Page 84 of Until You Can't

“Fuck him,” he said, his voice hollow. And yet, his eyes were glossy with unshed emotions.

I shook my head and tightened my hold on his shirt, drawing myself closer. I could feel the tension and rage coiled just beneath the surface of his large, muscular frame.

Ryan’s arms remained at his sides, but I knew him. I knew what he wanted. To touch me. Hold me. But he was too afraid to because of his anger. “I won’t let him come between us anymore.” This time his voice dropped so low the hairs on my arms stood. “I’m done.”

I rolled my lips inward, searching for the right words when I truly didn’t have them. Because I didn’t know what to think or say.

Last week, I’d been worried I’d lose my restaurant. Now, I was worried I’d lose my heart.

It only beat for one man, and in that moment in the courtyard, I knew it’d never beat without him.

“Look what happened between Maurizio and your father.” My shoulders fell. “You don’t want a lifetime of regrets like your uncle. You’ll save your brother because that’s who you are. You don’t quit on family.”

“Saving his life is one thing. Forgiving him is another.” He gently removed my hand from his shirt, forcing me to let go.

His breathing was still heavy and intense, but that dark look in his eyes transformed into something else. Instead of anger, there was . . .

Lust.

Desire.

Need?

He angled his head, his mouth becoming a hard line of indecision.

He wanted me now. Didn’t he?

I turned, unable to look him in the eyes and not lose myself in his embrace. I wanted to forget the heavy weight on our shoulders and free myself of our burdens. Even if it was just for one night.

“Unzip me, please?” I asked, my quivering lip hidden with my back to him.

I inhaled sharply as he shifted my hair around to my chest, his hand sliding along my shoulder, sending new waves of electricity down my spine.

He brushed his knuckles over my heated skin, following the current, as he slowly lowered the zipper to the hem of my panties.

He slid his hand across my bare shoulder and over to my collarbone, skating his rough palm to the column of my throat and securing my body to his.

“What are we doing?” My eyelids fluttered closed at the contact.

“Something we should have done a long time ago.” His hot breath feathered over the sensitive skin near my ear. “The only barrier in our way now are these clothes.”

With his hand still gently grasping my throat in a possessive and—holy hell—sexy way, I tilted my chin toward my shoulder.

His index finger brushed my chin at the movement, but his hand remained steadily in place as I opened my eyes.

His dark gaze was fixed on me, and I couldn’t resist. When I offered him my lips, he leaned in over my shoulder so our mouths could connect. He brushed his lips over mine while his free hand swept the one sleeve of my dress from my shoulder.

My dress slid to the floor, leaving me in just my panties and heels. Built-in bras, such a perfect accessory.

He pulled his lips from mine and slid the hand at my throat up and over my mouth. I closed my eyes and kissed his palm as he worked it across my cheek before moving it back to my throat again.

Why was it so hot to have his hand there? Holding me like that?

I arched my back as he held me tight to his frame, and I shimmied my ass against his hard length, the light fabric of his linen pants barely a barrier between us.

I wasn’t sure how we’d gone from discussing his brother to his hand slipping beneath my panties, but I didn’t care. In the moment, it was just us. Everything else could wait.

“Ryan,” I cried when he palmed my wet sex beneath my satin panties, his other hand remaining firm at the column of my throat.

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