Page 111 of Aced (Driven 4)
“Rylee.” His voice. That sexy, sleep-drugged voice that calls to me as he says my name and owns my soul.
“Yeah. It’s me.” And I mean it in every sense of the word. His emerald eyes widen and lips part in shock as he pulls me into him. One arm wraps around my back and the other cradles the back of my head as he presses me into his chest.
Our hearts connect. His feels like it wants to jump out of his chest and collide with mine as it beats an erratic yet familiar rhythm that is one hundred percent ours.
His hands hold me tight and don’t let go. He’s already lost me once, and I love the knowledge he’s going to make damn sure I’m not going to leave again.
The scrape of his stubble as he rubs his cheek against mine, a subtle sting of coarse to soft tells me this is real, this is him, and I am loved. Irrevocably.
The scent of soap and shampoo still lingers from his shower. The smell of home, of comfort . . . of safety as I breathe him in.
Everything seems so new and yet so familiar all at the same time. Whoever said the only way to find yourself is to get completely lost, knew exactly what they were talking about.
His hand fists my hair and pulls my head back. Emerald eyes own my soul when they meet mine. They ask if this is a dream, if I’m really here, and I do the only thing I can. I lean forward and take a sip from his lips—the taste of his kiss is seared into my soul, one I’ll never forget—and it reawakens my senses the minute it hits my tongue.
We move in the darkness.
Two soulmates reuniting.
Two best friends grateful to have their other half.
Two lovers rediscovering each other in an intimate dance of tongues and the slide of fingertips over thirst-starved flesh.
Two parts of a puzzle finally realizing their piece of peace they’ve been missing has been found.
Once again.
PART 1
Eight months later
THE TURBULENCE JOLTS ME AWAKE.
Well, that’s what I’ll tell the twenty or so people on the other side of the door. Because it sure as shit isn’t the turbulence that wakes me up. No. It’s Ry’s hand sliding into my pants, fingernails tickling my nuts, and soft-as-fuck lips, kissing the underside of my jaw.
“Ry . . .” I sigh.
“Be quiet,” she warns against my skin, my body already fully alert at this unexpected wake-up call. Her other hand slides up beneath my shirt. Nails against bare skin. Teeth nipping my earlobe. Hot breath against my neck. “Your mom has Ace. You were asleep. And I was horny.”
Well, damn.
I glance at the cabin door, visually make sure the latch is set to lock before I lay my head back and close my eyes. Her tongue then does something to me that sends a jolt of electricity straight down my spine connecting to where her fingers are slowly stroking me.
“Horny is good.” Her lips meet mine as she climbs astride me. Tongues and teeth. Greed and need. Wet against hard. Goddamn she’s hot. Sexy fucking hot. “But it’s going to take a whole helluva lot more to get me to tell you where we are going.”
The stutter in her movement tells me I’m right, know her angle: confession by orgasm. Not a bad way to be tortured but my lips are sealed.
Maybe I’ll wait to tell her though. I’ve been to a lot of places with her, but the mile-high club isn’t one of them.
Maybe it’s time to venture there.
She sits up, a taunt in her eye and determination on her face. But that pout on her lips tells me she’s game to change my mind.
Change away, Ryles.
“Guess I’ll just have to take care of myself then.”
Don’t you dare. My eyes say it but lips don’t. I’m too goddamn focused on her hands traveling over her tits, hard nipples visible through the thin cotton, down to where her fingers pull up her loose skirt inch by fucking inch. And then they disappear beneath the flowy fabric so I can’t see shit.
