Gena Showalter - Can't Let Go

The urge to soften against him was insistent, but she somehow found the strength to step backward rather than forward. Now wasn’t the time for romance.

“How’d you get here so quickly?” Wait. “How’d you know my location?”

A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “I was following the pair before you spotted them.”

Of course he was. Sexy warrior. “Were you able to learn anything about the woman?”

“Nothing. A shameless flirt spy-blocked me.” He flicked a lock of hair from Ryanne’s shoulder, his knuckles brushing against her skin. Warm tingles erupted.

She gasped while he peered down at his hand, as if shocked by what it had just done. Was he experiencing tingles of his own?

Was she getting to him at last?

Little fires ignited in different parts of her body, until every inch of her burned. “Why would I ever entertain shame, cowboy?” A breathless note stole into her tone. “Flirting is fun for everyone involved.”

Before he could respond, Virgil Porter and Anthony Rodriguez rounded the corner.

Virgil—Daniel’s dad—tipped his baseball cap in greeting as he passed. Anthony, owner of Style Me Tender Salon, waved. The two were best friends and daily checkers partners, and while they didn’t stop to chat, they did slow down to eavesdrop.

“Very subtle, Mr. Porter.” Jude threw the universal sign for I’m watching you at Virgil. “But I’m on to your tricks.”

“I told you to call me Virgil, son. And FYI, I have no tricks. I just wish you’d use your outside voice so we could hear your conversation better.” He never even glanced over his shoulder, just kept moseying along. To Anthony he muttered, “Did I use that there acronym right or not?”

“Yep, sure did,” Anthony replied, “but really the only acronyms you need to know are WTF and GOML. Wait! Too Fast and Get Off My Lawn.”

The two disappeared around the next corner.

Adorable old bears.

“I need to speak with you. Privately,” Jude said to Ryanne.

Uh-oh. “Why?”

Determined, he clasped her hand and hauled her into the nearest alley. Then he backed her into the brick wall, looming over her, his narrowed eyes glaring daggers at her. “I told you there would be consequences if you followed a man in Dushku’s employ.”

She tried to focus on his anger, she did, but her brain short-circuited. This was the closest she’d ever been to Jude, and she was having trouble catching her breath. Her blood heated another thousand degrees, and her skin tingled worse than ever before, little quivers rocking her on her feet.

Just then, she didn’t want to make him laugh; she wanted to make him hot.

Led by desire, logic nowhere to be found, she wrapped her arms around his neck and combed her fingers through his hair.

He didn’t jump away. “What are you doing?” His ragged voice was as potent as a caress.

Why not tell him the truth? She licked her lips, reveling as his eyes followed the motion. “I think I’m...seducing you.”

“You think?” he croaked.

“I’ve never done this before.” Others had tried to seduce her, but this was her first attempt. “For a long time, I had serious trust issues and didn’t date. When I decided there were good guys in the world, I wasn’t attracted to anyone...until you.”

He gulped. “How long since your last date?”

“Two and a half years,” she said, toying with the ends of his hair.

He stiffened but still didn’t jump away. “Were you cheated on?”

Growing bolder, she plucked at his collar, her nails lightly scraping his heated skin. “Twice my mother slept with my boyfriends. And the things I’ve seen at the bar...” With a nibble on her bottom lip, she asked, “What about you? How long since you—”

“Two and a half years.” Another croak.

Ohhh. They had more in common than she’d realized. And the fact that they’d remained alone for the exact same amount of time, well, the odds had to be astronomical.

“Jude?” Wait. What did she want to ask him?

For a moment, he ceased moving, perhaps even ceased breathing. Then he took two steps back. Oh, heck no. He wasn’t leaving her, not now. She fisted his shirt and tugged him forward, and the impromptu action caused him to stumble.

She opened her mouth to tell him she was sorry, but suddenly found herself plastered against his chest, speaking a talent beyond her. Their gazes clashed. His eyes sizzled with molten awareness. Again he stopped breathing. And this time, so did she...

“I should go,” he rasped, even as he braced his palms flat on the brick, caging her in. A predator who’d just captured prey.

This prey wanted to be devoured.

Her pulse points hammered and throbbed as his body heat enveloped her. Scorching waves of agony and ecstasy swept over her, destroying her but also making her into a new woman.

Jude’s woman.

This man had suffered for years. He deserved pleasure. While Ryanne couldn’t replace his beloved wife, and didn’t want to, she could help him forget the past, if only for a little while.

Shouldn’t she at least try?

“Don’t freak out, okay?” Her whisper caressed the air. She cupped his face and, not giving either of them a chance to think, pulled him down while lifting on her tiptoes. Her lips pressed against his scar, once, twice. The softness...the sweetness of him...

More.

He stiffened and wrenched from her hold, but again, he didn’t storm off. He glared at her, panting now. She was panting, too, the scent of him teasing her nose. Spiced rum with oranges and a subtle floral note; it wasn’t feminine but strangely—deliciously—masculine.

A whimper escaped her. She was so hungry for him. “You freaked out,” she accused.

He closed his eyes for one second, two, before focusing on her with fury...and fiery lust. “You surprised me.”

If she continued with this, she would stoke both the lust and the fury? Probably. He might like it, but he might not forgive her, either.

She had a choice. Stay here, and risk ruining their relationship before it ever began, or leave, never knowing what could have been.

No contest. Great risk, great reward. If she walked away, she would always regret not taking a chance.

Seduce...

“Did I also turn you on?” Slowly, giving him time to process her intention, she leaned forward to nip at his lower lip. “Because I turned myself on.”

“Ryanne... Wade.”

He had to force himself to put distance between them, didn’t he? It no longer came quite so naturally. “Yes, cowboy.” Yes.

With a growl, he dove down and devoured her mouth, his hunger a perfect match to her own. Their tongues dueled, creating a hot tangle of desire. Her nipples crested, needy, and the apex of her thighs ached, liquid need pooling there. As her bones melted, passion surged through her, flooding her. Move, she had to move. She arched her hips—contact! Her throbbing core rubbed against the long, thick length of his erection, and a groan spilled from her.

In the midst of the earth-shattering kiss, his aloof veneer shed like a winter coat he no longer needed, because the sun had peeked from behind storm clouds at long last. With a hiss born from raw frustration, he seemed to shed a thousand pounds of anger, sadness and pain. She felt their absence, the temperature of his skin heating, arousal ashing everything else.

“More.” He stepped closer to her, forcing her spine flush against the brick wall while smashing his chest into hers.

Ice cold behind her, searing heat in front of her. The warring temperatures bombarded her with sensation, a tornado of lust ravaging her. Inhibitions were the first casualty.

She and Jude were outside, in a public setting, but so what. And so the heck what if this man disliked her most of the time. He kissed her as if she were his last meal or the air he needed to survive.