Page 88 of Blue Moon

“What do you need?”

“You. I need?—”

“Fingers or tongue?”

“Tongue,” I gasped.

I expected him to flip me onto my back the way he usually did, but he cupped my ass and pulled me forward instead. Forward, forward, until I was sitting on his freaking face. I gripped the top of the headboard for support as he went to town, his skilful tongue flicking and circling and hitting precisely the right spot. My hips moved in time with his strokes, and I came with a wild cry. And tears. Why were there tears? I wasn’t sad. No, I felt such overwhelming pleasure that my leg muscles gave out.

“I’ve got you,” Ryder whispered as he lifted me clear and tucked me against his side. “I’ll always have you.”

“And I’ll always love you.” I ran a hand over his stubble. The scratch of a beard still brought back bad memories, but he was gradually overwriting them with good ones. “Especially your tongue.”

“I’m a big fan of your mouth. It’s wasted on singing.”

A giggle escaped. “Did you know that my mouth is insured for ten million dollars?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.”

He caressed my jaw. “Tell me I didn’t damage anything?”

“It’s all good. So freaking good.”

Ryder made us breakfast, coffee and chocolate croissants, and we settled on the living room couch with Rocky. I flipped through the channels as we ate, looking for something to watch. Ryder might have been a rough, tough Navy SEAL, but he seemed just as happy chilling out with a movie as he did shooting at things.

When I saw a picture of myself, I stopped. I’d made the news again, and for once, it was for a good reason.

“Aw, there’s a piece on the shelter. They took the picture of Rocky from my Insta, but I can’t even be mad.”

This was the first in a series of weekly features, the reporter said, each highlighting a different dog from Helping Paws. Star of the show today was Turbo, a pit bull cross who constantly looked as if he were smiling.

“Didn’t you suggest the folks at the shelter pitch that idea?” Ryder asked.

“There are two things people love—stories that make them feel good and stories that make other people feel bad.”

True to form, after ending on a high note with Turbo rolling over and waggling his legs, the programme cut back to the studio to depress everyone.

“In other news, there’s still no sign of missing woman Michelle Johnson, who vanished on her way home from a night out at the Peppermill. Police appear to have no clues in the disappearance of the outgoing twenty-five-year-old, who was reported to be in good spirits at the time of her disappearance.”

I shuddered. “Glad I have a bodyguard.”

“I’m not sure what’s more depressing—that another woman has gone missing in Vegas, or that they did the dog piece before reporting on it.”

“Don’t knock dogs. Most of the time, they’re nicer than people.” Rocky must have known I was talking about him because he inched his way closer and rested his chin on my thigh. “See?”

When Ryder wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my hair, it struck me that this felt a lot like a family. Him, me, and a cute fur kid.

And I liked it.

I really liked it.

24

LUNA

My happy buzz lasted until Wednesday morning.

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