Ricochet (Renegades #3)(50)
Author: Skye Jordan

Ryker wrapped one hand under her hair and around the back of her neck. “I’m not going to make a big deal out of this. It’s simple. Straightforward. I want you. You want me. If you’ll agree to ride this out until the end of the project, I’ll agree to keep it secret.”

She was looking at him like he was talking Pashto, and he mentally checked his language. Still speaking English.

“When we get down there,” he said, “I’ll show you just how good I am at treating you like I’m not counting the seconds until I can get you naked again. Like I’m not thinking about tasting every inch of your skin. Like I’m not obsessed with the idea of diving between your legs and staying there for—”

She pressed her hand to his mouth and closed her eyes. “Stop.”

He took her face in both hands and dragged her in for a kiss. A long, slow, deep, wet kiss he felt all the way to the pit of his stomach.

He forced himself to break the kiss and look her in the eyes. They were languid and unguarded, the color of warm whiskey. “I’m offering you exactly what you want. No-strings, no-shame, no-limits, no-complications, wicked-good sex. Complete with an agreed-upon end date, a vow of secrecy, and an eight-thousand-mile anti-stalking guarantee when it’s over.”

Emotions flashed through her eyes, so many and so fast, he wasn’t sure he’d figured one out before the next came. But she pushed off his chest and squirmed back on his thighs. Ryker caught her waist and held her there. “This isn’t… I can’t…” Panic—that was the emotion burning in her eyes now. “I don’t know how to do this…this…whatever this is.”

“Well, I suggest we both damn well figure it out.” He ran a hand over her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead, then stood and set her feet on the ground. “Because I can guarantee we’re going to end up in bed together again, Rachel. If we don’t work out the logistics first, we’ll find ourselves there without any ground rules. And I don’t think that will work well for either of us.”

13

Rachel’s knees stung from the burn of industrial carpet beneath the desk where she plugged in the last computer monitor and tightened the screws.

The ranch was made up of multiple small buildings, all vintage Old West ranch style, but clean and well maintained. This building was positioned closest to the ranch entrance, and the largest room already housed two desks and a filing cabinet, so Rachel had spent the early evening setting it up as the main office.

Since the woman who Rachel had wanted to hire as her assistant couldn’t make it in the new, shorter time frame, Jax had grabbed two others from the set to help. Unfortunately, they hadn’t turned out to be much help at all. Katie and Kelly Darling weren’t exactly darling, but they were curvy, blonde, twin twenty-year-old speed bunnies with a reputation for being up for anything. They were also nice girls and handled the simple office work well enough.

And their big blue eyes had latched on to Ryker the moment he’d entered the office to meet Jax, Charlie, and Josh, and hadn’t let go until the guys left to walk the surface of the bridge.

Rachel made the last turn of the screw and rolled to her butt with a sigh. Beneath the desk, she leaned against the side and wrapped her arms around her shins. She glanced at her knees and found them rug-burned and scraped from her day.

“Attractive,” she murmured, rubbing the sting.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes, exhausted. Yet, evidently not too exhausted to conjure Nathan’s sexy voice saying, “No-strings, no-shame, no-limits, no-complications, wicked-good sex.”

And her body screamed, “Yes!”

Then she heard the rest. “Complete with an agreed-upon end date, a vow of secrecy, and an eight-thousand-mile anti-stalking guarantee when it’s over.”

And her heart…or her conscience…or her soul…or something screamed, “What the hell?”

What kind of person started a relationship with a projected end date picked out? How could she go into anything other than one night hiding it from everyone who mattered to her? And what was it about that eight-thousand-mile anti-stalking guarantee that both relieved her and broke a tiny piece of her heart?

The whole situation went against everything she’d been raised to believe, against the core values her parents had spent almost three decades instilling. Yet, now the very people who’d placed such high value on those ethics for so long simply ignored them when it made their life difficult. Which left Rachel in tangled confusion over the validity of beliefs she’d shaped her life around. And at a loss when it came to incorporating the new ideas she’d developed for her life. Especially since they weren’t working out all that well.

And as if she needed one more issue to cloud her mind, she thought back to what she’d dug up on the Army Rangers on the Internet the night after the barbecue at Jax’s house.

Rangers are more than just physically strong, Rangers are smart, tough, courageous, and disciplined. Rangers proudly display the qualities that make the 75th Ranger Regiment one of the most recognized and esteemed units in the world.

She’d gone on to read about recent Ranger missions in Afghanistan, riveted to the stories of Rangers being trapped under heavy gunfire, outnumbered by insurgents, maimed, killed. But there were also countless stories of bravery during rescues, village Taliban attacks, bombings.

And a lot of accounts of Rangers killing the enemy.

Nathan had been a Ranger for eight years. Overseas for sixteen. She knew the chances were that he’d killed people.

And the thought swamped her with more emotions than she could handle.

She rubbed at the pain in her temples, whispering, “I’m so screwed up.”

The sound of a heavy engine touched Rachel’s ears through the open window. The guys were back, and she needed to get off her ass and into the shower. Since they didn’t have a cook yet, she’d ordered dinner from the closest restaurant that would deliver.

“Oooo,” Katie said from the other room with too much feminine glee in her voice. “They’re back.”

“Rachel?” Kelly called.

“Yeah.” She couldn’t bring herself to crawl out.

“You’re sure you don’t have a thing for Ryker?”

“I already told you,” Katie scolded her sister, “Rachel doesn’t do Renegades.”

Rachel closed her eyes and smiled. She should tell Jax to change the policy wording from “date” to “do.”