Ryder pulled her to him, then crossed the vast sitting room, keeping her firmly pinned to his side. Macy’s stomach quivered with anticipation. She’d never felt anything like this intoxicating mix of excitement and impatience, not even on Christmas Eve as a child, knowing there would be extravagant presents under the tree. The prospect of unwrapping Ryder surpassed any gift she could imagine.
She’d been resisting him for weeks, then when he’d had the call about his brother, her heart had gone out to him. And once she was beside him on the couch, his magnificent chest bare, him gripping her for dear life, she knew the resistance she’d been clinging to had been shattered. She’d tried to bolster it again when he’d kissed her, tried to hold the fraying edges of her self-restraint, but she’d been yearning for his kiss, dreaming of it at night and so reason had fled within minutes. It was one thing to withstand her attraction to him from across an office, or standing near him on a cruiser. It was quite another when they were alone on a couch and she was in his arms, feeling his body heat, smelling the masculine scent of his naked skin.
Since the night he’d kissed her in the lobby of her apartment building she’d been actively holding him at bay, now she’d reached the limits of her capacity to withstand the attraction. And in this moment she couldn’t remember why she’d resisted so long.
At his room, Ryder caught her up against the doorframe. “I can’t wait. It’s a long trip to the bed.” He lowered his mouth to hers, opening her lips in one smooth stroke. She clung to his shoulders, melting, dissolving into him. An earthy blues tune played in the background.
He arched back, breathing heavily, eyes almost black with desire. “I want to savor every single second.”
He lifted her into the cradle of his arms and strode through the door. She’d never considered herself the being-carried-to-the-bed type, but the sheer masculinity of the action made her belly flutter, so she clung to his neck and surrendered to the experience.
He laid her carefully on the huge bed, draped in a burgundy cover and pillows. To her sensitized skin, the cool, crisp bedcover felt glorious, and she glided the back of her hands along the surface for the simple pleasure of it. Being here with Ryder was giving her permission to indulge her body’s senses in a way she’d never allowed herself before. She’d been raised to be in control at all times, to always suspect the media was watching, and that had carried over into every aspect of her life. Ryder was stripping down those restraints. But she didn’t question it; she’d think about it later.
He straightened and her breath faltered at the sight of his muscled chest and shoulders. When he moved to join her on the bed, she held up a hand.
“Wait. You said you wanted to savor this and so do I.” Emboldened by her awakening sensuousness, she took a shuddering breath. “Take off your trousers.”
A trace of surprise flickered in his darkened eyes before he raised a brow in appreciation and smiled.
She swallowed and nodded. “I want to see you. Once you’re down here I won’t be able to see you like this.”
Ryder unzipped the black pants with excruciating slowness, then let them slither down his strong, tanned thighs to the floor before stepping out. Restless on the bed, she wasn’t sure this was the best way to be doing this—not touching for the seconds, minutes their bodies had been apart was making her tremble.
He rested his hands on hips above his black designer boxer shorts. “Shall I join you?” His voice was deep and husky and she took three heartbeats to respond.
“When you finish the job.” She only just managed to push the words out, her throat was so tight.
Ryder cocked an eyebrow and held her gaze as he slid the boxer shorts down. For half their journey, Macy kept her eyes on his, but when she couldn’t hold back any longer, she glanced down his chest, down his full length. Light played over firm muscle definition, robbing her of thought and breath.
A physique like that deserved appreciation. It deserved worship.
Want was such a weak word. If she didn’t have him soon, she’d explode. She held an arm out to him and he came to her, kneeling up on the bed, moving closer until he hovered over her without touching. “Your turn.”
“I can’t with you there.” She’d need more room than he’d allowed her to take off the formfitting sheath dress.
“Try.”
Macy smiled as she arched to reach behind and lower the zipper all the way down her back, pulling one arm from the sleeve. She brushed him accidentally as she maneuvered and Ryder claimed her mouth.
The other sleeve forgotten, she drew him down, kissing him back with more passion than she knew she possessed. Her heart soared—the only time she remembered feeling this right was the last time Ryder had kissed her.
His hips lay over hers and she groaned. “Ryder, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“You’ll just have to last, because I want this to go on all night.” He straightened back onto his knees, one on each side of her thighs. “The rest of the dress needs to go.”
She lifted and pulled her other arm from the sleeve, then sat up to pull the sheath over her head. What had been mere anticipation was building to fever pitch inside every cell of her body, and they’d barely done more than kiss. Though, she’d been fantasizing about this since he’d kissed her the night in her apartment’s lobby. Had craved him since then.
He quickly disposed of her bra and panties, then his fingers lightly traced circles on her stomach and she shivered.
His eyes blazed. “You’re exquisite.”
Almost writhing with need, Macy reached for him, and he dragged her close. “I think about you all the time,” he whispered.
He thought of marrying her. Her heart twisted a little, but she ignored it. He’d said tonight was just about them, not about her work on the project or him buying her father’s company. And he was right. She pushed away everything in her mind but him and raised her mouth to his and hovered. “Kiss me.”
“My absolute pleasure,” he said as his head angled down. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and her lips caught it. She sucked, gently at first, but as his hips bucked against hers, she applied more pressure until he moaned, his body pressing along hers with delicious pressure. Her heart pounded, her need for him growing to epic proportions—beyond anything she’d experienced, so intense it would have scared her had it been anyone by Ryder. He somehow made her feel safe and out of control at the same time.
His mouth wrenched away and he trailed wet kisses down her throat to her breast, sucking, grazing his teeth over the tip. Her body contracted, muscles pulling tight. Thoughts could barely form in her mind, her entire world was the feel of him, the clean, musky scent of him.
Her hands found his buttocks, her nails scraping across the perfectly formed roundness.
“Ryder, now. Please.”
He slithered down her body, his hands spanning her hips and plunged his tongue into her. Macy cried out. She looked down her body and met his eyes of dark chocolate. And then his tongue plunged again and this time it stayed, flicking rhythmically against her and the only sensation in the world was his warm mouth until she burst free, calling his name, unable to contain it, and then went limp against the bedcover.
She felt Ryder move back up her body, his breath almost as fast as hers. “Damn, you drive me crazy.” His voice sounded ragged and, eyes still shut, she instinctively reached between their bodies to find him. When she did, she grasped him firmly. He was hot and solid in her palm and as she moved her fingers, he rasped, “Macy, I need to be inside you. I want to be as close as I can.”
Her eyes flew open, body instantly alert again. “I want that, too.” She rubbed him again with her fingertips.
“Then you’ll have to stop that. I’ve been on a knife’s edge since that plane ride this morning.”
Her blood heated again and she reluctantly released him, squirming inside as the need rebuilt.
“Macy, I wanted this to last so much longer, but I can’t. I’m having trouble lasting another second.”
She kissed his salty chest. “It’s perfect timing.”
His pec muscles flexed as her tongue traced their contours and he moaned. Then he rolled away, off the bed, rummaged through his things, and retrieved a condom. In a flash, he’d sheathed himself and was back.
He moved over her, holding his weight on arms positioned on either side of her. She reached up to kiss him hungrily, wrapping her legs around his waist, inviting. As he surged forward, joining them, she linked one ankle over the other behind his back and held him there, relishing the pure intimacy of it.
When he pulled back, she lessened her grip and gave herself over to the surging rhythms. He kissed her and she clung to his shoulders, etching this feeling, the scents, his labored breathing into her mind, knowing she’d remember this moment until the day she died. If they never had more than this night, she’d own one dazzling memory of nirvana.
She flew higher, Ryder’s intense gaze on her face driving her higher still, the slow, sexy croon from the radio rolling and swelling in flawless timing with the build of sensation within her, providing the soundtrack for a moment of perfection. Then mounting waves sent from heaven crashed through her body, dragging him with her. He groaned and murmured her name over and over, his voice a spent whisper warming her hair.
He rested his forehead against her and even at this close range she saw a lazy grin spread across his face.
“What?” she asked, still breathless.
“That was the most explosive experience of my life.” He lifted his weight from her, moving to lie beside her.
Already missing his warmth and skin, Macy rolled toward him to reconnect. He scooped her in alongside him as a blues singer serenaded in the background.
She smiled into his shoulder, her leg draped across his. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel the same about the blues again.”
Though in actuality, she knew she’d never feel the same about herself again…or Ryder. The thought sent a shiver down her spine so she pushed it away and snuggled in closer to the man who’d just taken her to unimaginable heights.
Macy woke in Ryder’s hotel bed, with a lazy smile on her face. He was asleep beside her on his stomach, one arm above his head, wrapped around his pillow, the other proprietarily flung across her waist. Her skin under his hand was warmed by his body heat.
She started at the almost unbearable beauty of his back laid out before her. His shoulders were so broad, and in sleep, his muscle bulk was smooth and relaxed under his tan skin.
She ran a light hand along his shoulder blades, not wanting to wake him, but compelled to feel that magnificence, make sure it was real.
He stirred and opened his eyes. A smile spread slowly across his face. “That beats my alarm clock,” he said, voice husky and deep from sleep.
She withdrew her hand, unsure of their relationship now. How do you address your boss when you wake in his bed after a night of pleasure beyond imagining?
He reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Regrets?”
She rolled up onto an elbow, scrutinizing his face for cues. His features were open and relaxed, so she answered honestly. “Not unless you have any. You were upset, and—”
“Shh.” He cupped her cheek with his warm palm. “This wasn’t about my brother. The call hit me, sure. But I’ve been wanting you here so badly I haven’t been sleeping.”
She looked around the hotel room with an arched eyebrow. “You wanted me here?”
“It’s a bed.” He grinned. “I’m not fussy on the details.” His face sobered. “Though I had planned on taking you out last night and impressing you with a romantic dinner—and I’ll still do it one night soon. You deserve to be wined and dined.”
She lay back down beside him, not wanting to break the magic, but knowing she had to. “You need to think about your brother. The funeral will be soon and, considering the flight back to the U.S., you’ll need to leave right away if you want to go.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think I will go. It’d be hypocritical. And it’d start a media frenzy which would impact on my mother.”
She could understand wanting to avoid a media frenzy, especially about something as private as grief. “What about your other brother.”
“Seth.” Ryder frowned. “What about him?”
“Should you send him a message or something?”
“I don’t know.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “We’re in the middle of something…awkward.”
The tightness in his voice jumped out and caught her attention. This was important. “What is it?”
He rolled onto his back and threw a hooked arm over his head. “My father’s will split his majority share holdings between us, leaving no one in control. Effectively pitting us against each other.”
“Oh, Ryder, that’s horrible.” She laid her fingertips on his cheek. “Why would he do that?”
He glanced over and gave her a humorless smile. “He was trying to help us get along.”
“How would that make you get along?”
“I suppose he thought we’d suddenly become best friends, form a voting block and run the company cooperatively.”
Macy shook her head at Warner Bramson’s ignorance about his sons’ personalities. Or had it been a last-minute attempt to heal the divide between his families? Either way, even she could see it would never work with a son used to being in control like Ryder. Or Seth, from what she’d read of him in the papers.
“What will you do?”
“Obtain a majority in my own right.” His jaw was set. That was obviously nonnegotiable for him.
Suddenly, everything became crystal clear. She swallowed. “That’s why you want to buy my father’s company. It has some stock in Bramson Holdings.”
He looked at her warily. “Yes.”
“And to buy it, you need to marry me.”
“Yes.” He turned onto his side, eyes sharply focused on hers.
Her lungs felt constricted, working too fast, too shallow. “I thought I was your key to buying a company, but it’s so much more than that, isn’t it?”
He nodded while reaching for her, as if afraid she’d pull away. Well, he was right about that. She sat up, taking the sheet with her and tucking it under her arms. She’d known he was after her for her father’s company, but this was bigger…and felt grubbier somehow.
“Did you even want the project to go ahead? Or was it simply bait for me? Tell me I haven’t been wasting all that time on a sham.”
“It was part of my forward planning,” he said, slowly, diplomatically. “I just bumped it up in the schedule to employ you. If you’d left the project, I’d still have employed someone else to finish it.”
She dragged in a shaky breath. “But starting it now, this business trip to check on it, the marriage proposal, even this—” she waved an arm at his rumpled bed “—it’s all to secure your father’s company. It must mean a lot to you.”
He sat bolt upright, eyes wide and serious. “Not this. I told you this is between you and me and I meant it. A separate issue.”
She hesitated at the sincerity in his expression, but the turmoil deep in her chest spoke louder. “How can sex be a separate issue from a marriage proposal?”
“I don’t know. It just is.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “All I can tell you is that I want to marry you so I can get control of the company that should have been mine, but I want you in my bed again because every moment I’m not touching you is painful. My body goes into withdrawal and I ache to feel your skin, to kiss your mouth, to hold you against me.”
She felt tears threatening but whether they were tears of frustration, betrayal or because his words moved her, she had no idea. It was as if the hotel room walls were moving in, pushing against her, robbing her of oxygen.
She stood, letting the sheet drop, heading for the door. “I need some space to breathe.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, voice gravelly with concern.
She stopped at the door and turned, unworried that she was naked in front of him. Her emotional nakedness was much more disturbing than the physical. “For a walk.”
He held up a finger and reached for his cell phone on the table beside the bed before dialing quickly. “It’s Bramson. What’s the situation outside? I see. Thank you.” He hung up and stood. “The security firm says there are photographers outside the hotel waiting. My men can escort you on a walk if you’d like.”
Walls everywhere were closing in on her. Even outside this room, outside the hotel. Tears threatened again, but she’d never let them spill over. She reached for a bathrobe hanging on a hook beside his bathroom to give herself something to do, and tugged the cord tight until she felt the burn on her skin. It didn’t help. Her head still pounded, her lungs still struggled.
She looked back at Ryder, standing motionless, waiting for her reaction. His large, solid body called to her—invited her to fall into him, let him wrap his arms around her and provide comfort, make everything else go away. But that’s how all this mess had started. Her attraction to him on the first day he’d walked into her offices. She’d been lost from that moment. And yet, he’d planned it….
She took a step closer to him, arms crossed tightly over her robe. “You did this. You came here to charm me into marriage, to get your father’s company. You brought the media with you.” She kept absolute control over her voice, not letting it rise the way it wanted to. “And now I can’t walk outside. You’ve upended my life.”
His face twisted, eyes tormented. “I never intended this. I thought it would be simpler.”
The words hit her like a glass of cold water and she stumbled back before catching herself. “You thought I’d give in sooner? Fall at your feet?”
His face turned harsh as he shook his head. “You’re twisting my words. I meant I didn’t think the media would stalk us.”
“Well, they are.” She pulled the sides of the robe more firmly together. “And now I can’t go for a run to get the space I need from what you’ve put in motion by coming here.” She stalked back to the door.
“Where are you going?” he repeated his earlier question, but this time his tone was more commanding.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave the building,” she said as she shut the door behind her and headed for her room to get changed.
Ryder gave her two hours to work off her anger and confusion. He hated cooling his heels in the suite, but couldn’t deny she had a right to her annoyance. It’d only been two weeks since he’d arrived, after all, and a lot had happened in that time. The paparazzi stalking her after a three-year break, finding out her hand in marriage was a clause in her father’s sales contract, Ryder arriving and now explaining his own inheritance issues, her giving up on her goal of running Chocolate Diva Australia, and now their intimate relationship.
Two hours was the least he could give her to assimilate. He should probably give her more. But he couldn’t tamp down his need to be there for her, to help her adjust to the changes, to see if he could help. To just be with her.
After checking the bar, he headed for the gym. He found her alone in the expansive room, on the treadmill, skin flushed deep pink, hair in a damp ponytail, workout clothes stuck to her body. Heat flared through his bloodstream, imagining her panting this way in his bed. For him. One night was nowhere near enough.
She looked up and met his gaze, and for a single moment, her eyes mirrored the heat he knew was in his. Then she frowned and turned back to the instruments giving continuous readings on her progress, not missing a step.
“Macy.” He took a step nearer.
“Yes?” she replied, not glancing up.
Taking any response as encouragement, he walked over to stand in front of her treadmill. “We have to talk.”
“Can’t see a need.” Her eyes stayed fixed on the computerized readings.
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Okay, there are things I want to say.”
She waved at the vacant treadmill beside her. “So talk.”
He scanned the room, considering his options. They needed to talk, and if doing it this way made her comfortable, then why not? He mounted the treadmill and programmed it for the same pace as Macy’s. They walked for several minutes before she said, “You wanted to say something?”
“I apologize.”
There was a heavy pause when the only sound in the cavernous room was their shoes rhythmically hitting the tread. Finally she spoke, still without turning to him. “For what?”
“For everything.” God knew, he’d change this all for her if he could. Protect her from the fallout.
“Everything?” For the first time since he’d entered the room, she looked at him. Her eyes held a sea of confusion and pain. He’d put that emotion there.
He gripped the rails of the treadmill until the blood supply was cut off in his fingers. “Not for making love to you. Even though I should be sorry it happened too soon, I can’t be.”
“Me, either,” she whispered.
His heart skipped a beat. “Macy—”
“But you still want to marry me to buy my father’s company.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, deliberately, as if that could soften the blow.
She turned sharply back to the instruments giving readouts. “We have an impasse then.”
Impasse? Damned if he’d let them waste time in a deadlock, on either a business or personal level. He switched off his treadmill and whipped around to stand in front of hers, hands on hips, challenging her to look at him. “This is not over. We’re in no way over, Macy.”
She turned her machine off and stepped down, then strode past him toward the lifts. He followed. But instead of pressing the button, she headed for the stairwell. The gym was only two floors below their suite—she probably just wanted to run off the extra adrenaline. When they reached their floor, he overtook her and slid the key card into the lock before holding the door open for her.
Macy headed for her room, and turned at the door to her bathroom, seemingly unsurprised to find him behind her. “I need to take a shower.”
He shrugged then folded his arms. “Me, too.”
“You have your own bathroom.”
“We’re in this one.”
“No, I’m in this one.” She folded her arms, mirroring his pose.
Despite his serious intentions, he had to work to hold back a grin. People rarely stood up to him, challenged him to his face. He liked Macy doing it.
He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. “I want to spend time with you and we both need a shower. We’ve seen each other naked.”
She sighed. “If we get into the shower together, we both know we won’t be talking.”
He let the grin free. “Is that a problem?”
She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. “How can I get my head straight with you here?”
“We don’t have to make love.” He shrugged. “We could take turns in the shower and talk.”
Her hazel eyes dismissed the suggestion. “How likely is that?”
“I can do it.” If he put in a superhuman effort. “Are you worried about your own self-control?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Maybe,” she admitted.
“Let’s see, shall we?” After flinging the door closed behind him, he moved past her and turned the shower on. “Who first?”
She seemed to debate as her eyes crept to the closed door and back. Then her face set, decision made, and she lifted her chin. “You.”
She thought she was calling his bluff. Though, to be honest, his heart was beating so hard he was having trouble remembering what the bluff was about.
He grabbed the neck of his shirt at the back and yanked it off, watching her eyes devour his chest. Other women had appreciated his body before—he knew it had appeal—but no one had ever looked at him with the hunger Macy tried to deny. It sent every last drop of blood he had to spare straight to his groin.
He toed off his runners. “You happy to talk about the project?”
Macy cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” He undid his zipper and peeled off his jeans and boxers. “That’s what this trip was for after all.”
“True,” she croaked, as if forcing the word out.
He stepped under the water and began to lather up, watching her watch him. No way would he believe she didn’t want him to make love to her when he could see the heat her eyes were generating—enough to keep his entire house toasty in the winter.
He soaped his chest, then stomach. “Tell me about the forecasts for the first six months of operation.”
She frowned, eyes not straying from the path his sudsy hand was taking. “We estimate…” Her voice trailed off as he lathered his abdomen and lower.
He held back a smile. “Macy?”
She looked at the ceiling, lips moving quickly and silently as if reciting something. Maybe he wasn’t winning—maybe her self-control was better than his. He’d try harder. He soaped his face, before turning into the shower spray to rinse his eyes clear. Softly at first, then more firmly, he felt a hand on his back, tracing his spine. He turned slowly, and the hand followed, feathering around his side to his abdomen. She was still fully clothed, a slightly lost expression on her face, as if she wasn’t sure what she was doing.
He was sure.
He’d never been more sure of anything.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, under the spray. Then he stood there for seconds, minutes, he couldn’t be sure, just holding her. Feeling her close. She let him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He could feel her chest rising and falling as rapidly as his own.
“Ryder—” she arched her neck back to look up into his eyes “—what are we doing?”
“It feels right, Macy.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But is it right?”
“Macy, I’m not thinking about buying your father’s company now. You do this to me.” He snagged her hand and lowered it to where he ached for her. She encircled him with her fingers and he groaned. “No woman has ever affected me this much before. I’m ready for you all the time. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m able to have conversations at all.”
“Even when we’re in business meetings?” Her hand continued to caress him, making his breath choppy.
“Especially when we’re in business meetings. That blasted twist you’ve had your hair up in has been driving me crazy. I’ve had to clench my fists to stop them from reaching over and liberating your hair. And then taking you on the boardroom table.”
With her free hand, she pulled the band out of her ponytail and he turned them so she could tilt back and let the water flow through her hair—changing it to liquid silk. He leaned above her as she was arched over his arm and captured her mouth, water running down them both. Could someone explode from need? His senses were hyperaware, taking pleasure almost to the brink of pain—all because of one woman. One amazing woman.
He straightened, bringing her with him, and looked deep into her eyes. “It’s been this way for me from the first moment I saw you.”
She reached to kiss his throat. “When we shook hands?”
“Before that.” He grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head, then threw the sodden fabric onto the floor outside the shower. “When I walked in the room and saw you.”
“You didn’t let it show. Though I did notice you staring.” A shy smile curved her lips.
Taking advantage of her distraction, he slid his hands under the sides of her shorts and panties and slid them down, then waited as she stepped out before throwing the garments on the floor with her top.
He cupped her face. “I had this plan for you, but then I met you and I haven’t been able to think straight since. That first day, tasting the chocolates you handed me—” He groaned.
A faint blush stained her cheeks. “I couldn’t take my eyes off your lips that morning.”
He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, flinging it onto the pile, leaving her naked, like him, the way they should be together. “I wanted so badly to do this,” he rasped and kissed her again, hungrily.
Her arms wound up and around his neck, locking him in place. She swayed against him. As she moved he could feel the round softness of her breasts shifting across his skin. His arousal stroked across her belly. Her swaying was such a simple movement, but because it was Macy, it was so powerful he wasn’t sure how long he’d last before embarrassing himself like a teenager.
Holding her shoulders, he maneuvered her against the tiled wall where the warm water flowed over them. He grabbed the soap and slid it across her shoulders, down to the slope of her breasts. Then, wanting the contact with her skin that the soap was monopolizing, he rubbed the cake back and forth in his hands until they were thickly lathered and slid his palms over her beautiful breasts, paying attention to the peaks that formed hard buds under his fingers.
He let the shower wash away the soap then leaned down to continue the task with his mouth. Macy moaned and her fingers speared through his hair.
He rested his cheek against the sweet swell of her breast and looked up. “Would it be so bad, married to me, doing this for the rest of our lives?”
Before she could answer, he let a hand snake down her belly to find the place he’d been wanting to touch since they’d walked into this bathroom. No, since he’d woken this morning.
She gasped and writhed against the wall behind her, but still managed to squeeze out a reply. “Marriage is about more than good sex.”
He slipped two fingers inside her and claimed her mouth. “Good sex?” He kissed her again, lingeringly. “Macy, sex doesn’t get better than this.”
“Okay,” she panted, hands fisting in his hair, “phenomenal sex.”
He shot an arm out of the shower and snagged his jeans, extracting a condom from his wallet and quickly sheathed himself. Then he stood before her, devouring her with his eyes, burning for her. “Tell me you won’t want to do this again when we leave this shower.”
“I can’t.” She reached for him, bringing him back firmly against her, her wet skin sliding against his.
“Tell me you could walk away from this, because I sure as hell can’t.”
He grasped her knee and brought it up around his hip and finally, finally thrust into her. Sensation flooded his system. Macy. The feel of her enveloping him. Macy. Her teeth biting into his shoulder. Macy. Her hips bucking against his, taking more of him inside her. Macy. The slide of their bodies in rhythm.
“Ryder,” she murmured, her eyes closed. “Ryder.”
Hearing his name on her lips when she was beyond thinking, when her words would be instinctive, almost made him lose control on the spot. But he gritted his teeth and held on.
“Macy, look at me.” She opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. “Stay with me…because…I want you to know…this is just…about you…and me.”
“I do know,” she breathed. Then, still holding his eyes, her breath rushed out on his name and her body clenched around him, her fingers digging into his biceps, and the intensity of the embrace pushed him over his own edge where the world imploded in a cascade of fireworks and sensation.
He slumped against her, holding her tight, never wanting to let her go.
Hoping with everything in him that he never had to.