Blended (Redemption #1) (10 page)

A small laugh rises from her before she answers and fuck, I want to hear that sound again. I want to swallow it as I take her mouth with mine again.
Who the fuck is this woman?

“Well, it’s not all a nickname. My last name is Rye, so I figured it would work well with you.”

“Rye, huh? I’ll be damned.”

She moves her hair to the side, but her curls move back into place a moment later. “Mmm-hmm, now you tell me something. Why did you break your rules for me?”

“It was a risk-or-regret situation. What would you have chosen?”

The grin she gives me is not one that I’ve seen before. She looks content at this moment as if no one has taken a risk on her before and for some reason that truly bothers me.

“If given the choice, I would have taken the risk.”

“Precisely.”

A few moments of silence pass between us as we both absorb the truth of our taking a risk on each other. I feel the yacht hit a larger wave that rocks the vessel harder than normal for this kind of weather. I lift my chin and look out into the darkness at Chicago’s skyline in the distance.

“Come with me.”

This time, she gets up and places her napkin on her seat without an argument. I’m surprised that I didn’t have to ask her twice. I walk with her to the bow on the upper deck and stand next to her with one hand in my pocket and the other turning the whiskey tumbler between my fingers.

“Glance to your left. Chicago is showing off for you this evening.”

She looks in the direction of the Chicago skyline, which is lit up in all of its grandeur. “Oh,” she gasps and reaches for my pocketed hand. I slip it out and move my arm around her waist to pull her side against mine. She doesn’t resist my advances, and she takes her own risk too, by resting her head against my bicep.

A clearing of a throat interrupts us. I glance over my shoulder, ready to maul the motherfucker who just ruined this for her.

“My apologies for the interruption, Mr. Brass. However, the storm that was forecast to hit the city in two hours has sped up tremendously, and we are right on the edge of it now. I would advise you to make your way to the vessel’s interior immediately.”

“Thank you,” I say dismissively, and he leaves without another word.

Hadley’s body stiffens in my hold. “Are we going to be okay? I mean, we’re so far away from the city.”

“We’re farther out than I would like to be during a storm of this magnitude, but my captain is well trained and capable of handling her in the rougher waters.”

She scrunches up her face at my words as the first few drops of water hit us. “Uhm, I think we better head inside if that’s what he asked then.”

“I agree.”

I take her hand and walk her back to the table where I place my tumbler down and grab my suit jacket just as the skies open up above with a crack of thunder. Large chaotic drops hit us as the gusts of wind carry them around, extinguishing the torches with harsh hisses.

She squeals and steps closer to me, but we’re soaked within seconds. Platinum blonde tendrils cling to her cheeks, and I couldn’t give a fuck about the weather at the moment she looks up at me with want—or is it need—in her eyes? A need for me to keep her safe. I drop my jacket onto the deck and bring my hand up to her face to move the wet tendrils from her cheek. A shiver runs through her petite body when I cup her cheek. Her eyes are locked on mine as she leans up on her toes. I lower my mouth, a breath away from her red-stained lips.

“I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know,” she says before she closes the distance between us and her lips touch mine.

I move my hand to the back of her head, twisting my fingers into her wet hair as she pushes her chest up to me and locks her arms around my neck, getting as close to me as possible.

I think there is a flaw in my genetic code. How did I go from wanting to jump this man’s bones to wanting him to just touch me to calm my soul?

I’m surrounded by his warm arms while he kisses the life out of me in the middle of this downpour. His tongue is massaging mine as one of his hands moves down from my shoulder to the small of my back, applying pressure to secure me to his body. I break away to remind myself to breathe before I pass out from the lack of oxygen.

Rain falls steadily down on us; the drops are starting to hit with a heavier sting as the few intimate seconds of watching each other tick by. A drop falls on my bottom lip, and I lick it off with my tongue just as his lips crash against mine again. His tongue prods at the seam of my mouth, begging me for entrance. When I finally give it to him, he takes full advantage. His hand moves out of my hair and down my back to my ass. I expect him to cop a feel, but instead, he lifts me with both of his arms.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says as he breaks away from the kiss for a split second.

I’ve never been more thankful for the slits in my maxi-skirt than I am now as I do what he asks. When he’s comfortable with holding onto me, he starts to make his way across the deck just as a bolt of lightning lights up the skies.

Holy shit, this storm is going to be intense, and we’re stuck out here, somewhere on Lake Michigan.

He’s made it halfway across the deck when he stops and removes his lips from mine. “Focus on me, Rye.”

How did he know I was starting to panic? Some male testosterone instinct?

“Okay, Whiskey.”

His soft, yet firm lips find mine again, and I lose myself to his touch and osculation of his tongue once more. I’ve never been kissed like this before. As if I actually mean something more than just a place to get a dick wet. If I had to guess, I’d say that he’s savoring this moment just as much as I am.

I exhale contently against his lips as he pushes a door open. The raindrops suddenly stop hitting my overly sensitized skin. Instead of the water, a brush of cold air circles my body and I start to quiver in his arms. He walks down a flight of stairs without putting me down as he speaks against my lips. “You’re cold.”

“A little,” I say with a smile. My teeth start to chatter, and he kisses me once more as he walks down a hallway that I haven’t seen before. He sets me down on my feet when he comes to a stop outside of a stateroom door.

I use this opportunity to take in the sight of him. His white button-down is plastered against his chest, showing off his rather impressive body. A moan unintentionally escapes my lips as he swings the double doors open.

“Like what you see?” he asks without a hint of cockiness in his voice. He’s genuinely curious about my opinion of his physique.

I purse my lips. “Yes.”

The smile that I receive in reaction would soak my panties if they weren’t already wet.

“I’m glad. Come in and let’s get you warmed up,” he says as he leads me through the doors. “This is the master, and it’s where I stay when I take an overnight trip,” he says as he disappears through another door. I glance around the room that’s encased in dark wood walls, varnished to a high gloss. There is a row of windows that wrap around the room in a half circle, which are now covered with storm shutters. His bed sits against the only flat wall next to the double doors we came through, and there’s a seating area on the other side of the room. It’s such a warm and inviting space. I’m surprised it’s not decorated in all whites with straight lines and an overuse of odd shaped objects . . . it’s just . . . normal. Pricey and elegant, yet normal. He comes back into the large bedroom with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“You can wear these since your clothes are soaked through, but I think that you should take a shower to warm up first. I would hate to be the reason you catch a cold or possibly something worse.”

He sets the clothes on his bed before walking through another door. I slip my shoes off in his bedroom before following behind him. When I get to the bathroom, he’s already removed his shirt, and I stare at his bare muscular back that, to my surprise, is covered with an intricate black and gray tattoo. When he reaches into the shower to turn it on, I use the brief movement to study it; the tattoo hugs his shoulders and moves down across his back as if it’s going to disappear underneath the hem of his boxers, but it stops right at it. The tattoo is of a detailed forest. I’ve not seen so much detail in a single tattoo before: it’s stunning. It’s dark, wild, and sexy as hell. I’m transfixed watching his muscles move underneath his marked skin when he turns around and freezes, bringing my attention back to him instead of his body. His eyes pause at my breasts, and I glance down, wondering what the hell has caught his attention as much as his tattoo caught mine.

My nipples are hard from the cold, but they harden even further from his gaze. My lacy white crop top has left absolutely nothing to the imagination since I didn’t bother with a bra today.

“Jesus,” he says under his breath before breathing hard through his nose.

I close the distance between us and press my chest against his before I lift up on my toes to kiss him again. His lips are addictive, and if it’s all that he’s willing to give me tonight, then I’ll take it.

His arms weave around my waist again as his lips work against mine before I feel his smile against mine. I slowly open my eyes and gaze up at him as if I’m in his trance.

“I broke my rules for you, Hadley. Please, don’t make me do it again.”

“Breaking them worked in your favor, though, didn’t it?” I try to make a point, which I doubt he’ll go for.

“You’re right, it did, but if I fuck you right now, then you won’t come back to me.”

I pause because he’s got me pinned. He’s exactly right, regardless of what I try to convince myself of—so much so that I’m at a loss for words. He takes my silence as my acknowledgment of his statement because he lets go of me and presses his lips to the top of my head before walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom. We’ve hit some rough water, and I’m feeling rather queasy. Wade knocks on the door before cracking it open and allowing himself in. He takes in the view of me in his clothing before frowning, “You’re too pale. Are you okay?”

I shrug as I finish rolling his sweatpants around my waist to ensure that they don’t fall off and take a seat on the cream-colored couch. “Not entirely. I’m feeling ill.”