“I have never wanted to fuck you so much,” he said in a growl.

“Take me, wreck me. You can’t ruin me. You can control me all you want. You won’t break me. I’ll still be here,” she said, knowing it was what he needed, and what she wanted, too.

* * *

He slid into her without mercy.

She moaned the second his cock made contact with her heat.

Then he took over for her hands. He gripped the pool cue and clasped his fingers through hers, pinning her with the wood and his weight.

With her restrained like that, flat on her back on his pool table, he fucked her harder and rougher than he ever had before. He didn’t hold back as he held her captive. He slammed into her hot pussy over and over, his beautiful woman writhing and moaning, panting and screaming, and completely and utterly giving herself to him.

Arching up. Meeting him. Inviting him deeper.

His body jolted with each thrust, his heart pumping hard and wild, and this—this pleasure, this harsh fucking wasn’t just control for him. It was a relinquishment, too. He might be restraining her, but in doing so he’d revealed his hand. He’d shown her his cards. They were all for her, every single one turned up Sophie.

“It’s you,” he groaned, and she locked eyes with him, her gaze holding him tight, sending him to another plane of pleasure—one ruled by more than the physical. By the intensity of how he felt for her. By all the love that he saw in her eyes. “It’s all you. I fucking love you so much,” he said as he took her.

“It’s the same for me, Ryan.” Her breathing turned ragged, and her words drove him on. The tension in him rose higher in a fury of passion and love, in a storm of mind-blowing pleasure that spiked in him. Because of how he felt for her, heart, soul, mind and body. He didn’t look away. He simply couldn’t. His eyes were fixed on her the whole time as he took her deeper. Her moans and groans and cries were the sexiest song he’d ever heard, the scent of her skin and the smell of her lust were intoxicating, and the hot, tight grip of her body sent him into a red-hot, fevered frenzy.

He’d never been more turned on, he’d never been harder, and he’d never wanted to come so intensely.

But there was so much more at play than pure desire.

He’d never loved someone like this. He needed more closeness. More connection. No barriers. Nothing but skin and hands and limbs tangled together.

He let go of the stick, then uncurled her fingers from the cue and yanked it away, letting the wood clatter loudly to the floor. “Just you and me,” he said. “Just you and me.”

Instantly, she raised up and flung her arms around him, clutching his back, digging her nails in, and God, fuck, hell, it was unearthly; it was heaven on earth. His arms snaked around her, and he gripped her, pulling her, yanking her, bringing her as close as she could be. On the edge of the pool table their bodies coiled together like flames, consuming each other with wildfire.

He breathed her name, over and over, like a fucking mantra—the woman he adored.

She cried out, shuddering beneath him as she hit the edge, her glorious sounds the key in the ignition that set him off.

The tension inside of him snapped, and he came hard.

They collapsed in a landslide of pants and moans, of groans and grunts.

And also, something else.

Something that felt like peace in her arms, as he gave himself up to whatever this was with Sophie, because it felt as if it had the potential to be the rest of his life.

“Sophie,” he murmured in her ear, as she sighed happily and ran her fingers down his sweat-streaked back. “The way I feel for you is beyond control. And I don’t want that to change.”

Everything else was shifting. Everything else was cracking. She was his one constant.

* * *

She didn’t wake up as he went for a run with his dog. Nor as he showered. And not as he brewed a pot of coffee. She didn’t wake up, either, when Johnny Cash barked happily as Ryan let him take a quick post-run dip in the pool. And she barely rustled as he leaned over her, brushing a soft curl from her sweet, sleepy face to kiss her goodbye.

She murmured something then shifted and yawned.

“Hey, beautiful. I need to go,” he said, and kissed her cheek.

She stretched her arms over her head. “I better get out of here then, since you’re leaving.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Stay. Sleep. You like your morning sleep.”

She smiled and her eyes floated closed again. “I do like my sleep. I need to finish packing for Germany though.”

“Is that today?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, snuggling under the covers.

He patted the bed, and his dog jumped up. “Johnny Cash, you keep Sophie company ’til she wakes up and is ready to leave. Tell her to let you out in the yard once before she heads home.”

The dog panted his agreement, and Sophie laughed.

“Call me when you’re ready to go. I’ll send a car or driver or Uber or chariot or horse.”

“A horse please. A white one with a braided mane,” she said then fell back asleep.

He left a note by the door with his extra key, got behind the wheel of his truck, and prepared for a five-hour drive that he hoped to God would get him the answers that had eluded him for eighteen years.

Chapter Thirty-Six

He was too cute to resist.

The way he wagged his tail, and dazzled her with his puppy-dog eyes melted Sophie.

“Fine, you win,” she cooed, kneeling to scratch Johnny Cash’s soft white chin. He lifted his snout for her, letting her rub him. When she rose, she reached for his leash from a hook by the front door.

She spun around, hunting for a key and found a note by the door. “Aha,” she said, like a treasure hunter who’d found the X marking the spot. She unfolded the sheet of white, lined paper. Inside it was a key and a short letter. It was her first real note from Ryan.

By now, Johnny Cash is probably trying to convince you to take him for a walk. He’s a bit of a junkie, I must confess. He will pretty much do anything to run those little legs. I have a hunch he might be training for an Irondog triathlon somehow.

Please don’t feel that you have to give in, even if he bats those big brown eyes. He is a well-trained boy, and he will be fine inside the house during the day. Just take the key, and lock the door behind you.

Oh, I suppose this would be a good time to let you know that you can have the key. I have nothing to hide from you, and my house is your house. If you feel like going for a swim, the fence is high enough that the neighbors won’t see you if you swim naked. If you do that, it would be great if you could send me a photo, as I think a shot of you in my favorite outfit would do wonders for me.

Also, I want to see you before you leave, but I don’t know when I’ll be back. I promise to call when I’m done, and then I’ll come see you, no matter how late it is. Because I can’t stay away from you, Sophie. I swear, I can’t.

I’ll be thinking of you. I’m always thinking of you.

Always…

Sophie grinned wildly as her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings. She tucked the note inside her clutch purse from last night. Smoothing a hand over the pink cotton of her sundress, she was grateful that she’d left this outfit behind last weekend, because it was far easier to walk a dog in this little number than in her violet evening dress. She had no change of shoes though, so she’d be walking him in her Louboutins.

She shrugged happily. So be it.

She lowered her shades over her eyes, opened the door, then locked up behind her. Johnny Cash trotted happily by her side for the next twenty minutes as she click-clacked around Ryan’s neighborhood, soaking in the wide lawns, the gorgeous houses, and the palm trees that were ever present in their desert town. Her skin heated up from the hot morning rays, and her shoulders started to bake. The dog panted heavily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. When she returned to Ryan’s block she spotted a young man walking up the steps to his house. The guy was wearing jeans and a red T-shirt. He knocked on Ryan’s door, then shifted back and forth on his feet.