Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(36)

“When’s your next break between jobs?”

“I leave tomorrow and I’m out of town for two weeks, but then I’ve got a few weeks with nothing lined up.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Can I come to Seattle to see you when you get back? I’m dying here, Kal. I thought it would be easier to be away from you, but it’s just getting more difficult.” He laughed a little. “I probably sound like a huge *, but I just want to see you. Like, I honestly just want to lay with you in my arms.”

The tingles that floated through my body at his words caused a shiver to run along my spine. I had never spent the night with a man. I was more of the ‘pounce then bounce’ variety of woman. But the idea of spending a night wrapped in Riot’s strong arms brought about more emotions than I was capable of dealing with. Of course, there was Marcus to consider. I’d never slept with a man, and he’d never woken up to a man in his house.

Regardless of the sleeping arrangements, my answer to his question was simple.

“Yes,” I said, relief coursing through me at the thought of seeing him again. “Yes, please, come to Seattle. I would very much like to see you.”

“You’d very much like to see me?” he asked, sounding a little wounded. “Babe, be prepared. I’d very much like to reenact what just happened between us, only next time we’ll use each other’s bodies. You all right with that?”

I swallowed hard, arousal lodging in my throat. “Um, yeah,” I replied, meekly. I tried to push ideas of logistics out of my head, tried not to focus on the worry that sprung up, and tried to just let myself feel the excitement of knowing Riot would be in Seattle to see me in just two weeks.





Chapter Eleven


A Little Broken


“Nancy, do you have everything you need?” I yelled from Marcus’ bedroom, trying to make sure I had everything in his bag from my mental list. Sometimes Nancy and Bob liked to take Marcus on trips with them, so I wasn’t unaccustomed to packing a bag for him, but it was hard to concentrate on the task at hand when I knew Riot’s plane was in the air, heading toward Seattle.

It had been eight weeks since we’d seen each other. Eight long weeks. All of which I’d spent trying to contain the feelings that were growing. I kept trying to lid them tightly; keep them shoved down in that part of me to which I never let myself have true access.

But I couldn’t deny the fact that my body was anxious to be near him. He’d made so many promises of what he would do to me when we finally were reunited, told me all the ways he wanted to use my body. So, naturally, it was all I could think about.

“I think we’re ready to go, dear,” Nancy called from the living room, startling me from the Riot-induced haze I found myself in often. I zipped up Marcus’ bag and carried it to the door where he and Nancy were waiting.

“All right, Marky. Your suit is in there, along with your toothbrush and toothpaste. Change of clothes, pajamas, and a towel.” I handed him his bag then pulled him into a hug. “Be good and listen to Nancy and Mr. Bob, all right?”

Marcus rolled his eyes at me, but agreed nevertheless. “I’ll be good.”

“See you in a few days, then.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Kalli. He’ll be just fine. Enjoy your weekend,” Nancy said, and I didn’t miss the wink she threw at me before she closed the door behind her.

I let out a nervous breath, grabbed my own bag, and then left, heading for the airport.



My Range Rover was parked at the arrivals turn-about and I was trying to wait patiently for Riot to come from the direction of the giant revolving doors.

I was a mess of nerves. I was taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down, but the butterflies in my stomach and the constant roller coaster I seemed to be riding kept me from achieving any kind of peace.

Then, when my eyes finally found him, everything that had been going haywire in my body halted, and I was just left smiling and bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet.

He looked like the epitome of a bad boy walking through the airport doors. He was all tight white shirt, blue jeans, combat boots only half-way laced up, and aviators. My entire body tightened at just the sight of him. But then his eyes found me, he smiled, and I melted.

He was carrying some sort of rucksack over his shoulder, the t-shirt deliciously tight over his biceps, and his smile was just for me.

I tried not to look like a giddy fool as he neared me, but I could not contain the happiness which was radiating from me.

When he made it to me, he dropped his bag on the concrete next to his feet, and then there was no distance between us, no space at all. He pulled me to him with his big hands on the sides of my face, but I definitely went willingly.

And then his mouth was on mine. There was no hello, there was no awkward I-haven’t-seen-you-in-two-months hug; it was the kiss to end all kisses. His hands went directly into my hair, then slid down my back as his tongue begged for entrance into my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him in—in every way I possibly could. It was impossible to keep him out, and what’s more, I didn’t want to.

When he pulled away he was smiling.

“Hey,” he said, out of breath, voice ragged.

“Hi.”

“I’m really f*cking glad to see you.”