He set her back from him and called for Joe to circle one more time. Then went to his knee in front of her, his hands on her knees. “This changes nothing,” he said, watching her, his hand sliding up her legs, checking her straps, then ruthlessly brushing the delicate V of her body.
Her lashes fluttered, and he watched the delicate curves of her throat move, but still her chin firmed, stubbornness brimming from her eyes. “You aren’t talking me out of this.”
He set his jaw and stood, readying their gear, until he stood behind her and pulled her flush against his body, against his hips and the ridge of his cock.
She might have gasped, he didn’t know. But her fingers wrapped around his clothing as if she were hanging on for dear life. Instantly, he softened, leaning forward, his lips near her ear. “You’re all right. You’ll be okay with me.” His hands slid down her arms. “Try and relax.”
She reached over her shoulder and touched his face. “I trust you.”
He felt those words deep inside, inhaled them like he would the air. Jumping out of this plane was huge for Sabrina. In his anger, he’d forgotten just how much so. The buzzer rang again and she tensed. “It’s only scary for a few seconds,” he promised, and because it was better that she didn’t have time to think, he shoved the door open. Wind gusted in at them, Ryan did a quick inspection outside the doorway, and then they tumbled forward.
Her body was stiff, but in a matter of thirty-five seconds, they were under canopy and he knew that the fear would fade. He lifted her arms to the side with his. But she was shaking, not calming down at all. He kept his arms over hers, touching her, something he’d never do with someone else. Tried to point out the lights, the stars, the moon, and finally she relaxed.
Ryan guided them toward a controlled landing in a field, tensed for impact, anticipating confrontation with Sabrina. He wanted this woman, wanted her in a bad way. And he knew how hard it must have been for her to find the courage to jump. There was an obvious message here—she was trying to reach out to him.
But was she willing to give as much as he was—was she willing to give everything? Tension coiled inside him. Fear—unfamiliar, intense. Fear that she was using this jump to tear down his anger, as she’d used excuses to hide from her past. This was a stunt that could have turned deadly.
The landing was smooth, easy, the moon high, the nearby property lights casting them in a visible glow. But there was nothing smooth or easy about what was boiling inside him.
Immediately, Ryan unhooked Sabrina and then cut the canopy, every muscle in his body coiling like the tension in his gut. She crawled forward and pulled off her safety glasses. Jaw set, in pursuit, Ryan followed on hands and knees, catching up with her and turning her over, framing her body with his. His emotions were high. His adrenaline pumping. “What kind of stunt was this, Sabrina?”
She held her chest. “I can’t breathe,” she heaved. “I can’t.” She grabbed his arms. “I love you, Ryan.”
Stunned, Ryan froze, the air lodged in his lungs. “What did you say?”
“Can’t. Breathe. Ryan.”
He shook off her words, focused on helping her. “You’re hyperventilating,” he said, noting her wheezing, her panic. Acting quickly, Ryan sat up and pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay.” He gently stroked her hair and rocked her. She was pale, her lips trembling. “You’re safe. I promise.” Rocking with her, he continued to whisper soothing words and slowly her body relaxed. All the while he replayed in his head what she’d said to him. I love you.
“Ryan,” she whispered, her hand on his chest, turning toward him.
That small sign she’d recovered was all he’d been waiting for. “I love you, too,” he said, cradling her face, brushing her lips with his. “More than you can imagine.”
A smile touched her face, lighting her eyes. “Even if I never jump again?”
He laughed. “Even if you never jump again.”
With their ride back to Hotzone nowhere in sight, he lay down and pulled her to his chest, the stars twinkling above. And that’s when she started talking, telling him about the way she’d been outed, and how she’d quit her job.
“So what now?”
“Right before I left New York, some time back, I was approached about writing a book, based on my columns,” she said, leaning up on an elbow to look at him. “But I felt I was through then. So I said no. But maybe now. I could focus on a topic that I’m passionate about, and the scrutiny would only come when there was a book release.”