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Wicked and Dangerous





Pushing the rice on her plate around with her fork, she said, “She died when I was five.”



Mike winced. “Damn, I’m sorry.”



“It’s all right.” She gave him a little smile. “It was a long time ago.”



“So were you one of those teens who gave her old man gray hair?”



“In some respects, probably. But he was a great dad. I’m going to miss the hell out of him.”



Ryder fisted his hand on the tabletop, fighting the impulse to reach over and pull her onto his lap, where he could hold her close and comfort her.



“Jesus. I’m sorry. Again,” Mike murmured, looking more than a little pissed at himself as he leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t thinking. You just lost him, and here I am bringing him up. I’m an ass.”



Shaking her head, she said, “No, it’s okay. He wouldn’t have wanted everyone acting all maudlin.” She was putting on a brave face. But the pain in her voice was unmistakable. “It actually feels good to talk about him.”



“You were close?”



She took another drink of her beer, then gave a soft laugh. “Yeah. I probably drove him crazy at times with all the nutty stuff I would do”—she flashed a look at Ryder that he didn’t quite know what to make of, then turned her gaze back to Mike—“but I settled down once I moved out. I don’t feel the need to push the limits anymore.”



Ryder had a feeling she was trying to explain something to him, but Mike’s next question snagged his attention before he could figure out what it was. “And what about men?”



Her head went back as she gave another laugh, this one richer and deeper. “What about them?”



Mike shot Ryder a knowing look as he leaned forward and braced his crossed arms on the table. Then he grinned at Lily as he asked, “Any significant others?”



Ryder tensed in anticipation of her response, but Lily just smirked and turned the tables on Mike. “Any in your life?”



The idiot flashed his dimples. “That would be ladies in my case, not men. And the answer is not yet. But I wouldn’t turn my back on her if I found her,” he admitted, grabbing his Corona again and tilting the bottle up to his lips. He gave Ryder another quick look that set his teeth on edge, and he suddenly wondered if Ben had sent his brother there with the express instructions to irritate the crap out of him.



“So what about you?” Mike asked her.



Ryder held his breath and kept his gaze on the table. But he was watching her from the corner of his eye as he waited for her to answer the question.



Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she said, “No one . . . significant. I’ve kept pretty busy with work and school, so it feels as if my time hasn’t really been my own until now.”



“What do you do?”



“I studied art history at school, which my dad didn’t think was at all practical, so I also majored in graphic design. I’ve been doing some freelance work the past few years and have been making good money. I’d taken off until January so that I could go on this boat trip with my dad, visiting a bunch of different places, but when we got back I was planning to open my own business.” With a little shrug, she added, “I guess that’s still the plan, once this whole . . . situation is over.”



While they continued to chat, Ryder lost himself in his own thoughts, only half listening to the conversation as it steered toward Mike’s work. He couldn’t let go of the way Lily had brushed off Mike’s question about boyfriends, wondering whom she’d dated after he’d left. If it turned out to be any of the guys from his old unit, he figured he’d probably end up killing them. Or at least tracking them down and making it clear why they’d be smart to never go near her again. There’d been so many times, over the years, when he’d been tempted to put his hacking skills to good use and keep electronic tabs on her from afar. But he’d been fully aware of his own weakness. He never would have been able to handle reading about her with another man.



But it didn’t mean he wasn’t curious as hell about what she’d been up to.



After they cleaned up the kitchen, Lily thanked Mike for an awesome dinner then told them both goodnight, saying that she wanted to read for a while before crashing. Ryder bit the inside of his cheek as he watched her walk away, knowing it would only have led to trouble if she’d stayed. Mike was heading off to better familiarize himself with the surveillance equipment in the control room, which meant he and Lily would have been on their own. Considering what had happened when they’d been alone in her motel room, it was smart to keep some distance between them. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.



Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried, he changed into a pair of sweatpants and used the house’s fitness room for a grueling workout on weights. He then ran five miles on the treadmill, pushing himself to go faster than his usual pace. But it didn’t help take his mind off Lily and the reason they were hiding out there. He was still jacked up on restless energy as he grabbed a shower in the bathroom attached to the bedroom he’d taken, which was right across the hall from Lily’s. He did his damnedest to stay away from her, but after two hours of fighting the inevitable, he finally gave in with a hoarse curse and crossed the hallway. Mike was taking the first watch, which meant he had until 4 a.m. to fucking lose himself in her. And since staying away appeared beyond his abilities, he planned to use every minute of the time he had.



He didn’t bother to knock, not willing to risk her telling him to go away. And she hadn’t locked the door. He opened it, keeping his grip on the handle as he walked in, then pushed it shut behind him, flipping the lock. His sharp gaze had found her surprised the second he’d opened the door, and he didn’t look away as he took a few steps toward the bed, his heart hammering in his chest like a heavy bass drum.



Christ. He’d been so sure he could keep this from happening, but he’d been an idiot. She’d barely been back in his life for twenty-four hours, and he was already here. In her room. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Then he finally just said, “Fuck it.”



“What?”



“I said ‘Fuck it.’ I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you. I know I should, but it’s not gonna happen. So fuck it.”



Lily blinked as she set aside the book she’d been reading, unable to believe what he’d just said. She was so excited she wanted to squeal, but was terrified of ruining the moment. He was standing there dressed in nothing more than a well-worn pair of blue jeans that hung low on his hips, his body so gorgeous she was pretty sure she’d started drooling the second she set eyes on him. Broad shouldered. Long legged. Ripped and cut and lean, bringing to mind ancient warriors who fought to the death. She hated the scars that covered his tanned skin, but only because she knew that each mark held a history of violence and pain behind it. They didn’t detract from his beauty. If anything, they only made him more gorgeous in her eyes, since they were proof of how incredible he was. How brave and selfless and willing to put himself in harm’s way to protect others. God, if she’d been thinking clearly after her father’s murder, she would have figured out that Ryder would never let her get away from him once he knew her life was in danger. To do so would have gone against every natural instinct he possessed.



“Is that true?” she whispered, finally finding her voice again. “You can’t keep your hands off me?”



“Not unless you tell me no. You understand what I’m saying? You can always tell me no and I’ll leave you the hell alone.”



Pushing the covers back, she scrambled onto her knees. “No. I mean . . . that’s not what I want. I don’t want you to leave me alone.”



“Be sure, Lily. Because it isn’t going to be nice and easy. I’ve waited too long for it. And the same rules apply.” His hands flexed at his sides, his breathing getting deeper as he dragged that intensely erotic gaze down her body, then slowly up to her face again. His expression was raw-honed and deliciously male, full of primitive hunger and intent. “Just sex. That’s all I can give you.”



“Okay.” It wasn’t what she wanted, but when it came to this man she’d take what she could get.



His gaze got a little sharper. “You even know what that means?”



Her laugh was husky. “I’m not a starry-eyed virgin, Scott. I understand just sex.”



She could have sworn he’d flinched when she said the word virgin. “I don’t want to talk about . . . that,” he practically croaked, sounding like a boulder had lodged in his throat.



“Why?” she asked, her own gaze starting to get a little narrow. “You think I’m . . . what? Tarnished? A slut? Because after some of the things I heard Mike say about your reputation today, that would be pretty freaking rich coming from you.”



“I hardly expected you to live like a nun,” he growled, making a cutting motion with his hand as he stepped closer. “I left. You had every right to sleep with whatever guys you wanted. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill them.”



“Then I’ll be sure to keep the names to myself,” she offered with a quiet snort.



Something hard and male flashed in his eyes, his voice little more than a throaty whisper. “I could always fuck them out of you, Lil.”



Her pulse quickened. “You can certainly try.”



“Maybe I will,” he said, undoing the top button on his jeans.



Lily bit her lip, stunned by how freaking sexy he looked standing there glowering at her, his muscles bunched beneath his golden skin, his abs rippling as he came another step closer . . . and then another. His jeans were hanging even lower on his hips, the soft denim pulled taut by the massive erection it was trying to contain. He was right at the foot of the bed now, but she held out her hands, stopping him from coming any closer. “Wait!”



He’d started to undo the next button on his jeans, but his fingers stilled, his dark gaze locked hard on hers, waiting for her to speak.



Bracing herself for his answer, she asked, “Are you here because of Mike?”



His head jerked back, his straight brows drawn together in confusion. “What? Why the hell would you ask me that?”



“Because you were jealous,” she said daringly, searching his expression. “Is that why you’re here? Are you trying to rub it in his face that we’re together? To prove a point?”



He took a few hard, deep breaths, keeping her locked in his glittering stare. Then he growled, “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away. I don’t give a fuck about Mike. I just give a fuck about you.”



“Good. Then get rid of those jeans,” she said breathlessly, eyeing him hungrily as she moved her legs out from under her and whipped her tank off over her head.



He did just that, and the sight damn near stopped her heart. He swiftly shoved his jeans down, kicking them away, then turned to face her. With his hands fisted at his sides, he let her get a good long look. And, God, did she look. His erection sprang up against his ridged abs, hard and brutal and beautiful, with black hair curling at the base and two heavy testicles hanging low that were in perfect proportion to the rest of him.



It took her a moment to get her tongue working, but she finally managed to say, “Holy hell, you’re gorgeous.”



He immediately scowled. “Christ, Lily. You don’t have to lie.”



She shot him a stunned look. “You think I’m lying?”



“I’m no fucking oil painting,” he muttered, working his jaw. “I’m scarred inside and out.”



“You think I care about your scars? I hate that you were hurt, but they don’t change how I see you.”



He grunted, obviously deciding he was done talking. He crawled onto the foot of the bed, yanked her ankles between his knees and reached for her panties, ripping them down her legs and tossing them over the side of the bed. Then he ran his big hands down the insides of her trembling thighs, curved them around her knees, and shoved her legs apart, holding them that way as he knelt between them. And after that he just stopped . . . and stared, his chest rising and falling with the jagged rhythm of his breaths.



Resting back on her elbows, her face flushed with embarrassment to be so exposed, she finally asked, “What are you doing?”



He didn’t bother looking up as he answered the question, his heavy-lidded gaze fastened on the glistening pink folds of her sex. “I didn’t take the time to get a good long look at your pussy at the motel,” he said tightly. “Been regretting that ever since.”



She swallowed, her face burning even hotter as she felt her body respond to his sexy admission with a warm rush of moisture. She was swelling and softening like a ripe piece of fruit, her insides aching and empty, desperate for him to get on with it and take her. “Oh, God, hurry. Please. I can’t wait.”

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