Echo(42)

***



I woke to the sound of Ryland groaning and rolled over to find him clutching his ribs. He was still half-asleep and probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Then it occurred to me I’d forgotten to give him his pain pills last night. Already I was doing a horrible job of playing nurse.

I scurried from the bed and into the kitchen, shaking a couple pills into my hand and filling a glass of water.

“Brighton?” Ryland’s panicked voice came from the bedroom.

I padded back down the hall, and his face filled with relief the moment he saw me.

I sat down beside him and handed him the pills, watching to make sure he took them before he sank back against the pillow. His hair was even more mussed than the day before, and I smoothed it back into place as I looked into his troubled eyes.

“Ryland, I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me. And I didn’t know how to get through to him, so instead, I decided to take his mind off of it.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

I didn’t give him time to argue as I walked to the bathroom and gathered the supplies I needed. When I came back, I found him struggling to undress.

“Here, let me help you,” I offered.

He gave me a frustrated sigh but allowed me to undress him. I put a towel down beneath him and placed my bucket of soapy water within reach.

To my surprise, he laid back and relaxed against the pillows, allowing me to get straight to work.

“You aren’t fighting me on this.” I smoothed the cloth over the hard planes of his body, careful to avoid his bandages.

He grinned. “I can’t say that this doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Of course you’d like this,” I teased, gliding the cloth up and down his arm.

“I like any time you touch me of your own free will,” he confessed.

Though he hadn’t intended to, his words returned the darkness of our situation to the room. The ever-present reminder of how all of this had started. The painful chasm that still divided us.

I ignored it and my mixed up feelings as I ran the cloth up and down his legs. His cock started to jerk against his belly, swollen and eager to be touched.

He shuddered as I ran the cloth over that part of him, cleaning him quickly and without finesse. It was difficult to pull away, but I managed, placing the cloth back into the bucket. I moved to stand, but Ryland grasped my arm.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “I need you, baby girl.”

“Ryland, we can’t,” I protested. “You need to rest.”

“I need to be inside of you,” he insisted. “God, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much. I need to feel you again. Please.”

I knew I shouldn’t. He needed to relax and let himself heal. But in my mind, I was as desperate as him for that connection. The one place we’d never had any problems. The one way we could communicate our feelings without words.

So, throwing caution to the wind, I positioned myself between his legs and kneeled down to suck him into my mouth.

He hissed the moment my lips enveloped him and tried to buck his hips up to greet me.

“We do this my way,” I warned him. “Or not at all. I’m in control here, Ryland, not you.”

His eyes flared, but he didn’t say a word of protest as he watched me take him back into my mouth. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he let me have control.

He wound his fingers through my hair and groaned, his cock swelling even more as I sucked him deeper.

“Please, Brighton,” he begged. “I need to be inside of you.”

I pulled away and tugged off my shorts and panties, discarding them on the floor before I straddled his hips again. His hands pushed down the material of my cami, seeking out my breasts.

I was soaking wet for him already, and I glided him inside of me without resistance. He made another strangled noise in his throat as his hands fell to my hips.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as I began to move. “You can’t ever take this away from me again.”

He devoured me with his eyes, his frustration warring with awe as I took charge. I rolled my hips around in circles and bobbed up and down on his shaft, giving him what he so desperately needed.

“Play with yourself,” he rasped. “I want to watch you.”

I did as he requested, not feeling the slightest bit shy. We were far past that at this point. Whatever this man asked of me, I would do. It was a dangerous power he held.

I reached up and cupped one of my breasts while the other hand toyed with my clit. All of my frustration and anger and pain from the last few days combined to a boiling point of pressure inside of me. When I finally blew, the waves of pleasure seemed to roll on forever. It was the most cathartic release I’d ever had.

Ryland’s breath was ragged and his eyes wild as I increased my pace fractionally to drive him over the edge.

“So hot,” he grunted. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl. Oh, God.”

His release barreled into me, bathing me with warmth as his breath stuttered in his chest. He started to cough, and I gave him a panicked look, but he shook his head as I climbed off of him.

“Was it worth it?” I scolded.

He smiled and nestled me against his arm, kissing me softly on the forehead.

 “It always is with you.”





Chapter Thirty

It took Ryland all of one week before he declared he was ready to go back to work. Any sane person would have tried to reason with him, but I knew there was no reasoning with him when he was this way.

It was a side of him I hadn’t ever seen before. He was on edge and going stir-crazy locked up in his apartment. He’d been trying to conduct business from his laptop and cell phone all week, and all of his employees were bearing the brunt of his frustration.

I’d made myself scarce and let him do what he needed to do while I locked myself away in the sewing room. I’d thrown myself into random projects here and there before I felt restless myself. But then I spotted some rolls of tulle, and the wheels in my brain started to spin.

I flipped through patterns and designs as I sought out inspiration. And then it hit me. Like a mack truck.

I don’t know what inspired me to think this was a good idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. I started with one skirt, then I kind of went crazy. Now I had about ten variations, along with a handful of leotards. They were unique with fun patterns and designs, and I had no idea what I would do with them. But for the first time in a long time, I was proud of something I had accomplished.

Until Ryland opened the door and a surge of guilt flooded through me. I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t know how he would handle it. So I rushed up to him and helped him adjust his tie while he tried to look around the room.

“What are you working on in here?” he eyed me suspiciously.

“It’s not finished yet.” I tugged his hand and pulled him from the room. “And besides, it’s a mess in there, you’d hate it.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Sure it doesn’t.”

“I mean it.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “I love your little messes.”

The words slipped from his lips unexpectedly, and I could tell they had surprised him too. Since that day in the hospital, he hadn’t outright told me he loved me again. It was an honest admission, and one that made him vulnerable. Something Ryland never liked to be.

“I have to get going,” he said quickly, wiping the moment from existence.

I frowned and started fidgeting, feeling weird about this whole situation. Now that he was better, I didn’t know what I should do.

“I need to find a job,” I blurted.

Ryland leaned down and kissed my cheek as though he’d expected such an outburst. Then he pulled a shiny black card from his wallet. Knowing better than to try to hand it to me right away, he set it on the counter and gave me a moment to come to terms with it.

“I don’t want you to worry about work,” he said. “I want you to focus on your sewing for now.”

“Ryland…”

“And spending time with Nicole,” he added. “Matt has to go back to work today as well, so he’ll be dropping her off here soon.”

I gave him a suspicious glare, wondering if this was a ruse to keep me busy so I didn’t have time to wonder what he was up to. Of course I wanted to look after Nicole, but I’d talked to her every day on the phone, and she sounded much better.

Ryland strode to the door and my opportunity was slipping away. It had to be said. There was no way that it couldn’t be said.

“What are you going to do about Brayden?”

He spun around, and his eyes had turned to ice again.

“I don’t want you to worry about these things, Brighton.”

A dry laugh burst from my throat as I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? They’re my family, Ryland. Of course I have to worry about these things.”

“You’re not like them,” he argued.

“Yes, I am.” I frowned. “I’m from the same stock, Ryland. I’m no better, no different. Their blood runs through my veins, and that’s not something that will ever change.”

My words hardened his jaw, and he looked away. I wasn’t going to lie, it stung.