Winter Kisses (A 3:AM Kisses Novella Book 2) (6 page)

“I want you back, Laney.” His jaw redefines itself as his hand finds that tender part of me that’s been screaming out for him ever since that last night we were together. I let out a heated breath because I’m finding it impossible to focus on the finer details of our breakup while he rubs me into a sexual nirvana. Maybe a little revenge sex is what I really need. One wild night to work him out of my system—maybe then I’ll finally be free.

I wrap my arms around his neck and touch my forehead to his chest. My body writhes to the rhythm of his magical fingers. It’s obvious now that an entire suitcase full of vibrators could never replace the real deal.

I arch my neck back and let out a groan. “The thing I mourned most was the fact our bodies never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.” It sails from my lips in a hoarse whisper. “Maybe that’s what this is, one long, drawn out, carnal goodbye.” I look up at him because a small part of me wants him to refute the theory.

“Goodbye?” He presses out a dull smile while studying me with those dark unknowable eyes. “This isn’t goodbye.” He gravels it out with demonic intent. “What you’re about to experience is wild, savage make-up sex.”

“You’re forever the optimist.” My heart thumps because I sort of like the idea of make-up sex a whole hell of a lot better. For a moment I envision us snuggled up by the fire as we throw fistfuls of dildos into the flames because with Ryder around there’s no need to keep spare man parts hidden in my underwear drawer.

“Let me love you.” He strokes the hair from my face. There’s a tenderness in his voice, in his eyes, that I haven’t seen in so long. I want to believe it’s real, but a part of me can’t be sure. This is just the homerun at the end of some bizarre night at a charity ball. A cash exchange took place, and he was simply accepting my services. This means as much to him as the tax donation that landed me here in the first place.

“I don’t think you know how to love me, Ryder,” I give it in less than a whisper. Sometimes it’s hard to hear someone tell you the truth, but it’s also hard to be the one to say it.

“I do. Let me into your heart, Laney,” he pleads with those deep navy eyes as we stand just shy of his bed. “Let me crush every memory you have of the two of us and make something new, something better, something that never disappoints because it doesn’t know how.” He dots a series of hot kisses slowly up my neck, and a shiver runs through me.

My skin touches his, and then it’s over. I’m all in. Every last inch of me has been so thirsty for Ryder, and now, here I am, ready to drown in the cool spring of his affection while my entire body reanimates under his willful supervision. A part of me died last winter in a very real way, and, here he is, reawakening me, breathing life back into my soul by way of his mouth, his fingers—his bare flesh.

He pulls back and rakes over me with his slow gaze.

“Get in my bed,” he growls it out, sharp like an order.

“If you want me in your bed, you’ll have to damn well put me there yourself.”

Ryder gives the ghost of a smile.

And he does.

Ryder scoops me into his arms and lands me on the cool comforter. He glides over me, and my skin ignites like a field fire. Our fingers interlace as he pushes my hands high above my head. Ryder parts my legs with his and settles his body in the gap while his tongue takes free roam of my mouth.

I give an involuntary moan as my hips rise into him as if my vagina had just delivered a formal invite to the general and two colonels to invade my fort any time they damn well pleased—right fucking now would be nice. I claw at his back, raking my way down his granite-like ass and digging in, hoping to hurt him the way he hurt me. Of course, my injuries were emotional—a battered heart, a tattered ego. I could never hurt Ryder where it really counted—not sure I would want to.

His kisses grow erratic and sloppy as he traces his hot tongue all the way over to my ear.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

Ryder always did like to get to the point.

“Yes,” I choke it out because as much as my dignity wishes it could strangle me, my body would much rather have one last night of rough sex with an ex than sit alone and wallow in my righteousness.

“Too bad.” He breathes it hard in my ear as he settles his weight over me. Ryder presses in a slow, circular kiss over my lips until my insides buzz with delirium. “I’m not fucking you ever again, Laney. I’m going to make love to you, forever if you’ll let me.” He continues his kissing assault down my neck, and my heart melts at his sweet sentiment.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I’m quick to blink them away. This is nothing more than a one-night stand. I can’t buy into the lies Ryder is feeding me. I wasn’t enough for him or his family just a few short months ago—I don’t see why I would be now.

Ryder dips his kisses into my cleavage. He pushes my breasts together and buries himself in the mass of flesh. His groans are far more viral than I remember. I try to memorize each tug and pull, the way his teeth graze over my nipples, the hot of his mouth as it works me into a heated daze. He grazes lower still, raking a line down my torso with his molten hot mouth. His tongue unleashes on my belly, and my toes curl from the quivering sensation.

Holy hell.

There should be a one-night stand emergency response necklace they force girls to wear in college. Only instead of having some medical staff on standby it would be an entire legion of girlfriends who were more than capable of handling a sexual distress call. I can envision it now—me hitting the magic button until Roxy and Baya pop up on the other line.
Help, I’ve fallen in bed with my ex, and he’s gotten
it
up
.
He’s hedging his way to the runway with his motherfucking tongue, and I am completely immobilized. Send help by way of distractingly cute Whitney Briggs football players, hell
—
send the entire team!

Who the heck am I kidding? It’s more like send provisions. I plan on keeping Ryder’s tongue busy for quite some time, until morning to be exact.

I had a shift tonight at the Black Bear, but Baya will have to hold down the fort for me. I’m too busy doing what I swore I would never do again—letting Ryder sink his wickedly sexy mouth in places no mouth has ever traveled. Well, except his. He’s no stranger to the hills and valleys, the canyons and mountains of this girl’s terrain. He knows my every nuance, what the pattern of my breathing means, he knows how to distinguish each and every kiss I give him, and he knows how to pleasure me in ways that I never knew were possible.

Ryder gently lifts my legs until they’re sitting over his shoulders and parts my thighs just enough to enjoy the view.

He melts his lips over the most intimate part of me, and I let out a cry, knocking my head back into the pillow. There he is. Taking up residency in the holy of holies. I swore I’d never let him near me again, but tonight is proof positive that I’m weak, that whiskey makes me more than a little fucking frisky and auctioning myself off like some turn-of-the-century wench is always,
always
a piss poor idea.

He moans before pulling away and moving his sleepy eyes back up to mine. I hike up on my elbows, out of breath, and pant into him for an unreasonable amount of time.

Stupid, stupid me for insisting the lights stay on.

I want to
watch
? Watch what? The unflattering way my boobs roll to my armpits when I lie back instead of perking to the ceiling? It’s like my nipples turn into a couple of lazy eyes that drift to the mattress, making me look unnecessarily flat chested. I’m half tempted to hold them into position all night, but I’d much rather dig my fingers through his hair.

His lips curve just enough to give him that dangerous appeal that made me gravitate to him to begin with.

“What the hell are you smiling at?” I thump my knee over his bottom. “Get back to work.”

His brows peak in that dark, seductive way that makes my toes curl all on their own.

“Was I smiling?” His eyes continue their viral assault on my hormones, and I’m about to have a double orgasm without the satisfaction of having it derived from his lips.

“Damn straight you’re smiling because you and I both know it’s your lucky day.” Did that just fly out of my mouth? God, I love it when the whiskey talks, and takes off my clothes, and lands me in bed with the exact person I swore to never speak to again. Note to self, make shrine to whiskey before setting the whole damn bar on fire for housing the promiscuous poison.

He huffs a dull laugh. “Oh, sweetie, this isn’t work. This is a pleasure cruise.” His hand travels down past my hips as his fingers trace out my wet folds. He plunges a finger into my body and works his thumb over me in a circle.

A swell of anger fills me from out of nowhere, and I’m beginning to think whiskey is code for mild psychosis. “
First
, I’m nobody’s ‘sweetie,’” I correct him a little more throaty than intended. Although, I’m not so sure how one goes about critiquing the distribution of an orgasm, but seeing that I’m in bed with my ex, no level of evil is off the table tonight. “And
second
—there are a lot of things your hands are good for, trust me, this isn’t one of them. If it’s one thing that makes me testy it’s being made to endure waning fireworks only to be denied the grand finale.”

“Waning fireworks?” he mouths.

That vexingly hot grin crops up on his face, his chin dips with wicked intent.

“Listen,
honey,
” he growls it out alarming sexy, and my sweet spot starts in on a series of spasms. Crap. I knew the big O was knocking at the door. “The only thing waning is my dick, and I’m about to find it a nice, wet home.” He extracts his finger from deep inside me, and my insides wail to have him back. His features soften as he holds my gaze. “I love you, Laney.” His perfect lips twist, the muscles in his jaw pop. He’s waiting for me to say it back. His eyes latch onto mine and make sweet love to me all on their own. He rides his wet hand up my belly and strums over my flesh just begging to hear those words, but I won’t give them. That’s not what tonight is about.

And, perhaps, that’s not what we’ve ever been about.

“To work,” I say.

He growls before dipping down between my legs and burying a kiss over me. His tongue lashes out, loving yet violent.

“Oh God.” I grip the bedding and clutch at it as if I were in pain. A cry rips from my throat, and I lurch forward with my fingers knotted in his hair. My body responds without hesitation, and I spasm right into him.

I do love Ryder.

But I’ll be damned if those words ever leave these lips again.

Ryder

I close my eyes and lounge over the sweetest part of Laney’s body, loving her, molding my mouth over her while soaking in all the heated moans, the nail-digging groans. I’m savoring the taste, the way her legs cascade up and down my back, the way she’s pulling out my hair, hard, just this side of violent, but I don’t really give a shit if I walk away battered, bruised, and bald. It’s as if all of time had shrunk down to this tiny microcosm, and here we were again, a place I never thought we’d get to. I sink down lower and penetrate her with my tongue, spinning spirals through her again and again, half-afraid to stop because I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to visit here again.

“
Ryder
.” She grinds into me, and I bury a kiss over her. “Ryder,
please
.” Laney coils her fingers around my hair and pulls me up a few inches. She’s panting and writhing, and I can’t help but dig a smile in my cheek. For so long this is what I’ve wanted, and now that I have it, I don’t plan on denying either one of us a moment of pleasure. I lunge over her, lashing her with my tongue, harder, faster than she needs it until her breathing sounds erratic and her knees lock over my skull like a vice. “Ryder!” She bucks forward and holds me captive right where I want to be. I’d volunteer to be Laney Sawyer’s sex slave if she’d have me. This headlock right here is the reward I’d live for each and every day. I’d rearrange my world to have Laney back in my life. And, if she gives me the chance, I’ll do just that.

“Come here, you.” She pulls me up, and I fall over her in a heated slick. I hike up on my elbows and take in the rosy glow of her cheeks. It’s satisfying to know I put that beautiful pink color in her face—that I still have the capability to light her up from the inside—that she’d let me.

“Damn you’re beautiful, you know that?” I stroke the hair from her forehead. “You’re drenched from head to toe, and we’re just kicking off the party.”

“Says who?”

“My hard-on.” I take her hand and guide it over me until her fingers clasp on, and I flinch as if she kicked me in the gut.

“Maybe that was my wicked plan all along.” She rolls back, and her body glistens in the light. “Get what I can then get the hell out.”

I groan into her. “I can live with that.”

“You can?” She readjusts her head on the pillow as her paper-white teeth graze her cherry-stained lip.

“Why don’t you come by night after night and test me?” I swallow hard. “I’d die happy knowing I’d get to end each day with you raining down your perfect pleasure right into my mouth.”

She gives an impish grin. “You’re a dirty boy, Ryder.” Her lips quiver. Laney’s expression takes a turn for the serious. Her eyes round out, vulnerable and sweet like a little girl. “I’ve missed you.” She gives a hard sniff into my neck and lets loose with the tears.

“Laney.” I swallow hard while pressing a kiss just above her ear. I reach over to the nightstand and switch off the lamp. The lights from the Christmas tree pour into the room and cover us in a kaleidoscope of color. “I missed you, too.” I sink down next to her and wrap my arms around her. “I’m never letting you go.” My voice cracks, and I don’t really care if I sound like a pussy. “We’re going to make this work. My world doesn’t function the way it’s supposed to without you. I can’t take the fucking pain one more minute.” I press my lips hard over hers and she reciprocates with an explosive kiss that threatens to combust the entire damn room.