Roughing It with Ryan. Jill Shalvis

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      “Yeah. I could really use a gallon about now.”

      He let out a bark of laughter. “An entire gallon, huh? That’s good, that’s real good. Make it chocolate and I’ll join you. Deal?”

      She lifted her head and blinked into the dark until she could almost see his expression. A man who’d eat chocolate ice cream out of the gallon with her? He had to be saying that just to fool her, no man was that astute. “You like chocolate ice cream out of the container?”

      His hands on her had been nothing but light. Comforting. But now, while their gazes were locked, his hands seemed more than just protective, they seemed…hungry. “A beautiful woman asks me to share a delicious dessert with her?” He smiled a smile that made her hormones stand up and beg. “I’d eat bugs on a stick.”

      Her last fiancé would have scrunched up his face and “how unsanitary.” Her first fiancé would have known exactly how many calories and fat grams that would have equaled. Not this man, her hero. He’d do anything to make her feel safe.

      A flash of lightning fully illuminated Ryan’s face an instant before a crack of thunder hit. At the sound her body jerked. Ryan slid his hands up her arms to cup her face. “Shh,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip. “We’re getting out of here. Right now, okay?”

      She stared at the tree stuffed into what had been her new bedroom. The tree that blocked her door. Knowing she was three stories up, and that he hadn’t flown to get here, she swallowed hard and tried not to panic. “We’re going to go the way you came in, I suppose.”

      “Yep.” He lifted some branches, illuminating with his flashlight the way he’d come in. “If we go through here about eight feet, we’ll come to the window.”

      Or what used to be her window.

      Up on his knees now, he unbuttoned his long-sleeved chambray shirt and stripped it off, leaving him in a dark colored T-shirt. “I’m sorry it’s wet, but it’s better than nothing.”

      While she shoved her arms in the sleeves—grateful the hem came down to her thighs and more grateful for the body heat still in it—he said, “I’m going first so I can sweep away glass shards as we go. Stay close.” Even though it was dark she could still see his intense gaze and the worry in it as he looked at her.

      That concern cloaked her in strength, and fueled her own. She could do this. And yet she wished he’d touch her again, for comfort, for… She could still feel his fingers on her jaw. Could imagine them sinking into her hair—

      “Suzanne?”

      “Ready,” she said quickly before he thought she was having a meltdown. If she was in danger of a meltdown, it was one of the senses, not of fear.

      But how could she explain to herself the panic she suddenly felt wasn’t due to the storm at all, but in stead was due to the fact that she could feel her heart thumping painfully at the touch of this incredibly appealing stranger? She didn’t want this adrenaline rush that signified awareness of him as a man. She didn’t!

      He tugged her hand until she was on her knees facing him, and at the reassuring look in his eyes, she swallowed hard. She knew he would do whatever he had to in order to keep her safe. It made her knees weak. It made her yearn, when she’d promised her self no more yearning.

      “We’ll be out of here before you know it.” Another harsh crack of thunder reverberated through their small space, and Suzanne just about plowed him over in her haste to follow him.

      “That’s it,” he murmured. “Stay close.”

      Stay close? She’d be on top of him if she could. On her hands and knees, she crawled after him, under the fallen tree, squinting against the howling wind, thinking her life was literally in the hands of this man in front of her.

      Which really explained her odd reaction to him, she decided. Fear and adrenaline were powerful emotions. No doubt, in the light of day things would be back to normal. She’d go to work, balance her checking account, figure out if she had any money this week to start buying furniture—

      Boom.

      The thunder startled the breath right out of her, but Ryan was right there, helping her out from under the branches, slipping an arm around her waist. “Hey, just Mother Nature moaning and bitching. We’re okay.”

      They were okay. Good. Okay was good. She lifted her head and found his mouth only an inch from hers.

      He had a wide, firm mouth, and she suddenly, inanely wondered…did it know how to pleasure a woman?

      His eyes were dark, gazed locked on to hers. Oh yeah, she thought shakily. He knew.

      Oh, God, where were these inappropriate thoughts coming from? They were coming from her own desire, a desire she didn’t understand. As she realized it, in the dim glow of the night, she saw the dangerous flare of a mirroring desire in his eyes.

      And for a long heartbeat, neither of them moved.

      “You ready?” he finally asked.

      “Yeah. I’m…ready.”

      His gaze shifted to her mouth, he slowly nodded. “We’re just going to climb through the opening and get onto the ladder.”

      Right. Climb through the opening and onto the ladder. “Got it.”

      The next flash of lightning, immediately followed by a bone-rattling boom of thunder came so suddenly after the stillness, they both jerked.

      “Oh, God,” she whispered a little tearfully, her heart in her throat. “I really could use that ice cream.”

      “I wish I had some.” The thunder continued to echo around them. “But as far as distraction goes,” he murmured. “I do have this.” Lifting her against him, he surrounded her with his heat, his strength, before closing his mouth over hers.

      Her hands fisted in his hair, looking for balance in a world where there was suddenly none to be had. His kiss was glorious, made more so by the dark of the night, by the wet of the storm, by the lingering fear and adrenaline.

      But then he slowly pulled back. Suzanne just barely managed not to cry out her protest. Through the darkness she could hear his ragged breathing—a ragged breathing that matched her own—as he stared at her and it was all she could do not to yank him back to her. Just as that thought formed in her mind, he lowered his head again, brushing his mouth over hers, almost in a question. She answered by slanting her mouth to better fit his, and then with a grateful, mutual groan, they sank into another wet, hot, long kiss.

      With all that had happened to her already that night, a mere kiss shouldn’t have been able to send more sensation rocketing through her, but that’s exactly what it did. And then he was looking down at her, his breath coming hard and fast, a sort of stunned wonder on his face that she knew matched her own.

      While she stood there, dizzy and weak-kneed and hot-blooded all at the same time, he ran a finger over her jaw, then turned back to the chore of getting them out.

      SUZANNE FIGURED going down the ladder in Ryan’s flapping shirt and little else, being greeted by his crew, a freaked out Taylor and the fire truck

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