Ricochet (Renegades #3)(9)
Author: Skye Jordan

He tasted her lips, and she opened to him, but her mouth remained tense with restrained hunger. One Ryker burned to release. And when her tongue eased past his lips and slid against his, all his thoughts sank into Rachel and the feel of his tongue moving in her mouth.

Public, a little voice chattered in his head. You’re in public.

But, dear God, her mouth was perfect—the heat, the movement, the taste. He wanted his cock surrounded by this mouth. Stroked by this tongue. Sucked by these lips. All while he fisted her hair and watched her fuck him, those big brown eyes looking up at him, drenched in pleasure.

“Your bill.” The bartender’s get-a-room tone snapped the moment like a dry twig, and he and Rachel came apart with a start. For an extended second, they stared at each other in surprise, maybe even a little awe.

Where the hell did that come from? was rolling around in his head when Rachel licked her lips, tucked her hair behind her ears, and turned to scribble a signature across the credit card receipt, then slid the card into her purse.

“Let’s go.” She whipped her sweater and her bag from the chair, grabbed Ryker’s hand and started toward the door.

“Hold on,” he said, turning back toward the bar. “My stuff.” When he bent to pick up his duffle and backpack, his head swam the way it did from the percussion of an IED that exploded a little too close. She was already making him dizzy.

With his bags over his shoulder, he took her hand again, and the smile she gave him softened her sweet face and made his legs feel like he just finished a sweaty, sandy, mountain hike.

They didn’t talk as they made their way through the busy terminal toward baggage claim and out to the shuttle area. Ryker’s mind darted to the consequences of having Rachel discover who he really was, to Troy and Jax and the job he should be consulting on, to the surreal sensation of his hand wrapped in Rachel’s.

Rachel.

God, this was weird. She’d been popping into his head for the last week at the strangest times. And he hadn’t even known what she’d looked like then, only that she was funny and clever and didn’t easily take offense to his teasing. Some women could be so sensitive.

He scanned the curb outside baggage claim. Across the drop-off lanes, a burgundy Crowne Plaza Hotel van pulled up.

“Perfect timing,” she said, picking up the pace and pulling Ryker along.

He would agree—everything since she’d shown up at the bar had been perfect timing…if it weren’t for the fact that they really had been scheduled to meet earlier, and in a whole different way, and for a whole different purpose.

Guilt edged in. He stalled the realization, hoping the annoying emotion would dissipate. At the stairs to the van, he held her waist as she climbed, then sat beside her where she took a seat halfway down the empty rows. Three other passengers got on, all sitting at the front.

Rachel angled toward him and swung her thigh over his, leaning in and looking up at him with those big, warm eyes.

Shit. He had to tell her.

“Hey.” He wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close, nudged a strand of hair off her forehead with the other hand. “I should tell you—”

Her fingers pressed against his lips. The van doors closed, and the vehicle started moving.

“The only thing I want to know now,” she said, voice soft, “is, one: if you’re married.” He shook his head. “Two: if you have a disease you could share.” His lips curled beneath her fingers, and he shook his head again. “Three: if you don’t have condoms.” He chuckled, shook his head, and covered her hand with his. “Four: if you’re wanted for violent crimes.”

He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “No.”

“Or five,” she said, “if you’ve changed your mind about the hotel.”

He kissed her hand again, letting his tongue travel up from the center of her palm and along her middle finger before taking it into his mouth. Her lips parted, and surprised heat flooded her eyes.

He stroked her small digit with his tongue, loving the complex emotions darting through her gaze—lust, confusion, and ultimately surrender, as pleasure eased her expression.

She was so different from the women he ended up with—experienced, overtly sexual, wickedly dirty. He’d always thought that was what turned him on. But he’d obviously been wrong, because with little more than a kiss from Rachel, he was harder than concrete. Sure, he was pretty much constantly horny, but he was discovering that the physical need to fuck was very different from wanting to fuck because a woman turned him on.

He was too damned old to be learning shit like this.

“And,” he put her fifth concern to rest, “hell, no, I haven’t changed my mind.”

That smile, the one that did weird things to his stomach, flashed again. “Then you don’t have to tell me anything. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t.” She lifted a hand to his face, and stroked her fingers across his jaw, her gaze on his mouth. “I’d really like to leave all reality behind tonight.”

He couldn’t ask for more. She was exactly what he needed when he needed it.

He slid his hand under the hem of her dress and up the back of the smooth, warm, tight thigh lying over his. She turned into him, her breasts supple against his side, and lifted her hips so she could get closer. The sexy move made Ryker think about her doing the same as he thrust deep inside her. And, God, he wasn’t sure how long he could wait to get there.

His stomach balled into a fiery knot, and he squeezed her thigh. “Damn, you are such a sweet surprise.”

He lowered his head and suckled her lips. Stroked them with his tongue. Nibbled on the bottom one until her fingers dug into his arm, and she groaned. He moved the hand on her thigh higher. And higher. So warm. So soft. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered against her cheek. “Bet you taste like candy.”

Her hand released, flexed, released, and she pressed her pelvis against his hip, rubbing on him like a cat. One he wanted to pet all over.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he whispered, kissing her temple, her hair. “Lick you everywhere.” The more he talked, the closer she pressed. By the time they got to the hotel, she’d be dripping. “Thank God we have all night, because before the sun comes up, baby, I’m going to have tasted every…literal…inch of you.”

She sighed, turned her head, and pressed her face against his neck. “Too good to be true,” she murmured before closing her lips over his skin. Then scraping with her teeth.