Page 59 of Wicked

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated my ass. There’s more, isn’t there?”

He’s so smart, but telling him the rest can put him in further danger.

“What hold does he have over you, Harper?”

“A promise. And I never spoke of him to April or the other kids because he was never interested in spending time with them. So why get them invested in Shephard and his life by speaking of him? Does that make sense?”

“More than you can imagine. I was never interested in ‘complicated.’ Do so and I’d be hooked. Make sense of that.”

“Relationships are complicated. The reason you nail and bail. Or you stick with open relationships. Less complicated when you’re ready to end them.”

He shoves his fingers in his hair and blows out a sigh. “I’ve had a lot of drama in my life, Harper. I was done with drama and complications for a long time.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d go for the simpler life too.”

Ruthlessness grabs ahold of my heart. I get off the bed and walk to him.

“I promised to never break your heart. Don’t break mine before we’ve begun, before we have our chance for more.”

Grabbing the hem, I hike my dress over my thighs inch by inch. A rush of breath from him. A hiss when I strip off the dress, my last line of defense from his hungry eyes.

“You—” He clears his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You weren’t wearing a bra.”

“No, champ, not with this dress.” I slide off my thong and leave the slip of lace on the floor, closing the distance with my shoulders pulled back and my head held high.

I’ve seen the girls he’s been with. Busty. Curvy. Long, slender legs. They’re sexy, beautiful, goddesses.

“Live up to your reputation. Nail and bail. Hit and run. I won’t think less of you. I’ll understand. I completely understand your hesitation.”

I stop inches from him. Wait. Cold air whispers over my skin. Panic grows in my chest. My stomach knots. Oh, God, I’ve gone too far. I’m asking too much of us, too fast.

I turn, desperate to cover up my nakedness. He stops me with his palms on my hips. Ryker pulls me to him, this soft and gentle pull, as though I’ll break beneath his touch. His thick thighs fall to the sides. He brings me forward until I’m cocooned by their strength. And when he rests his head in the valley of my breasts, his hands splayed on my hips in this hot, possessive hold, I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“I want to touch you. I won’t bail.” His breath is warm on my skin. “If we do this, we make it real and long lasting, Harper. I won’t settle for anything less.”

He spreads his fingers over my hips. His hands are so big, his thumbs rest alongside my belly button. His hold is one of possession, pure and simple. What my father felt for my mother. I’ve seen them in this same pose after my father returned from a long trip or won a rough fight. Except he’d be on his knees.

“Tell me it’s what you want too. Keep your word you won’t break my heart, and I’ll do anything for you.”

I tremble with need and fear from the force of his words. Ryker has a heart of gold and good intentions, but I’ve seen an angel become a monster when someone is taken from him.

His hands slide up my sides. He cups and holds the weight of my breasts. They’re small in his massive palms.

“I’m not enough.”

“Wrong, babe. You’re what’s missing from my life. What will make me whole. Kindness, strength, beauty inside and out, laughter and happiness when I can get it out of you. I can be all optimistic, philosophical, and shit and say that your past doesn’t define you, but that’s the easy way out.”

He caresses down my back and settles his big paws on my butt. The delicious pressure from his fingertips, the warmth from his palms, the roughened-up skin adding friction to the heat . . . My body reverberates with hot need, and I’m a proverbial tuning fork that can’t stop tingling with life whenever he’s near.

“Ryker.” I’m breathless, panting.

He rubs and kneads my flesh. The rhythm and pressure are slow and hard, like my breaths when I’m running. Breathing in and out, slow breaths. And I’m pounding the pavement. The high of a run is something else, a rush that electrifies me to my core. That’s what Ryker’s touch does. Gives me a natural high.

Closing my eyes, I ask, “Tell me how not to break your heart?”

I don’t want to ever hurt him, but I’m doing just that when I’m keeping a big secret from him. I open my eyes. I need to see him.

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