Page 93 of One Spicy Summer

“I-" I start to answer, but Ry’s lips crash down on mine, swallowing my words.

His hands cup my face, angling us just right. He tastes like mint, heat, and memories.

God, he feels so good. Like home. Like everything I thought I’d lost.

When I tense, he immediately pulls back, guilt flashing across his features. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have, ”

“No, it’s okay,” I cut him off, resting my forehead against his. “I liked it.”

He jerks back slightly, eyes wide. “What? No smart-ass remark? No telling me to fuck off?”

I chuckle softly. “Nah. None of that.” I wrap my arms around his neck, grounding myself in him. “I haven’t read all your letters yet, hell, it’ll probably take me a year, but what Ihaveread... it changes things.”

I turn away, limping back to the bed to put some distance between us. “I hated you for so long, Ry,” I whisper. “Blamed you for everything. I used my body to fill a void I thought you left behind. But it wasn’t you. It never was.”

The tears come faster than I can blink them away.

He follows, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pulling me flush against his chest. “Shhh. Stop,” he murmurs. “I never gave up on us, Presley. Not once. That’s why there’s so many letters, I wanted you to have every piece of me, even if you couldn’t be there to see it happen.”

I twist in his arms, looking up at him, and what I see in his eyes makes my knees nearly buckle.

Love.Anger.Hope.

The boy I fell in love with.The man I still love now.

“Kiss me, Ry Ry,” I whisper, “and then make lo- ” I don’t get to finish.Because he’s already spinning me around, already claiming my mouth with a desperation that mirrors my own.

He lifts me easily, and my good leg wraps around his waist. The world narrows to the feel of his mouth, his hands, his hard body pressed against mine. “You have no idea what your wordsdo to me, Princess,” he groans, grinding against me, “but I’m about to show you.”

“Show me then,” I dare him, breathless.

He carries me toward his room, muttering filthy promises against my skin. Each word makes my body ache harder.

When we cross the threshold, something in him shifts.

Gone is the playful Ry, and in his place stands the man who was always meant to claim me. He sets me on my feet gently, then strips off my shirt in one smooth motion. His gaze darkens when he sees the lace bra barely covering my nipples.

“See something you like, Ry Ry?” I tease, unhooking my bra and letting it fall.

He doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t need to.

Because the way he stalks toward me says it all.

And when he growls, “Better hope that leg can take it, Princess,” I know exactly what kind of night I'm in for.

I bite my lip, heart hammering against my ribs, as Rygaard’s hands come to rest low on my hips. His touch is hot, reverent, almostachinglygentle. “Still so perfect,” he rasps, voice thick with emotion.His thumb brushes the edge of my pajama shorts, tracing the waistband with slow, teasing strokes.I shudder beneath his touch.

He leans down, lips brushing over my jaw, my ear. "You have no idea what it’s been like... dreaming of you. Missing you. Waking up with nothing but a fucking pillow to hold." His voice cracks, and it guts me.

This man, who has been my everything and nothing all at once, is still here.

Still choosing me.

Still fighting for me.

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away.

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