He frowns, going silent for a few seconds before answering. “I don’t know. I didn’t have the best childhood. We didn’t have much money, I grew up in a trailer and was known for being a troublemaker. The only thing I wanted to do was to get out.”
“And you did,” I say, imagining him as a kid living like that.
“No one knew the real me, you know? They saw what they wanted, and I eventually ended up acting how they expected me to. They didn’t know how smart I was—how I aced all my exams without studying, or that I’m good with numbers. They just saw a boy from the trailer park.”
My eyes widen. I know Ranger is smart, but just how smart are we talking?
“You did what you had to do,” I say, wanting to reach out to him, but I refrain.
“I did what was best for me,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “And you need to do the same. You can’t worry about everyone; you can’t save everyone.”
We stare into each other’s eyes, and I wonder what he’s been through to say that. He’s got a whole MC at his back; I’m sure they’d help him if need be. Can he relate to this? He’s right though, there hasn’t been much give-and-take in my family relationships recently. I’ve been giving everything I can, and they’ve been taking. I even gave Elizabeth’s sister, Helen, some money because Elizabeth normally does. Is it guilt? I don’t know. I like to take care of the people around me, but no one is really there to take care of me. If I fall, I fall alone.
Fuck, when did my life become so depressing? But, how can I even complain about it with what has happened to Elizabeth?
It all comes back to the guilt. I’m a policewoman. My cousin is missing and everyone is relying on me to find her, but my harshest critic is myself. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t find her.
“I know,” I say, resting my head on his chest once more. “Why is everything so hard?”
I’ve never whined about anything, but for once being vulnerable doesn’t feel so bad, because it can bring people closer.
Ranger clears his throat and mumbles, “Because you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”
Wait, what?
When I scoot closer to him and feel his hardness pressed against me, I understand his comment.
“Oh,” I say softly. “Ohhhhh.”
He’s hard.
And he thinks I’m beautiful.
Even after I just cried on him, and opened up to him.
And did I mention that he’s hard?
I bite my bottom lip, then lift my head up and look at him once more. “Ranger?”
“Yes,” he says, licking his bottom lip. “What do you need from me?”
“Why haven’t you kissed me again?” I ask, feeling bold.
“I was waiting,” he murmurs, eyes darkening.
“For what?” I whisper, feeling a little dazed.
“For the right moment.”
My gaze lingers on his mouth, the tension between us heightening. Unconsciously, I lean closer to him, and then he does the same. As our lips touch, it’s like a starting gun is fired, because suddenly, we’re all over each other.
My hands are in his hair, which falls out of its binding, the soft locks running through my fingers. His hands wander to my ass, lifting me to straddle him as he lays flat on his back, our lips still fused. He kisses me so deeply, I can taste the hunger on his tongue, the need fueling his desire. He wants this badly, just as I do, and the fact that I can feel it fires the heat behind my passion. His hands squeeze as he ends the kiss, only to kiss down my neck, making me moan at the sensation.
Suddenly, I’m rolled over onto my back, and his lips are slammed back down on mine. I can feel his hard cock pressing into my thigh, straining against the soft material of his gray sweatpants. His fingers skim my lower stomach, lifting the silk of my pajamas as he removes my top. I lift my hands for him as he bares my stomach and then my breasts, exposing pebbled nipples just begging for attention.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his mouth to suck on one nipple, and then the other. My eyes close on their own accord, my hands threading through his hair, encouraging him. He starts to kiss down my tummy, just near my belly button, then farther down, until he hits the waistband of my silk pants. Pulling them down, he hums his approval when he sees I’m not wearing any panties, then continues kissing his way down my right thigh. I help him take off the pants with a flick of my ankle, my eyes fluttering open as he slowly spreads my thighs, then peppers kisses up the inside of my left thigh.
“Ranger,” I whisper, wanting more than anything for the torture to be over, for his mouth to be where I crave it most. He lifts his head, hazel eyes filled with lust and smugness, then brings his tongue to my pussy, licking my center.
Fuck.
THIRTEEN
Ranger
I DON’T know how we went from her crying to me going down on her, but I’m not complaining one bit. Her pussy is shaved bare, and so fuckin’ pretty, it would be rude for me not to have a taste. I don’t know the last time she had an orgasm, but I’m going to give her one to remember. I ignore my throbbing cock and focus on her pleasure, sliding my tongue over her clit. She raises her hips, and makes soft moaning sounds, so I increase the pressure with my tongue.
“Ranger, I’m going to come,” she whispers, her thighs trembling. Fuck. She’s amazing. So responsive.
Perfect.
I continue to flick my tongue over her clit, the way I’m learning that she likes it, and insert a finger inside her. It sends her over the edge. She cries out as she comes, and I enjoy every second of it—the sound she makes and just watching her writhe in pleasure while I continue to taste her, dragging out her pleasure as long as I can. She pushes my head away gently, so I lift my head up and look at her, lying back, her eyes heavy, a sated, satisfied smile playing on her heart-shaped lips.