felicity
I can’t believehe talked me into doing this.
Trickedme into doing this, actually.
But I’m so happy to be here with him, standing by his side, I hardly care that there are twenty-thousand people out there watching us, listening as our voices weave in and out in perfect harmony. We’ve both sung this song a thousand times, but never together before this moment. As much as I’d like to, I can’t deny there’s something utterly captivating about the sound we make together, when our melodies mesh into one. Two different bolts of fabric being slowly threaded together by a single needle. Seamless.
It’s exactly as it was when we first sang together at the nursing home, but the stakes are so much higher now. Not just in terms of the massive audience; the ache of desire and desperation in Ryder’s eyes has never been more potent.
“Wish that I could tell you that you’re hated
All those tears I cried, ‘cause you never tried
And still, for years, I waited…”
I hardly remember the actual performance. I’m so lost in his gaze as we sing into the same microphone, so focused on the brush of his elbow against mine as he stands by my side, the rasp in his voice ringing in my ears, it’s a wonder I’m able to recall the lyrics. I almost forget to wave to the crowd as we walk off stage. My pulse is a sledgehammer roaring between my ears. I wantmore— of this feeling, of his touch, of his voice, of his body. It feels like an eternity since that night in my room above The Nightingale.
I’ve been waiting —wanting— for far too long.
No more.
We take two steps into the wings, out of the crowd’s view. Before I can get out a single word, I find my body pinned against a stack of storage cases as Ryder closes in. His eyes are full of dark promise, his brows pull together with resolve.
Yes.Yes. Yes.
His lips claim mine less than a second later, harder than I remember and hotter than an inferno. I recognize the urgency in his kiss, a match for my own; I’m equally frantic for him. My hands tremble as they slide into his hair, pulling him as close as I can manage. It’s not nearly close enough. I want him under my clothes, under my skin. I’m so lost in his drugging touch, I barely care who might be watching as his hands roam down my sides, grazing every inch of me as though he’s been starved for my touch.
He’s so gorgeous it hurts to look at him too closely. His bruises are gone. His lip is healed — I suck it into my mouth and he groans low in his throat.
“Felicity.” There’s desperation in his voice. Sheer need, unadulterated and exposed. “I need you.”
I can feel the evidence of that need, steely and throbbing against my thigh.
“I need to touch you.” He kisses his way up my neck. “I need to make sure you’re really here with me.” His teeth scrape my earlobe as he tugs gently on it. “I need you in my bed. Under my sheets.” His voice rumbles into my ear and I gasp. “I need to be inside you while you come apart at the seams.”
God, this man is going to kill me.
I gaze into his eyes, practically panting with desire. “What are we still doing here?”
There’s sin in his grin as he leads me through the side exit. We don’t bother to say goodbye to Lincoln, Aiden, or Carly as we run down the steps and cut around the perimeter of the crowd, our hands laced so tight it makes my bones ache. The loft is close — blessedly close. We tear up the stairwell, a blur of limbs, our mouths fused together as he fumbles with the locked door. I laugh as we fall inside, off balance from our haste, landing on the hardwood floor in a pile of tangled limbs with an abruptness that knocks the wind from my lungs.
Ryder kicks the door shut with a predatory growl and rolls on top of me. When I feel his weight, my bones lose all their density. I am completely at his mercy as I arch my neck to meet his lips in a deep kiss. Defenseless in the best kind of way.
“Not here,” he mutters, hauling me to my feet. We manage to find his bedroom, shedding our clothes as fast as physically possible. I don’t bother looking around at the decor as he tosses me onto the bed. I only have eyes for him as he stalks closer — a predator circling the prey it’s about to enjoy for dinner. He makes my breath catch, even in the dark.
“Ryder,” I breathe, watching him watch me.
“Felicity,” he whispers, spreading my knees apart.
“I need you. I need you so much, it hurts.”
At my admission, his eyes flare with so much heat I think they’ll turn the sheets to cinders as he thrusts inside me, deeper and harder than ever before. This time, there’s no careful concern, no pause to allow me to acclimate. He’s too passionate to be patient. There’s something savage in his expression as he pounds into me, his fingertips digging into my hipbones. Something dark and dangerous that thrills me to my core.
As stars explode behind my eyes, I think of the song he sang for me tonight… the same one I found written on the last page of my journal just this morning when I packed up my life to leave this city behind.
Wasn’t till I left that it hit me…
I was in love…