Page 63 of Rio's Release

Rio takes me in his arms, plucking the glass from my hand and setting it on the felt of the pool table. We dance together, my body pressed against his, swaying to the beat. By the time the song ends, we’re kissing.

After a long time, Rio breaks off the kiss and studies my face like he’s trying to read me.

“I want to show you something,” he says, and then he’s leading me by the hand up the flight of stairs. He pauses in front of a door and unlocks it.

It’s a bedroom. It’s neat and clean, again surprising me. It’s a good size room with an attached bath off to the side. I take a few steps inside and turn and look at him. “Is this your room?”

He nods.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this, Rio.” I look away. “I, um, am not very experienced with…” I break off, lifting a hand to the bed.

He slowly approaches me, and every step he takes sends a thrill through my body. Part of me wants to run, but a part of me longs to be in his arms.

Nervously, I lick my lips and keep talking. “Back when we were writing letters, when I was visiting you—you were the first man I ever thought I loved.”

“You were young. You still are.”

“I’m not that girl anymore.”

“What, the shy girl who had the courage to visit me in prison?”

I nod.

“I know you’re not, Shelby. But you’re still the girl who looks at me like you want to be mine. Am I wrong?”

I shake my head. He’s not wrong. I do want to be his. Right now, I want it more than anything. But fear skitters through me.

He taps a finger to my forehead. “Don’t overthink this, sweetheart. It’s just you and me, wanting each other like we have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Is that true?”

“Honest to God, pretty girl.” He cups my face and kisses me. He’s gentle, taking his time. When he lifts his head to look in my eyes, I feel like I could trust him with my life, with my heart. “There’s no one to tell us we can’t touch each other. But I want you to know I’m not going to press you for anything you’re not ready to give, okay? You say stop, we’ll stop.”

I find myself nodding in agreement, floating on a cloud of desire. This almost doesn’t feel real.

His lips settle over mine again, soft, tender, coaxing, drawing a response from me that I have no control over. It’s like my body is already his, like I’ve already surrendered everything. My heart says this is right, but my head keeps playingwhat-ifson an endless loop.

What if I freeze up? What if I freak out? What if he’s too rough? Though nothing in his touch suggests he’d be that way.

“Relax, sweetheart. I can feel you shaking.”

My bodyistrembling. I take a slow breath. Justgive it a chance, my heart screams, overriding every warning my brain is signaling. Giving in to my heart, I slip my hands up his denim shirt, cupping the warm skin of his neck.

My touch is like a damn breaking, and he backs me to the bed. A moment later, I’m on my back with his body stretched out on top of me. But there’s no panic this time. It feels good. It feels safe. He feels protective, and I need that so badly.

We kiss, and for a long time, he does very little else, until my tense muscles relax.

He shifts, and his hand drifts over my curves, then he takes my hand and brings it to the placket of his shirt. “Undo the buttons, honey.”

He’s letting me take some control, and I like that. I make quick work of the job. As soon as I finish, Rio rips the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor.

It’s the first time I’ve seen his bare chest, and I’m surprised at the ripped muscles underneath and all the beautiful ink he has going from his shoulder down his ribs. He’s also got full sleeve tattoos on both his arms.

It’s stunning work.

He drops his head, following my gaze. “You like tattoos?”

“I like yours. It’s all gorgeous.”

---