Page 108 of Clashing
Tears formed in her eyes, and she looked away. “You’re making excuses.”
“Sugar, it’s not you.” I crouched and turned her face toward me. “I’ll stay the night and when you’re sober, I’ll show you how much I want you. Do you have any idea how hot this is? It’s one of my fantasies to have you show up at my house wearing only a jacket. It’s not easy to say no to you.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’m too much trouble and too damaged, I know.” Her lip quivered and she stared at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking messed up. You can go. Please go.”
Goddammit.My options were either make her cry or do something fucked up and I didn’t like those. So I came up with a new one.
I lifted her, only to toss her to the middle of her too small bed. She squealed, and I climbed over her, sliding my hands up and down her sides and nuzzling into her neck.Fuck, I missed her.
She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. She wouldn’t last. As long as I kissed her and made her feel wanted until she passed out, I wouldn’t make her cry. I kissed her slowly and gently, sliding my hands up and down her stomach, but never anywhere she might regret tomorrow.
As usual, she was stubborn. Didn’t pass out as fast as I’d thought, but I knew her better than I knew my fucking self. She was my world.
I angled her head to the side and kissed her while I pushed my fingers through her hair. She hummed as I ran my fingers through the gentle curls. Within seconds, she mewed and slumped into the bed. Her kissing became sloppier. When her hands loosened, I broke the kiss.
“Ryker,” she murmured, eyes shut.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m right here, Scarlett.”
Soft snores answered. I rolled off her, tied her robe, and covered her with a blanket. Her curls spread across her pillow, dark lashes long and tickling her flushed cheeks.She’s so goddamn beautiful.I wanted to stay in bed with her, but I also didn’t want to scare the shit out of her in the morning. So, I moved to her living room and stretched out on the couch, which was far too short for how tall I was. I’d had worse.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I did my best to recover from the most attractive woman in the world throwing herself at me. She wanted us to have sex again, but what did that mean? That she wanted sex or more? Would it be too soon after everything that’d happened?
I wasn’t sure but I was sure that I wanted her. The thought of living another second not having her as minetormentedme. I wanted her at my house loving on my dogs even though they liked her better than me. I pictured her lying in my lap while we watched TV. Waking up beside her. I wanted to fight with her, make up with her, hold her, kiss her, fall asleep with her.
Fuck.I should’ve realized sooner but I’d never been good at emotions or accepting anything good in my life. Scarlett petrified me. Only because I’d never wanted to be close to someone like this. Not until her.
But the truth was undeniable.
I’d fallen for her.
Hard.
Chapter thirty-four
Like You Missed Me
Scarlett
Throbbingheadachesweremyleast favorite way to wake up, but I supposed I’d earned it.
I rolled over in my bed, away from the blinding light of my window. My eyes fluttered against the pounding in my head. I needed water.
Whimpering, I sat up and massaged my scalp, eyes squeezed shut. When I reached a point I could open them without them popping out from the pressure in my skull, I did.
A glass of water sat on my nightstand. A bottle of painkillers beside it. As much as I wanted to believe I’d done that for my future self, it didn’t sound like me.
Then I remembered Ryker coming over. Me throwing myself at him.
I smacked my forehead. “Oh myGod.”
Memories from the night before blurred too much for a clear image. Did he put me to bed? He must’ve put my robe back on me because the ties were tight around my waist.
Shit.Way to embarrass yourself, Scarlett.Retrieving the water and painkillers, I took both and gingerly rose to my feet, then gulped the remaining water. The aroma of eggs pulled me toward the kitchen, and I froze.
Ryker stood at my desk, rifling through drawings. Hopefully not the ones with him.
“What are you doing?”
