Ricochet (Renegades #3)(8)
Author: Skye Jordan

“I love men,” she said, then quickly added, “not, you know… Okay, that came out wrong. I mean I enjoy the company of men. And, yes, I get them—mostly.”

“I know what you meant, and mostly is more than…well, most.”

She laughed, took another sip, surprised to find her second drink almost gone. Glancing down the bar, she realized the seats were filled with businessmen and one middle-aged couple. Two edgy-looking young women pushed to their feet and sauntered past her and Nathan toward the door. But his gaze never even flickered their way.

Fascinating.

Men like this rugged Nathan usually looked right through her.

“How long are you giving the guy to show?” he asked.

“Oh…” She shrugged and finished her drink. “I gave up on him about an hour ago.”

Nathan’s grin turned warm, and his lips parted to say something.

Rachel’s cell chimed.

Disappointment flashed across his face. “Maybe you’re not getting out of it as easily as you thought.”

Dammit. He’d been about to take the next step, she could feel it. If this text was from one of the guys telling her where to pick up Ryker, she was going to implode.

She met his smile with a sly one of her own. “Maybe he’s not getting picked up, regardless.”

Nathan chuckled.

Rachel read the text.

6612010666: Hi. Mom says you’re not coming this weekend. We really need to talk.

The sight of Nicole’s cell number raised a cluster of emotions she didn’t want or need. It took all her willpower not the type back tough shit. She clicked the power button to turn off the screen just as the phone chimed again.

Rachel clenched her teeth, tapped the screen and read the message.

6612010666: Dante will be with me. We’d both like to see you.

Hurt, fury, betrayal… They stormed inside her, a hurricane threatening to overwhelm her.

“Everything okay?” Nathan’s low, sexy voice pulled her back—to the bar, to her tipsy state, to the hunk sitting within reach.

“Yes,” she said deliberately, forcing it to be true. She powered off her phone, and smiled up at Nathan. “That was my boss. The guy I was here to pick up got tired of waiting and took a taxi to his friend’s house.”

One of Nathan’s dark brows rose. “Really.”

Rachel pushed her phone into her purse and pulled out the hotel key card she’d picked up before coming to the airport so they didn’t give Ryker’s hotel room away when he was late checking in.

“Really.” She might be tipsy, but she was still in complete control of herself as she tapped the plastic card on the bar, sliding it through her fingers. She continued to flip and slide the card, looked directly into his eyes, and, with a ball of anxiety in her throat, said, “Looks like that suite at the Crowne is going to be empty tonight.”

Shifting on his stool, Nathan filled her personal space with his heat, his clean, male scent, his intention.

“An empty hotel suite,” he said slowly, lids heavier now, gaze taking on that sharper focus men got when their minds turned interested, “is a terrible thing to waste.”

When she laughed, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek with the back of one finger. Her heart gave a jolt, and she sipped a breath as his finger slid down her cheek, along her chin, and continued over her neck.

The delicate touch seemed odd for such a rough man, but she only had a second to think about that before his finger followed the line of her dress, tracing the skin along her chest, then…her cleavage. His darkening gaze followed the path of his touch. Her heart beat faster. Her skin prickled. Her breasts tugged. Nipples hardened. She squeezed her drink glass so hard she feared she might shatter it.

“That’s just what I was thinking.” She pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and let her gaze drift over that square, stubble-darkened jaw, riveted to the way his scars kept his beard from growing in evenly. She wanted to ask how he got them, yet didn’t. The less she knew, the better, because this wasn’t about getting attached. This was about moving on.

That thought curbed her nerves over propositioning a stranger. Just a guy passing through, looking to kill time.

She lifted her eyes back to his. “Wanna check it out with me?”

She was fully prepared for his sudden backpedal. Some guys got weird when a woman made the first big move. But his expression softened and his eyes closed briefly before he whispered, “Thank you, God.”

The utter relief on his face made Rachel laugh again and went a long way toward healing her ego, her pride, and her self-worth.

“You just made my week, baby.” He stood and tugged her to her feet, pulling her gently against his chest. The smooth way he slipped his arms around her made it clear he’d been here before. Often. For Rachel’s new life plan, that worked perfectly.

“Are we walking, cabbing…?” he asked.

“Sh-shuttle.” A surprised thrill made her head cloud. “Or…my car is in the lot.”

“Shuttle. You can’t drive.” His hands squeezed her waist, moved up her back, down again, spreading fiery tingles through her body. He lifted one hand to her chin and tilted her face up. “That way I can touch.”

He lowered his head, and instead of leaning back the way Rachel’s lifetime of conservative instincts ordered, she lifted to her toes. Their lips met more deliberately than she’d intended. But, fuck it. She was sick of looking for the “right” guy. Sick of trying to satisfy the unfulfilled cravings that had developed over the last year. She wanted a man’s hands on her. A man’s mouth everywhere. A man’s body moving with hers.

He made a surprised sound in his throat, and it thrilled her to have taken a man like this off guard. Then the feel of his mouth sank in—firm, warm, supple—and her excitement burst into lust.

She should pull away now. Every voice in her head told her to stop. Told her she was devaluing herself. Acting reckless, careless, downright stupid.

You’re in an airport bar, for God’s sake.

He’s a total stranger. No different from the guy at the corner gas station.

Are you really this desperate?

Rachel lowered, pulling out of the kiss. Nathan, still fully involved, groaned in complaint and followed her down, reluctantly breaking the connection. The action created a sweet pang in her chest.

If wanting this man made her desperate, fine.

She was desperate.

Her lips pillowed beneath Ryker’s in the most luscious way, but it was the purr rolling from her throat, the way her body relaxed into his, the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest that made his thoughts evaporate and fire spread through his lower body.