Ricochet (Renegades #3)(67)
Author: Skye Jordan

She imagined Nathan as a boy, lost and confused, and God, that just broke her heart. She gazed into the clear bottom of her third empty glass of wine. “And now?”

He shrugged and frowned into his glass. “I…still don’t know.”

Another piece of wood fell into the center of the small fire. Nathan reached over and squeezed her knee before standing and turning to the back of the alcove. “I didn’t mean to get all serious on you.” He came back out with more pieces of wood, laid them on the fire, and sat on the blanket again. “How about another surprise?”

Her heart did that tightening thing again. She shook her head. “We’re already way past our five minutes.” She glanced around for her shoes and found her head a little light. Three glasses of wine on an empty stomach in the span of fifteen minutes? She was over her limit. “Where’d you put—”

His hand appeared in front of her at eye level, holding a perfect, chocolate-dipped strawberry in his palm.

Her shoulders sagged, and her insides went soft. “Seriously?”

“Come on,” he said. “Relax with me. It’s been a hell of a long day.”

That it had. She cut a look at him. He was so close. His eyes warm, his stubble dark, his mouth…

No. Just no.

But her body was already simmering. And she was so tired of pushing him away. And there was no one here but the two of them. And she hadn’t eaten since noon.

She sat back and took the berry from his hand. “Where did you get these?”

He pulled another one from a box nearby. “Town.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You did a lot in town.”

“You say that like I’m not normally efficient.”

She bit into the berry. The chocolate shell cracked, and the strawberry burst. The sweet, sour, and tangy taste spread through her mouth at the same time, and her appetite lunged to life. She closed her eyes and moaned. The darkness made her dizzy again, and she swayed, brushing against Nathan’s body where he’d moved behind her.

He lowered his chin to her shoulder. “Take another bite,” he whispered. “I want to hear you make that sound again.”

All her lust broke loose and flooded her body. She wanted to lean back and sink into him. Instead, she leaned away. “Oh-kay, time to—”

His hand cupped her face, turned her head, and pulled her mouth to his. The force of the kiss pressed her head back against his shoulder. Her lips parted, and Nathan’s tongue stroked inside. She didn’t think, just opened to him, met his tongue with hers, and made a sound in her throat, one even she didn’t recognize.

17

His mouth eased off hers too soon. She was still hungry for him. But his lips touched her jaw, her neck, then disappeared.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, in between his spread thighs. His erection pressed a hard line up the small of her back, and he lifted another chocolate strawberry to her lips.

“Eat,” he murmured. “Before I find other ways to distract your mouth.”

Too late. She had a handful of other ideas in mind already. But she closed her lips around the plump strawberry. With Nathan’s chin on her shoulder, watching her, Rachel was hyperaware of every move of her lips, her tongue, her teeth, and simply eating a strawberry had never been so erotic.

When it was gone, Nathan ran his index finger over her lower lip, and Rachel licked it, then took it between her lips and sucked. A soft moan sounded at her ear, and he offered another. She did the same with that one.

“I love your mouth,” he murmured.

It wasn’t the words as much as the affection in his voice that pushed Rachel over the edge. He was a good man. A troubled man, but a good man. One with a strength of character, heart, and soul that she admired.

She sucked his fingers free, dropped her head back, and wrapped one arm up and around his head, pulling him into a kiss. His tongue was warm, his movements sensual, and Rachel pushed her bottom back against his erection with a sudden need to be closer to him.

He groaned into her mouth, fisted a handful of her hair, and pulled her head back while lifting his own to break the kiss. “How tipsy are you?”

“Less than I was at the hotel.”

His fingers raked against her belly as he fisted and flexed his fingers, making her realize his hand had found its way under her shirt, and suddenly all she could focus on was the feel of flesh on flesh.

“I have one last surprise,” he said, his voice rough as he lowered his lips to her shoulder and kissed her there, then whispered, “Wanna play with it?”

God, she was so gone. The stress, the wine, the fatigue, they’d all weakened her. Now she didn’t have the strength to resist him when she should.

She leaned close and took the skin of his neck gently between her teeth and scooted her hips back to rub against him again. “Mmm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He lifted his head and reached behind him again, leaving her back open to the cool night air. That was enough to sharpen her mind, but not near the jolt required to shake the need he’d stirred, something she feared had gone beyond sexual. Then he was back, legs flanking hers, knees up, arms wrapped around her, presenting her with a box the length of his palm, two inches high and two inches wide. It was wrapped in plain hot-pink paper with a single ribbon, and she stared at it stupidly.

A gift?

Only now, staring at the box, did she realize she hadn’t been offered a gift by a man in… Had it really been years? Dante had forgotten her birthday eight months before. Claimed Valentine’s Day was a fake holiday created by greeting card manufacturers. And had shown up empty-handed at Christmas with the bullshit story that they’d already agreed their planned trip to his parent’s house in Vermont that coming February would be their gift to each other.

How had she stayed with him for so long?

“Come on,” he whispered at her shoulder. “Open it.”

“Why’d you do this?” She took the box and glanced at him. His eyes were bright with excitement.

“Because I think you’ll enjoy it.”

The seductive tone of his voice hinted at something sexy in the box. “What in the hell were you going to do if I flat out said no to coming tonight?”

“Someone was going to get lucky in a whole different way than I intended. Come on, come on.” He punctuated the words with the nudge of his chest against her back. “Rip it open.”

She laughed. “You’re worse than a kid at Christmas.”