Page 39 of Ramsey & Emerson

When I finished, I shut off the water, wrapped my hair in a towel turban-style, grabbed the robe hanging on the back of the door, then stepped out to face the music.

Ramsey was lying on the bed with his muscular, defined, corded arms crossed over behind his head. He looked relaxed and as if he belonged there, and evil people really shouldn’t be so beautiful.

He cocked his head, then smirked at me. “Have a nice shower?”

I stopped walking until I was at the edge of the bed, looking down at him. “How can you say that?”

His right brow arched. “Ask if you had a nice shower?”

This motherfucker.

“I swear to God, Ramsey, I have no qualms about bashing your head in,” I bit out, frustrated. “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

Ramsey’s face transformed from mocking to tender, and it made me want to bash his head in even more. It was in these moments when he wasn’t being a total prick that I wanted to fall into him.

He sat up, then flung his legs over the edge of the bed. I was suddenly standing in between his opened legs, and his hands were on my hips as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him. I had to swallow as I looked down at his near nakedness.

Ramsey Reed was built like a fucking god.

I’d known from the very first night that I’d met him that he was all hard planes and definition, but the tattoo blending over his right shoulder, bicep, and pec made him that much hotter in my opinion. Even though Ramsey was sitting down, he was so much taller than me that his face reached my neck, and he was looking up at me with eyes so full of warmth that I could feel myself falling. Plus, that scar across his eye…Jesus.

“I can say it because it’s true, Emerson,” he said seriously.

I shook my head at him. “How can you be in love with me, Ramsey? You’ve spent the entire handful of days that you’ve known me hating me and treating me like shit,” I pointed out.

Ramsey didn’t get cocky or arrogant. His expression remained earnest as he said, “I never hated you, Emerson. I hated how out of control you made-makeme feel.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Now that I know what this is, I can control how I proceed.”

“It’s that simple for you?” I asked because I had to know. This thing with Ramsey felt anything but simple.

“Yes, it is.” His hands tightened on my hips. “Nothing like what happened Thursday will ever happen to you again, Emerson.”

My fists clenched at my sides. “So, what? Are you trying to absolve your guilt?” I was so pissed that I had fallen for his sweet words. I stepped out of his hold, then turned my back on him, ready to show him the door. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

He had his hand on my arm, and my body turned towards him before I could make it to the door. “Goddamn it, that’s not what this is about, Emerson.”

I glared up at him. “Then what is this?” I snapped. “What the fuck are you doing, Ramsey? What do you want from me?” I felt like he was driving me crazy with his shit. “What in the hell is this?”

He answered not one question. Instead, he slammed his lips down on mine in a kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes. His hands wove their way up my face, then into my hair until my towel toppled off my head, then onto the floor. My hair was damp, but Ramsey didn’t seem to mind. His hold tightened as he deepened the kiss.

What did I do?

I opened up for him.

My lips parted on a surprised gasp, but I didn’t shut them. No. My hands climbed up his chest, then circled around his neck as I sank into his kiss. Ramsey tasted like mint and future regret. Still, I didn’t care. I was tired of fighting him, and I was tired of denying what he made me feel.

I. Was. Just. Tired.

A low, rough growl emitted from his throat, and I could feel the vibrations from it on my tongue. Ramsey’s hands untangled themselves from my hair, then worked their way down my body to untie my robe. I was naked underneath, but I didn’t give it much thought. I was too caught up in his kiss to care. Besides, I knew where this was going, and I was okay with my decision.

Suddenly, Ramsey pulled back. His hands were still on the sash of the robe, but he hadn’t tried to untie it yet. He was looking down at me, and I could only describe his expression as desperate, which felt insane since this was Ramsey Reed that we were talking about. The boy had the world at his feet, so what did he have to feel desperate over?

“Do you love me?” he asked, shocking the holy fuck out of me.

I blinked up at him, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

Did I love him? I didn’t know.

His chest was heaving, and he looked at his wit’s end. “How would you feel if you never saw me again?”

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