Page 95 of The Rut in the Road

“You’re going out with Ward and Vi tomorrow?” he asked, his voice a deep, vibrating rumble against my ear.

“Yes,” I answered. “It’s a private house party that Ward does every year. It’s a big house, out in the West End. They’ll have private security, just in case.”

I felt him relax a little. “Enough security?” he asked.

I frowned, but tried to keep my annoyance out of my voice when I answered. “The estate is also walled,” I told him. “And yes. They even let us know that they’d increased it this year.”

I felt muscles move as he nodded—I assumed he did, anyway. “Good.”

I didn’t mention the séance on Sunday. They had security, too, but it was a corporate party downtown on the top floor of one of the high rises. Much less capacity for security in a way that would have made Raj happy. And there was a protest planned for the plaza right outside the building. Ward and Mason had been talking about it today. I hadn’t mentioned that to Raj, either.

It didn’t feel good, keeping it from him, but I also didn’t want to argue about my job again. I was tired of fighting with him.

So, instead, I leaned against his broad back as he washed the dishes, feeling the movement of muscle under his skin, just listening to his breath and heart.

“Are you going to stay there all night?” he asked, finally, and I realized that he’d finished the dishes and had even dried off his hands.

“Maybe,” I replied, feeling oddly vulnerable.

He let out a sigh, then turned away from the sink, forcing me to step back and let go. I looked up at him, my throat tight.

He ran both hands through my hair, the longish strands slipping through his fingers as he cupped the back of my head and tilted my face up so that he could bend and kiss me.

It was a gentle kiss, tender, soft, and slow.

I reached for him, letting my hands settle on his waist, surprisingly narrow for how big a man he was. I wanted more than gentle. More than soft and slow.

I chased his mouth with mine, trying to push myself up on my toes to turn the kiss into something more. Something deeper.

I needed something from him that wasn’t going to be careful and overprotective. Something that pushed the boundaries of what was safe.

But he pulled back. “Rayn…”

“I don’t want to talk,” I told him.

He looked startled. “I—” He swallowed, hesitating, but I was close enough to him that I could tell he understood perfectly well what I meant and that he was just as interested in not talking as I was.

I pulled myself closer, pressing our bodies together so there could be no question what I wanted. And no question that I knew what he wanted.

He made a small sound in the back of his throat, the muscles in his body tight and tense.

And then he made a decision, and his body uncoiled, hands dropping to my butt and heaving me upward.

I gasped, throwing my arms around his neck to hold on, spreading my legs to hook them around his hips.

He growled, one hand staying under my backside to hold me up, the other spreading wide across my lumbar spine, pulling me tight against his stomach and chest. I kissed him roughly, teeth scraping against his before I sucked his lower lip into my mouth.

He turned, setting me on the counter so that he could pull my mouth more tightly against his with one hand, claiming my mouth with his tongue, a low rumble in his chest vibrating against mine. I felt more than heard myself whimper, clinging to his neck and pushing as much of my body against his as I could.

He tore his mouth from mine. “Fuck, Rayn,” he breathed.

“Yes,” I agreed. I wanted him to.

He didn’t reply to that, instead burying his face in the side of my neck, nuzzling and licking and, occasionally, sucking gently.

It felt good. Really good.

I needed more.