

This man this man this man

On a growl, I pull back and slap him.

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