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I ached for him in a way that was only possible when someone’s joy mattered more to you than anything else. When you’d give up yours to see them smile. When you’d sacrifice to make them happy.

When you were so far gone the only thing that mattered was them.

My gramma had told me I’d just know.

That it’d be magic.

And that was what this felt like.

Magic. Magic composed of so many threads. Layers of wounds and grief and tragedy. All of it bound by a seed of hope that had been planted somewhere along the way.

It bloomed.

Bloomed so big and bright that this man was the only thing I could see.

It felt too powerful to be one-sided. Too vast to be warped.

Lives pieced together precariously. Fragilely. A tender, loving, imperfect balance.

He carried me down the hall, only pausing for a moment to look in at Frankie, who was fast asleep. The man smiled up at me when he partially drew her door back shut, his expression so profound as he swept his hand back into my hair, his words a grumbled rasp. A root that had blossomed from that hopeful seed. “Want to do this every night, Rynna. Want to tuck my baby girl in bed then take my other girl to mine.”

He walked us the rest of the way into his room. He kicked the door shut and tossed me onto his bed. I bounced on the mattress, a wave of need capturing me. Chasing away the fears and the questions that had plagued us since we’d met.

Nothing left to stand in our way.

He reached back and clicked the lock before reaching down and peeling his shirt over his head, revealing the overwhelming strength of his chest and the ripple of his abs glowing in the wispy tendrils of moonlight that flooded his room.

I heaved out a breath.

“Every night, Rynna. I want to take you. Fuck you. Love you. Keep you.”

My entire body shook, the impact of his words tearing through me like an earthquake.

I pushed up onto my palms, squirming on his bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He flicked the button of his jeans and shoved out of them.

Baring all.

Oh God.

He was magnificent, his cock jutting free, pointing to the sky. Needy for me.

Me.

“Gonna make you a moaning, sweaty mess, Rynna Dayne, then I’m going to do it all over again.”

“I’m yours.”

The air crackled.

Alive.

Fire and heat and flames.

I writhed as I stared up at him.

Muscle and strength and that amazing heart underneath.

He inched forward, making me insane when he reached over from the side of the bed and dragged my shorts and the bathing suit bottom off. He dropped them to the floor, ran his fingers between my thighs. “So fucking sweet.”

“Rex, I need you.”

“You have me, baby. Anytime. Anywhere. Always.”

He climbed onto his knees on the bed, slowly dragging up my tank and setting it free, quick to do the same with my bikini top.

He tossed it over his shoulder, a wicked gleam lighting in his eye. He leaned closer, framing me in with his big body, mouth blowing across my breasts.

Instantly, my nipples budded into tight, pebbled peaks.

My hips jerked. “Rex. Please.”

I needed him more than I’d ever needed him before. I felt closer to him than I ever had. All his exteriors ripped away, shields down. It was just him and me.

I set my palms flat against the hard, defined ridges of his abdomen, and he rubbed his cock against my center.

A slow, sensual tease.

A shiver slipped down my spine. It dove straight into the pool of desire that grew to a boil in my belly.

My hands slid up his smooth skin.

Greedy as they explored. Savoring every inch. “You’re so beautiful, Rex Gunner. Inside and out. Thank you for letting me see it. For trusting me with it. With who you are.”

I let my fingers trace across the tattoo on his arm that so clearly wept.

Finally understanding what it meant. The kind of loss that would go on forever.

He cupped my face in the palm of his hand, something so serious blanketing his expression. “Who I am is yours, Rynna. I’m going to fix the bullshit in my life I should have fixed a long time ago.”

My mouth dropped open to ask him what that meant, but he took it as an opportunity to delve his tongue between my lips in a kiss that seared my soul.

All thoughts evaporated.

“Rynna.” My name was a plea. A prayer. I don’t think either of us could tell the difference anymore.

He wedged deeper between my thighs. His cock so big, trapped between us, begging for release.

Need throbbed, and he suddenly grasped me by the knees, spreading me wide as he edged back onto his. He dove in, licking through my folds.

I moaned, writhed, fisted my hands in his hair. “Rex.”

His only answer was to devour me. Fucking me with his tongue. Long laps and sweet, dizzying sucks.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance