Ricochet (Renegades #3)(82)
Author: Skye Jordan

Without a word, he turned off the water and lifted her from the wall, holding her tight as he stepped over the tub edge. Three steps and he lowered her to his bed, then reached for his nightstand. He pulled a condom, ripped it open, and slid it on, his jaw tight, focus complete. Then he tore the little package of lube with his teeth and squeezed it into his hand.

He gripped his cock with one hand and spread it over the length with the other. The sight might have been even more erotic than what he’d just done to her in the shower, and her heart beat faster. Then he gripped her knees, pulled her wide, and slid his wet fingers between her legs. She gasped at another blast of cold.

He stroked one long finger inside her, pushing it against her front wall with small circles. The sensation created a delicious fullness, and Rachel’s back lifted and curved. He withdrew, added a finger, and pushed deeper. Never once, did he take his gaze off her pussy, off the sight of his fingers sliding inside her. She reached between her legs and stroked her hand over the length of his cock pressed against her thigh. His eyes fell closed, his jaw clenched, and he covered her hands with his, squeezing tighter, stroking from tip to balls, tip to balls.

Then, without warning, he moved his cock to her entrance, pulled his fingers out, and sank in.

He stretched her until her throat closed and her head fell back. Nathan’s palms pressed her inner thighs open, spreading her until her pelvis ached. When his balls pressed hard against Rachel’s body, he withdrew and thrust again. Faster. Harder. Rachel sucked air and gripped his forearms. Still, he didn’t look at her—he watched his cock drive into her pussy. His eyes were dark, his face tight with lust and pain. He seemed to lose himself a little more with each stroke, until the lover Rachel knew was all but gone, here only in body. And he drove that body to the brink.

Fast and hard, he pushed into her, over and over, his fingers bruising as they gripped her thighs wide. Standing on the floor, he used the strength of his legs to drive his hips, his pelvis hitting her clit. The head of his cock rubbing that crazy spot deep in her body.

Despite the pain, despite the disconnection, Rachel rose quickly. “Nathan…” she breathed. “I’m…I’m gonna…”

Slam. The orgasm hit her. Her body arched and twisted. Her breath caught in her lungs. Still, Nathan drove on, the only sign he realized she’d come the way his hands grew harder, holding her still, and a growl when her pussy spasmed around his cock.

Pump. Pump. Pump. He kept driving, and driving, and driving. And as she bottomed out, an instant of clarity made her realize Nathan wasn’t just seeking distraction from the horrible incident with Ray. He was trying to fuck the trauma in Afghanistan out of his mind. And even though Rachel was wrung out, and pain now flowed through her hip joints, an ache had developed in her ass, and her pussy was nearly raw despite the lube, her body still tightened toward climax again.

“Nathan,” she begged. “I can’t… I can’t…” But her body made a liar out of her. All the pressure and friction gathered into another wave of excruciating ecstasy and dragged her toward the edge again. “God…”

He drove deep, pressed his pelvic bone to her clit, and pumped his hips in short, powerful strokes. Rachel’s climax erupted , shot a thrill straight to her core, and shivered uncontrollably as Nathan continued to drive a mini burst of orgasms through her body, one after the other after the other, as if he had a finger on the control button and just kept pressing it.

“Na—than… Please… Stop…”

He stilled, breathing hard, eyes squeezed tight. He brought one knee up on the bed between her legs and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “I can’t…come.” His voice was tight, frustrated. “I just can’t…get off, goddammit.”

Now that he’d stopped moving, even more discomfort rushed to the foreground. Pulls and aches in her lower back, her thighs, places deep in her body she couldn’t even pinpoint.

“You’re thinking too hard.” With her heart aching, she lifted her hands to his face. “Look at me.”

He shook his head. “Can’t.”

“Nathan.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “Look at me.”

He exhaled heavily, then lifted his head and cracked his lids. She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. He groaned and kissed her back with a desperate passion. His body began to move again, and Rachel grimaced against the discomfort, but kept kissing him.

“Baby,” he murmured against her lips. “Jesus…so good…” He thrust—slowly, deeply—and his orgasm peaked within seconds. He plunged deep as he emptied, his sounds of release filled with relief.

His arms shook, and he collapsed on her, panting. But within a minute, he pulled out, rolled off, and stalked to the bathroom. Rachel lay there, staring at the ceiling.

“What the fuck just happened?” she whispered to herself.

The toilet flushed. The water ran in the sink. Rachel winced as she pushed herself up. Her head swam. A thud nearby drew his gaze. Nathan stood at the dresser, naked. He’d set the vodka bottle on the surface and pulled a T-shirt from the top drawer. When he turned toward her, she saw he was holding her flip-flops and her bundled wet clothes tucked in his arm. Dropping her shoes and clothes at her feet, he opened the T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, holding her arms down when he tried to pull them through the sleeves.

“Giving you something to wear back to your room,” he said, his voice as flat as his gaze. “Unless you want to go naked. I doubt anyone is awake anyway.”

A chill settled in her chest. She yanked the shirt off her head. “What’s going on with you?” He turned away, and Rachel grabbed his hand. “Hey. Talk to me.”

He pulled out of her grasp. Dragging a pair of boxer briefs from the drawer, he tugged them on, then gripped the vodka and let the bottle hang by his side. “I don’t want to talk, Rachel. And I won’t make good company. It would be better for you to go.”

He held her gaze with an untouchable air. Rachel felt like she was looking at a different man. Not her funny, sexy Nathan. And the way he could slide into such an indifferent shell signaled a very deep problem.

“He was spiraling. It’s one of the reasons I wanted him to do this job. Give him some purpose until he went back to work.”

Every instinct in Rachel wanted to gather him in her arms and love him until his pain eased. But, like an injured animal, he just wanted to run. So Rachel gave him what she gave all her macho Renegades—tough love.