There was something happening between them, something neither controlled any more than they did their burn to get closer. One last wild rush overcame them, a frenzied thrusting and pumping, that took Sabrina to the edge of shattering where she clung for dear life, wanting this to last, wanting…wanting. Until she shattered, burying her head in his neck, and gasping a moment before the spasms clamped down on his shaft, her body taking what it had wanted from the moment she first met him. He tumbled right after her, shuddered with a hard lift of his hips as he cupped her backside and buried himself far and deep.
***
SABRINA LAY ON TOP of Ryan, a limp noodle of satisfaction, when suddenly it hit her. “The bank!” she yelped, scrambling to the edge of the bed. “I have to get to the bank.” She eyed the clock. “Thirty minutes. I’m never going to make it! I have no ID, no money, no way to pay for my car keys.” She scrambled for her bag and clothes.
“I thought you went earlier,” Ryan said, already standing and putting on his pants.
“No, I—” Something scraped her back, and she reached over her shoulder. “Ouch! What is that.”
Ryan snatched whatever it was off her back and held it up. The condoms. “I think I’m the one who is supposed to wear them, not you.”
The condoms they hadn’t used were not her biggest problem right now. It was money. “Hurry,” she ordered. “Get dressed.”
His gaze caught on the jeans she pulled from her bag. “Where did that come from? Wait. Your shampoo. Your hair smelled like honeysuckle. You went to your apartment. Sabrina, damn it, what were you thinking?”
“That I had to have my passport to prove to the bank I’m me.” Damn. Her shirt must be in the bathroom. She turned toward it.
Ryan shackled her arm, halting her movement. “Are you nuts? What if someone was watching you at the club? What if they had targeted you?”
“The property manager came with me,” she said. “Or rather she waited in the hall ready to call for help.”
“Oh, that was safe,” he chided shortly. “Damn it. You should have called me.”
“Don’t curse at me, Ryan Walker.”
“Don’t put yourself in danger, and I won’t.”
“You aren’t my protector.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I should be.”
She gaped. “What the heck does that mean?”
“It means I care about you. And if you stand there naked much longer, yelling at me, I’m going to throw you on the bed and show you how much.”
Sabrina snatched the towel from the floor and wrapped it around herself. Though the idea that he couldn’t resist her wore away at her frustration.
Ryan sat down on the edge of the bed. “Look. Sabrina. I’m sorry. Whatever this is that’s going on between us, it makes me protective. I’ve seen some nasty things. Imagining the motives behind stealing your purse isn’t hard for me.”
Sabrina blinked at both the content of his confession and the delivery, glimpsing the tiniest bit of vulnerability and uncertainty behind his words. As if he wasn’t sure how she would respond. He touched her, this big, confident, sexy man with a softer side that even an argument couldn’t hide.
Closing the distance between them, she stopped in front of him, and gently touched his cheek. “No one has ever protected me before. Not me. Just my reputation. I like it.”
Surprise flickered in his face. “You do?”
She nodded. “Yes. Very much.” A slow smile slid to her lips. “But you think you can tame just a little bit of the tough-guy, demanding thing?”
He drew her hand to his mouth. “Depends. Can I still be tough-guy and demanding in bed?”
Instant sexual energy charged the room. “Sometimes,” she negotiated.
“Now?”
She glanced at the clock. No way was she making it to the bank. And she wasn’t sure she’d care if she could. “Now,” she agreed and dropped her towel in the name of seduction for the second time in one day.
16
DESPITE A WHIRLWIND of errands, and more than their share of challenges along the way, Ryan had enjoyed the hell out of spending the rest of Saturday with Sabrina. It was near eight that night when they finally stepped into the elevator of her building, several bags in hand, including a lock kit, a gourmet heat-and-eat pizza—since they hadn’t had time to eat—and her new cell phone in need of charging.
“I still can’t believe my car was impounded,” Sabrina murmured, shaking her head. Her car had been one of their more complicated challenges. “The manager at the bar promised us that wouldn’t happen when my purse was stolen. I even called this morning, and they said it was there.” Animated, she turned to him. “And after you paid for my key. I feel horrible about that.”
“You still need the key,” he reminded her. “And I can drive you out to the lot to get your car Monday morning when the tow company reopens,” he offered.