Only When It's Us (Bergman Brothers #1)(88)

“I want Ryder who read to my dying mother,” she whispers. “I want Ryder who brought me whiskey and peanut butter cups and was the first man to ever slow down and hold me and help me feel safe enough to fall apart. I want the man who carried me down a mountain today. I want his quiet strength and his big heart. I want you.”

I stand. Willa does too. And everything changes.

Air rushes out of me. She’s so beautiful, there aren’t words. There aren’t words to describe what moonlight looks like on the lines of her muscles in her shoulders, her stomach, her legs. No words to capture the soft dip and swell of her hips, the curve of her breasts and her taut nipples which tighten in the cold.

Her fingers dance by her side as she waits. I know I’m breathing because I’m still alive, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m stunned.

“Ryder,” she says quietly.

My eyes meet hers, and my heart burns with knowledge. I love her. I’ve known I loved her, but the truth bursts inside my chest, surges up my throat, and beats a violent tattoo inside my mind as I stare into her eyes.

“Come here,” she whispers.

I step closer. Willa does too. She leans onto the ledge inside the tub, placing her at eye level. I hold her gaze as her hands settle on the first button of my shirt that’s still done, working them open, one by one.

Halfway done with my buttons she pauses. She presses a kiss to my forehead and wobbles. My hands go to her hips, holding her steady as she resumes unbuttoning my shirt. Her skin is smooth and taut, hot from the water. When she presses my shirt off my shoulders, I shake it off and finally do what I can’t avoid doing anymore.

I drag my mouth hungrily over her breast and taste her skin. Her nipple’s hard, the most beautiful berry pink. I plump it in my hand and roll my tongue across its surface.

Her hands are in my hair, and air rushes out of her.

“Oh, God,” she moans.

Willa drops to her knees in the water, furiously tugging at my buckle, yanking open the button. She drags down the zipper and shoves my jeans off my hips. I tug them down the rest of the way, shucking my boxers next.

Willa’s eyes are wide as she stares at me. It’s the hardest I’ve ever been, my length so tight and thick, it smacks into my belly button as it springs free.

A slow smile brightens her face. “Well?” she says. “What are you waiting for?”

Hot tubs are relaxing, but they’re not great for this. I want to see her well. I want to take my time. I need my wits about me, and Willa’s naked body all over mine in a Jacuzzi spells disaster for that. Not to mention, hot tubs are also terribly unhygienic for anything sex-related, not that I’m telling Willa that. She’ll give me shit for my neurotic cleanliness.

My hands slide down her shoulders to her waist, as I hold her gaze. She yelps as I haul her out of the water, wrap her around my torso and step back through the door.

Willa’s smile is infectious as she locks her arms around my neck and squeezes her thighs. I have to bite my cheek not to lose my senses because she’s centimeters from sliding along my cock. “Where are we going?” she whispers.

I shoulder open the door to the massive first-floor bathroom. A glass shower with a tiled bench and two waterfall spouts winks from the far end of the room.

Willa’s eyes follow mine. “Wow,” she says breathily.

I set her down and flip on the light switch. Turning on the water, I adjust it, then turn on the towel warmer. Willa shivers a little, and I drag her with me toward the echoing space.

She looks around, her hands running along my arms distractedly. “Why aren’t you coming in?” Her eyes follow my hands as they reach into my hair, near my ears. “They have to come off.”

I nod.

Willa hesitates, then steps closer, gripping my arm. “Do you want me to get out, so you don’t have to—”

“I’ll never be able to. They’ll fall off with…with that kind of movement.”

Willa blushes, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. “So you won’t hear—”

“I’ll hear you fine, Willa.” I kiss her wrist, never letting my eyes leave hers. “Always have.”

Carefully, I detach my auditory processors and transmitters, setting them on the counter. The world’s sounds telescope once again. Gone are those many ambient noises I’ve already begun to unconsciously take for granted. I’m left with the tug of my breath, the husky whisper of Willa’s. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.

“Come on, Willa.” Slowly I lead her into the shower, letting water tumble over us.

Her eyes snap up and hold mine. “You said it.”

I know what it means to her, to talk, to say her name when I have very little sense of how it sounds. Before the implants, I never did that, not once. I was too embarrassed, too insecure about having lost the sound of my voice. But I want Willa to know that fear and hesitation aren’t here between us anymore. I want to show her walls can come down, even after you’ve put time and energy into building them.

“Ryder.” I see my name on her lips more than I hear it. I feel its sound vibrate across my chest, and settle in my heart.

She reaches up on tiptoe and gives me a kiss I’ll always remember. It’s not a wild clash of tongues and mouths. It’s not a battle for control. It’s gentle and it’s scared. Hopeful and fragile. Her lips are so impossibly full as they slide and press against mine. Tugs and bites, quiet puffs of air that dance over my face.