Page 73 of Ricochet

Earlier, I caught what he said about understanding more than I might think. I didn’t question it at the time, but after all of that, I can’t help but be curious.

He hesitates, then takes a breath as he brings my hand to hold it against his chest. “Someone I’m close to was attacked. It was bad. I wanted to know everything I could so I could be there for them. So I wouldn’t fuck up or say or do the wrong thing. Of course, I still did plenty of times.” He scoffs like he’s remembering one of those times. “But I researched as much as I could. I probably couldn’t be anybody’s therapist, but I know at least most of what I need to.”

“What about this obsession with death I have? Anything about that in your research?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “But the fact that it doesn’t bothers me a little.”

He nods like he understands. He probably does.

“Those thoughts I’ve had about trying to recreate that feeling myself do too sometimes. That’s, um…that’s why I had that panic attack that day in our lab.”

A look of realization crosses his face along with a faint smile. “Well, no. Nothing about that, unfortunately. I guess you’re just a freak. But it’s okay because I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

Leaning closer, he brings his mouth to mine. It’s another soft kiss like our first, a gentle press, a shifting of lips. I’m the one to deepen it, parting his lips with my tongue, seeking entrance. He grants it, and our tongues meet in a sensual dance that has heat flooding my belly.

I pull back. There’s no way I can survive another round right now.

“Fuck, I love kissing,” I murmur.

Because now that I’ve had my first one, a part of me never wants to stop.

“You better end that sentence withyou.” His words come out in a growl that attempt to reignite that heat.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe I need to see if I’d like it just as much with other people.”

That growl turns into a literal fucking snarl as he shoves me down onto the bed on my back and straddles my waist.

Then his hand wraps around my throat.

It’s not squeezing. It’s…possessive.

It surprises me enough to have a gasp leaving my lips.

“Fuck.” Stone yanks his hand back just as fast as he put it on me.

I don’t know if it’s because he’s worried about hurting me, which he shouldn’t be. I’m pretty surenothurting me is ingrained into his muscle memory at this point. However, if that’s what it is, it kind of pisses me off. I can handle his protective urges, but I don’t want him to hold back, even if I’m not quite sure just how much yet.

But maybe it’s the other thing. The thing about me not letting him call me his. Because that’s what it felt like without him using words.

His beautiful face is marred by another frown, and I hate the conflict in his eyes.

Reaching for his hand, I take hold of it and place it back around my throat.

That seems to add more conflict, but the tension in his body eases.

“I’m not made of glass, Stone.” One way or another, I’ll convince him. “I won’t break.”

He leans forward slightly, keeping his hand where it’s at. “How rough do you want me to be with you?”

“I don’t know yet.” I swallow, feeling his palm against my Adam’s apple. “I like this though.”

A smirk dances across his lips, making me want to kiss them again. “I can tell.”

He rolls his hips on top of me, grinding his bare cock against mine that’s currently thickening from the rush of blood. My hand is still on top of his, and I give it a gentle squeeze, moaning as the pressure grows just a little around my throat.

“I told you I’m not fucking fragile.”

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