Page 9 of Hook Up

The rooftop door slams as partygoers invade our private sanctuary. But this moment? This beautiful moment, our breath mingling as our hearts settle, belongs to us.

The brisk night air fogs our breath, but I’m not cold anymore. Not with my body pressed against Ryder’s, his hands refusing to pause in their exploration of my curves.

I’m not sure who taught Ryder to kiss, but they deserve an award. I can’t feel my legs after our lip lock. Hell, I can’t feel anything beyond the growing desire for him to keep kissing me and never stop.

He grazes his hands along my chin, peppering my jaw with kisses. “I’ve waited so long to do that, Gigi.”

“I told you to find me when you were older. Didn’t expect you to make good on the threat.”

His blue eyes blaze with intensity as his grip tightens. “Would you like me to stop?”

“Never. You’d better not make me wait that long again.”

Ryder smiles against my mouth before laying his claim. With every passing second, I fall deeper under his spell.

A peal of laughter carries over the air as a young couple strolls over, settling onto an adjoining couch.

“So much for private time,” I murmur, twirling a lock of his dark hair around my finger. “What to do now? I know, tell me all about your fabulous life. Start talking, Ryder.”

So, he does. It’s funny. Most people love to talk about themselves, but Ryder is different. Perhaps it’s the giddiness lining his face as he discusses his racing career or the fact I actually want to know everything about him. The man possesses a self-assured air. He’s confident but not arrogant, and confidence is sexy as hell.

Ryder is sexy as hell. So are his hands, which are intent on touching me at all times.

Not that I’m complaining.

When he talks about the upcoming year, I realize with his talent, he’s going places. Fast. “You’re going to be a star.”

It’s not even a question. He will be the biggest name in racing soon, an idea that is both exciting and terrifying. Exciting for him. Terrifying for me. Even though I spent countless weekends at the track, watching Ryder and Greg fly around the turns, I always worried something would happen. A split-second decision could end it all.

Could end him.

Reaching up, I slip a pendant from my neck, placing it around his.

“What’s this?” Ryder asks, trying to read the inscription.

“St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. Since you travel all over the world and practically at the speed of light around the track, I want you to wear this.” Running my fingers over the pendant, I rest my hand on his heart. “It will keep you safe.”

Ryder pulls me close, tucking my head under his chin. “I’d rather keep you. You can be my good luck charm.”

“Going to pack me in your luggage and take me everywhere?” I tease, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. When I glide my tongue along his skin, his grip tightens, a huff escaping his lips.

Glad to know I affect him, too.

“That’s the most tempting offer I’ve ever heard.” Tipping my chin up, I find myself transfixed by his heady blue stare. “Pack your bags and you can travel the world by my side.”

“My job would be so thrilled.”

“Who cares? Quit. Spend all your time with me.”

They might be lines, practiced in front of a mirror until he perfected their delivery. But for some odd reason, my skeptical brain believes every word from his lips as they flow through my heart to set up residence.

“Now that’s the most tempting offerI’veever heard.” My tongue swirls around his fingertips as they glide across my lower lip, my grip on reality loosening with every second.

“Then say yes, Gigi.”

Before I can answer, the voices of millions of New Yorkers fill the air, crowing out the countdown to the new year.

Snuggling closer on his lap, I wind my hands in his hair, unable to look anywhere but at him. “Seems I got my New Year’s kiss early. Whatever will I do when the clock strikes midnight?”

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