Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(15)

“Always one step ahead of the game, beautiful,” Jackson says, approaching with his arms wide-open.

I fall into his embrace easily. “How’s the patient?”

“He blew a gasket when Rick pushed his shoulder back into place. Thought he was going to murder him.” Jackson chuckles.

“He’s a fucking nightmare,” Sawyer says, ambling toward me in a tight white T-shirt and loose-hanging gray sweats. His feet are bare. His hair wet from the shower.

“I see Xavier is rubbing off on you,” I tease, gesturing at his casual style.

“Why does everyone assume I don’t own sweatpants?”

“Maybe because you sleep in your dress suit?” Jackson jokes.

“Or because it’s hard to imagine that stick up your ass fitting in a pair of sweats?” Xavier quips, yanking me out of Jackson’s arms. “Stop hogging the treasure.” Xavier bundles me into his arms, and I close my eyes, allowing his warmth and his familiar smell to comfort me.

“Fuck off!”

My head jerks at the sound of his voice, and I pull away from Xavier without a second thought.

“Kai. You shouldn’t be out of bed. You—”

“Screw off, Rick!” Kai roars. “I want to see my fucking wife!”

Kai appears in the doorway of the games room halfway down the hallway, and I take off running toward him. My heart is beating ninety miles an hour, and butterflies scatter in my chest as my stomach flips over. Kai clings to the side of the door, half-doubled over, and it’s obvious Rick is right—he should not be out of bed. Cuts and bruises cover his face, but it doesn’t detract from his gorgeous face. He is still every bit as beautiful to me.

His warm brown eyes are shining with a whole host of emotions, and I want to drown in their chocolatey depths. His dark hair falls over one side of his head, and my fingers twitch with the craving to feel the silky, smooth strands between my hands. One of my favorite things to do is put Kai in my lap and run my fingers through his hair and over the shorn sides of his scalp. He loves it too, and many of our hot fucking sessions have started with me worshiping his hair.

The stubble on his chin and cheeks is thicker than usual, but I guess shaving is low on his list of priorities right now. His lips are a little cut up but still plump and inviting, and I can’t control my craving any longer.

It’s been six days since my lips last tasted his. Six long days since I’ve felt his strong arms protecting me. Six days since I’ve felt him moving inside me. Yet it feels like six years, because even an hour apart is too long.

I want to throw myself at him, but I invoke restraint, because he’s struggling to stand upright alone. I slow my run to a walk as I reach him, and tears well in my eyes. Summoning strength from somewhere, he straightens up and opens his arms. “Come here, firecracker.”

A sob is birthed from my soul as I circle my arms around his neck and weld my body to his. His arms around me are like a comfort blanket. His scent is like the familiar scent of home. The way he affects me is something I thought only existed between the pages of a romance novel. All it takes is one look, one small touch, one fleeting eye lock, and I’m rendered to mush. My heart races and my stomach floods with butterflies just knowing he’s in a room. And when I’m this close, all I want to do is suction myself to his side and never leave him.

It’s more than just a temporary urge or a burst of liquid lust. It’s an intense physical reaction that is only soothed when I’m locked in his embrace. When I’m touching some part of him, everything feels right with the world, and I know we can conquer mountains. All the pain and uncertainty and fear feasting on my insides disappears when I’m trapped in a bubble with my man.

I thought true soul-deep love was a myth.

But I’m happy to prove myself wrong, because what we share goes deeper than flesh. It’s transcendental, and there will never be another man for me.

Kai is it.

For all time.

His mouth is on mine in a flash, and it doesn’t seem to matter that he’s hurt, because his lips and his tongue devour me with an intensity and a need that mirrors my own. He flattens his back against the side of the door, holding me flush against his rock-hard body as we ravish one another. And I can’t stop kissing him. I need his kisses like I need oxygen. I suck in his scent and his taste, and I plunder his lips and his mouth, not knowing when we will get to do this again.

When we eventually pull our lips apart, it’s only because we’re both struggling to breathe. He places his forehead on mine, holding me firmly at the waist. “Baby. I’ve missed you so much.”

I tighten my arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you too. I was so worried.” I dust his face with feather-soft kisses, touching every place where my father hurt him. “I was so scared he was going to kill you.” Tears pool in my eyes and I’m dangerously close to losing control of my emotions. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.”

“Shush, sweetheart.” He rubs his thumb along my swollen lower lip. “It’s not your fault. We were too careless. We should’ve had a protection detail with us. We won’t make that same mistake again.”

“That’s who those guys were out front?” I ask, remembering the four guys dressed all in black, blending into the shadows.

He nods, tucking me in under his arm, wincing at the motion. I try to shuck out from under his arm, but he holds me tighter. “Don’t. I don’t care that it hurts. I need you close.”