Chapter 3

Renegade

I can't believe this woman doesn't know how beautiful, how gorgeous, or how sexy she is. I can see it in her eyes; she questions it. I know from being around the family what an asshole her ex-husband was, but I didn't know it was this bad. In my mind I try to think back to the times I saw them together, but nothing ever stood out at me. Whitney just got quieter and quieter over the years, but I figured that was her personality changing. Now I'm wondering if it was all due to her marriage. I'm not sure even they know it was this bad. My mission tonight is clear. Show this woman how gorgeous she is and how bad I want to get deep inside her body.

"Which way's the bedroom?" Most of the time I've been around her has been at her family's home, not this one she's made for herself. As a couple, she and Stephen never invited anyone over. I always thought it was because they liked to keep their private life private – as in they were just private people. Now I'm beginning to wonder if there wasn't something else going on behind the scenes. The way she's reacting to me is throwing up all kinds of red flags. I purposely keep my touch on her light.

Bashfully, she buries her face in my neck, inhaling deeply before she points down the hallway. "On the right," she tells me, her voice muffled against my skin.

I turn to my right and walk us through the doorway. Once I'm there, I take a look around and my jaw almost drops. It's the most feminine thing I have ever seen in my life. It's completely and totally Whitney in every way possible. I'm surprised the fucking sheets don't have monograms on them. From where I stand, I can see that they are Tiffany blue. Once upon a time, I didn't know what that color was – I called it blue green – and you would have thought it was the end of the world. As a teenager, I didn't know how important the distinction would be. She made sure I knew the difference; she takes this shit seriously.

I let her body slide down mine until she's on her high heels, steadying her. "Take those off, Whit, you're not gonna need them the rest of the night."

She listens, turning to kick them in the general direction of her closet and it's then that I realize how much smaller she is than me. With those shoes gone, she barely reaches my collarbone. It's not that I haven't known but being this close, knowing that I'm going to cover her with my body in a few minutes and take what we both want, makes me worry about hurting her. I fight the urge to pull her in, cradle her head against my chest, and tell her everything is going to be okay. That's not what she needs tonight, that's not what she wants, and it sure as fuck isn't what she's asked me for. Her body wants to use mine, and I'm down for doing whatever is needed to make that happen.

"What do you want me to do to you? What's your fantasy?" I ask, my voice low as I move in behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. Not giving her time to overthink, I move my hands to her tits, palming them, teasing the nipples as I wait for her answer. When she doesn't speak, I make a vow again, pulling her head back against my shoulder and tilting her chin up so I can see her in the dim light the moon is casting through the curtains. "I'm going to give you whatever you want."

Her voice is breathless when she answers me. It's rough, raw, but it's firm, so I know there's no second-guessing here. "I want everything you would do with a one-night stand; everything I talked about at the bar. Use me the way I want to use you." I turn her around to face me so I can make sure she's being truthful. She's never had much of a poker face.

The rosy blush that's covering her cheeks tells me those words were hard for her to say and I'll be fucking damned if I'm going to use her, but I'll give her the best night of her life…or pull my groin trying. Lowering my face to hers, I brush a soft kiss against her mouth. "Birth control?" I ask.

Her chin wobbles, lower lip sticks a teeny bit farther out than her upper one. The words she speaks are low, and thick with sadness. "You're covered. I can't have kids."

The words hit my gut like I've been shot, but I recover quickly. This is something I'm not even sure Tank knows and I'll take it to the grave with me if I have to. "Doesn't matter to me," I answer shooting her a hot smile, hoping to bring the mood back up.

I look into her eyes, memorizing the way they appear in this moment. In the muted light of the room, I can't see the color, but I can see her pupils are dilated and cloudy with desire. I want to keep that look there and possibly add aroused and hungry to it as well. "You ready, Whit?" I ask.

"For what?" Her voice is hushed in the quiet room.

Leaning in, I put my lips at her ear, nibbling softly on the lobe. "Everything."

Whitney

My body shivers as his breath washes over the skin of my ear. I can feel the heat everywhere, I want him like I've never wanted anyone before. There is a part of me that wants him to take me, but there's also a part of me that wants to be a participant, and give him everything I've never been able to give another man. Reaching my arms up, I wrap them around his neck and pull him down so we're face-to-face. I lean in so our lips are millimeters apart; we're breathing the same air, and I want so badly to touch his skin to mine but I pull back at the last second.

Ryan's lips chase me, causing my heart to pound, my pulse to skyrocket, and a wetness between my thighs. When they catch mine, I let him swallow me up, I let him take the lead. His tongue is smooth velvet as it glides against mine, devouring me in a way I've never been devoured before. When he pulls away, I chase him. I'm dying to be closer to him. So when he palms my ass with his hands, I let my weight rest there as I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, pushing against him as he pulls me closer.

There's an urgency in our movements, in the way we're kissing, and the way our hands are suddenly fighting with one another. One arm loosens its hold from his neck and moves down to the waistband of his jeans, shoving his shirt up over what I feel are tight abs. As I pull it up to his collarbone, he wrenches his mouth from mine, allowing me to finish bringing it up and over his head.

"Wow," I'm looking at his chest and abs like I've never seen a man's body before. In reality I've not seen one that looks like his. He's cut in ways I've only dreamed about, all lined muscle and tone flesh with a tattoo on his left pec and another that wraps around his right bicep all the way down to his elbow. I can't make out what either is, and right now I don't much care. Tattoos have never been a thing for me, but right now I'd like to color both of these in with the tip of my tongue. I realize I've blurted those words out loud when he chuckles against me, small puffs of hot air gusting against my face.

"Whatever you want, Whit," he tells me again as he sets me down softly on my feet. My toes curl into the plush carpet, almost like they know what I'm about to do. They're getting prepared to curl for a different reason.

I want everything and more. A lot that we don't have time for, and a lot that I'm not emotionally prepared to handle. We have one night, and I want it to count. The way my life has gone means I might never get this chance again. I make quick work of his belt and unbutton his shorts, slipping them off the lower part of his body and letting it drop in a puddle at our feet. Our eyes meet and I'm breathless as I make out the passion glowing from his. Whatever this is between us, he's taking it seriously. "I want you to show me what I've been missing."

He growls – a rough noise that lifts the hairs on my forearms – as he sinks down to his knees in front of me, slightly pushing me back so I land on the bed. The force is enough that I let my elbows take my weight. Gazing at him over the edge of my body, I wonder what he's going to do with me once he gets my legs spread. A vague thought that he's going to not only worship but ravage me races through my mind. I'm completely on board with whatever he wants to do. Strong hands pull me forward on the bed, almost far enough that I can touch the floor with my feet, but instead, he stops before my feet can make the connection again. He leaves me hanging, suspended, and even that excites me. Getting up from his knees, he moves so that he's kneeling between my thighs and places a kiss on my stomach before he lifts his eyes to mine.

"Lift up your arms, sweetheart," his voice is low, seductive, and fucking sexy as he brings my tank top over my head. My bra is meant for sin; a hot pink number that is cut low. If I make one move too fast, you can see a nipple. I know, because I checked. My underwear? They match. I had a plan tonight. It's up in the air if I would have gone through with it had I not run into Ryan.

"Shit, why do you keep these covered up?" he asks, bringing his palms up to the sides of my breasts, using his thumbs to agitate my nipples into hard buds. They're pulling taut, begging for his mouth.

"Please, Ryan," I use my elbows to push myself towards him. He doesn't need to know my shyness, doesn't need to know that it took me a shot of vodka and a shot of Jim Beam to even put these clothes on and walk out of my house tonight. All he needs to know is that I want his lips on my nipples, I want his length inside my body, and I want to be screaming with release as soon as possible.

I don't have to ask twice as he leans forward and captures my flesh in between his teeth, scoring the nub lightly, before he soothes it with his tongue. I dig my fingers into his shoulders as he leans closer to me, spreading my legs further apart. I dent those strong shoulders with my nails, yanking against his skin, wanting his weight on top of me, wanting to feel it more than I've ever wanted to feel anything.

He makes one nipple stand at attention before he does the same to the other, causing me to grasp him under his arms and pull him up and over me. I'm holding him as tightly and as closely as I can. My subconscious is scared he'll leave before he's done, before I'm done. "Now, Ryan, I can't wait. Now, please," I beg him.

He spreads out over top of me. Grasping my hands, he puts our palms together and stretches them up over my head, entwining our fingers. "Hold on," he rasps as he slides deep inside me.

It takes my breath, the feeling of him stretching my core, of his hardness inside me. It's something I wanted, but until this moment, I never knew I did. I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, because Ryan is a thousand times more tender than my ex-husband ever was, even being as rough as he is. It's something I want, something I need. I hook my legs around his hips, urging him on, digging my heels into his ass. Even the words I'm thinking are dirtier tonight than they've ever been. Finally, I've given myself permission to be a woman who knows what she wants. Damn the consequences.

"Faster," I breathe out against the heat of his neck as I bury my mouth there. "I haven't come from anything other than my hand in such a long time, even when I was married. Ryan, get me there," I'm straining against him, wanting to let the feeling wash over me, dying for this orgasm.

"C'mon Whit, you're feelin' it, baby. I can feel you tightening against me."

He's right, I am. He's thrusting and withdrawing at such a pace, I feel like I'm in a souped up foreign car running the quarter mile. I'm heading on a one-way course to coming, and I want it so bad I can taste it.

"Just let it go, babe, let it go," he tells me as he shoves deep inside me, and let's go of my hands to tilt my ass. He bottoms out and grinds against my clit. It's a move no one's ever used on me before, and good gracious, if they had, I'd know what a spectacular orgasm was before now.

That's all I need. All the tension breaks loose and I arch into his caress, closing my eyes tightly, letting the feeling wash over me.

"Ryan!" I moan, feeling him spill inside me, as I pulse against him.

Like that, my world brightens, changes, and spins so far off its axis that I'm not sure it'll ever be straight again. As I try to come to grips with what I've done, all I can do is smile a sappy grin. For once, I did something for myself – damn the consequences. For once, I'm happy. With a giggle, I make a soft little pew pew because if it hadn't been for Renegade, I wouldn't be here.