Battered Not Broken (44 page)

A tear escaped one of Ally’s eyes and forged a hot trail of moisture down her cheek. It was the first time she’d really cried since she’d been shot. A few tears had escaped her at different times during the initial treatment of her wounds, but they’d been more of a physiological reaction – her body’s natural response to the physical injury. The tears that escaped her as she sat next to Ryan were more plentiful and definitely a result of emotion. “I don’t know what to tell you. This is where I live. This is my life.”

“I know. Ally, don’t cry. I’m not asking you to come up with a solution. But I have one.”

She wiped moisture from her cheek with the back of her wrist, not daring to open her mouth. If she did, her crying would no longer be silent.

“I want to go back to New York,” he said, his gaze still locked with hers. “And I want you to come with me. You and your mother.”

“But you said—” Her voice failed her, wavering and threatening to turn into a sob, like she’d known it would. She clamped her mouth firmly shut. God, she didn’t want to wake her mother. Not yet.

“I know I said I wasn’t interested in my parents’ offer, but things have changed. Drastically. I want to accept it, in part – I want to take a job at the company. As for the rest, they can keep it. I don’t need them to pave the streets in gold for me. But with a good job, I can support us and get your mother on her feet in a new city, too. I can even take care of your hospital bills, given some time. Everything will be fine.” He gripped her good hand, the one that was still wet with her tears. “Trust me.”

* * * * *

Ryan ran his fingers down Ally’s spine, letting them flutter against the small of her back. Five days since she’d been discharged from the hospital, and it was the first time he’d touched her that way. Heat burst and blossomed inside her like fireworks.

There were reasons why they hadn’t touched intimately since the shooting. Her injured arm, for one, though she wouldn’t have let that alone hold her back. The real reason was fear – fear for him. Cold and stark, it had unfurled inside her every time she’d looked at him lately, especially during the first couple of days after she’d left the hospital.

The police had come and questioned her and Maria after Manny and his killer had been found dead. Every minute spent speaking to them had been agonizing. She’d feared constantly that the police would figure out that Ryan had been present during the killings, that Manny hadn’t fought his attacker alone.

 They hadn’t mentioned anything about a third party being suspected. Maybe to them the questions had just been a formality. Surely they weren’t torn up over two gangsters killing each other without taking any other casualties.

And Ally wasn’t even sure if Ryan had technically done anything wrong in the eyes of the law. He and Manny had been attacked by an armed criminal who’d trespassed and hidden in Manny’s home with intent to kill. And kill he had. Maybe Ryan was as legally innocent as she felt he was. But it had taken five days to take the edge off her fear – thinking of Ryan behind bars like her father tore her heart into pieces every time.

Ryan’s breath streamed across the back of her neck, so warm and intimate that it nearly drove her to her knees. Her heart surged inside her chest, each wild beat reminding her of how incredibly relieved she was to feel his touch and hear his voice.

“Need help?” he asked, his fingers still gracing her vertebrae as he stood behind her.

She stared down at the open drawer that was half-full of her things. She’d been staying with Ryan since she’d been released and had seen her shirts, jeans, socks and lingerie neatly folded next to his t-shirt collection every single day. It still made her heart skip a beat each time she laid eyes on it. “Just getting dressed.”

She was freshly showered and had so far managed to wriggle into panties and a pair of jeans – a serious feat, given the fact that her left arm was immobilized in a sling.

He stopped touching her tentatively and wrapped his good arm around her waist, letting his fingertips skim across her bare belly. “I could help you into one of those tops. Or I could help you out of what you’ve already got on.”

The fire burning in her core crackled and roared as he raised his hand, cupping one of her breasts from below. For the first time in five days, her worries were relegated to a mental backburner, superseded by desire. When the pad of his thumb glided across her nipple, a small sound escaped her, half-whine and half-gasp. “Help me out of these things.”

With both of them injured, it was slow going. But that added to the air of intimacy, in a way. And within a few minutes, she was perched on the edge of the bed, her jeans and panties crumpled on the carpet at her feet.

“You’re so beautiful.” He stood in front of her in a pair of low-slung jeans – the simple garment had become his at-home staple. And they’d scarcely left home at all during the past four days. They’d gone out once for groceries and another time for Manny’s funeral. Other than that, they’d passed the days together in his apartment.

She was used to seeing him shirtless and to tracing the rippling planes of his abs and the intricate pattern of his tattoo. And she’d always appreciated the view, but until that moment, the desire hadn’t become overwhelming.

That was over. As she sat on top of the bedspread, her pussy pulsed to life, moistening. When she rose, there would be a little damp spot where her lips had touched the blanket. The return of her libido was as intense as it was sudden. He’d barely touched one of her breasts a few moments ago, yet both her nipples were hard and aching. His touch had trumped her fears, releasing a floodgate.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “So let me know if I’m in danger of it.”

He undid the fly of his jeans one-handedly – something he’d become good at – and kicked them off, along with his underwear.

His cock stretched hard and flushed from between his hips, which made him look as ready as she felt.

Letting her desire guide her motions, she reached for it. It felt good to wrap her fingers around his shaft. Sexual desire took the edge off her grief in a way nothing else had been able to over the course of the past few days.

He groaned and rocked his hips. “Damn, it’s been forever. That feels so good.”

She tightened her grip, letting her fingers embrace his girth, and pumped her hand up and down, her excitement fueled by the way he tensed and sighed and swore again.

“Ally—”

He stopped speaking abruptly when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the head of his cock, pausing for a moment as if kissing it before parting them and admitting the head inside her mouth.

He tasted faintly salty and just the tiniest bit sweet. It was a combination that set her heart racing as she took him deeper, allowing her tongue to caress his shaft from below.

She closed her eyes as his skin slid smooth and hot against the slick inside surfaces of her mouth. It was a snug fit, but an arousing one. She placed a hand on his hip, gripping him both to steady herself and for the simple pleasure of touching him.

“Ah, God.” He tensed beneath her hand, his muscles hard as rocks. He seemed to be holding back, resisting the urge to thrust into her mouth.

She took him deeper and retreated for a moment before sliding back down the length of his shaft, imitating the rhythm of sex as she let her cheeks go hollow.

Another minute or two and he trembled, his hip muscles quivering beneath her palm. “You have to stop. I can’t take it anymore.”

She pulled back, letting her lips and tongue bid a tight farewell to his cock on the last stroke.

Her lips were still slick and hot with the heat of what she’d just done when he dropped to his knees, kneeling in front of her.

His blue eyes locked with her dark ones as he looked up at her, laying a hand on the inside of one of her knees and pushing gently.

She had no doubt what he intended to do, and her every nerve seemed to jump at the thought, sending a wave of anticipatory sensation through her. She widened her thighs, spreading her knees far apart so her sex was exposed to his gaze.

She could imagine what he was seeing – flushed and slick folds, colored and wetted by desire. Visualizing herself through his eyes gave her a strange little thrill and she scooted forward, closer to the edge of the bed.

He tightened his grip on her knee, his fingertips denting her skin. “Yeah. Just like that.” Leaning forward, he touched her first not with lips, tongue or teeth but with his breath. It streamed over her skin, tickling and caressing her clit and every other sensitive bit of flesh between her thighs.

She arched her back the slightest bit, already reaching for release.

When his lips met her pussy, the effect was electric. She’d once touched an electric wire fence, years ago, and had been shocked by the bolt of voltage it had zapped her with. The moment when his flesh met hers was similar. She gasped as every muscle in her body tensed.

A dull ache flared in her injured arm and she consciously willed herself to relax. Once she’d done that, it was hard not to melt altogether. Her muscles didn’t seem to want to support her, leaving her spine to do all the work as she sat arched with Ryan’s head between her thighs.

He pressed his lips firmly against her heated skin and worked his tongue over it with abandon, stroking her clit and dipping below to tease her entrance, dragging the tip between her folds and pausing on the verge of penetration.

It made her want to squirm, but she didn’t dare. Firstly for the sake of her arm and also because if she moved, she’d probably collapse on the bed and never want to get up again.

When he focused solely on her clit, plying it with precise strokes that were anything but teasing, the tension in her core came to an abrupt peak. Her hips bucked in involuntary response as the first wave of climax swept through her middle, wringing pleasure from the untouched walls of her pussy.

She gasped, her breath hitching as she hurried to inhale so she could repeat the sound. The glide of Ryan’s tongue against her clit was forceful enough to send all the breath rushing from her lungs as soon as she was able to draw it in. Her entire middle was tight, seized in the grip of tenacious bliss, and her heart pounded, sending blood and heat racing to the surface of her skin. The pleasure endured long past the usual length of her orgasms, kept alive by the steady stroking of his tongue against her sensitive bud.

“Stop,” she eventually breathed. “Stop.” Even though her climax had ended, his tongue still felt good on her body. Unfortunately, it also tickled too badly to bear. She needed a moment or ten to regroup before sustaining such unabashedly direct contact again.

He pulled back and rose to a standing position, his hard thighs splitting her softer ones as he stood in front of her, his legs bumping the edge of the bed. “Damn, I need to be inside you. How do you want to do this?”

She paused to think, mentally running through an imaginary catalog of possible positions. Each one was complicated by either or both of their arm injuries. “How about… I could always be on top. That wouldn’t affect my arm.” She’d need to give her thighs a moment or two to stop trembling, but she’d be all right after that.

“Or I could be on top,” he said, tipping his head, “if I supported myself with one arm.”

“I think your cast would make that hard to do. Don’t you think you’d end up putting weight on your arm and straining your wrist?”

“Maybe. I guess you’re right. Let’s go with what you said.” The mattress shifted beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed, easing into a lying position.

“Don’t make me wait, Ally.” He ran a hand through the short fringe of his bangs, his gaze fixed on her as he breathed a sigh. “I want you so bad. Seems like it’s been an eternity.”

Her thighs had stopped trembling. Mostly. Willing them to support her, she rose to stand beside the bed, moving with more care than usual so she wouldn’t topple and hurt her arm. Before they could begin, they’d need a condom – though that hopefully wouldn’t be the case for long.