“I know, but maybe it’s like your father said. Maybe fate is the master puppeteer, and one way or another, your father was going to be here to provide support to you because I was going to be abducted in order to help prevent Paul’s death and the spread of terrorism on this and your planet.” He was looking so serious, I just couldn’t help myself. “Ohhh, see? The butterfly effect, but with fate. We’re all interconnected. We could be out on a hike, and you could, like, sneeze, and that could scare a bunch of birds out of the brush, right? Then that causes a breeze that lends itself to a windstorm, which would then be strong enough to travel thousands of miles and maybe wipe out a whole village, see? But it would be like fate gave you that cold because it was time for that village to rebuild itself and join the new age of technology.”
Ryder wasn’t amused.
“Yeah, well, maybe you could have just as easily been killed.” He gave me a good scowl, not ready to concede any point, probably because I still had bruises on my face.
“Even if it doesn’t all make sense to you, it’s making sense to me. I can feel it. We’re all...interconnected.”
“Dammit, Taylor.” He sat up against the headrest with a scowl. “I just care about you. Stop putting yourself in life-threatening situations.”
I sat up against the headboard to face him. “I’m just saying that maybe when it’s our time, it’s our time. Control is an illusion.”
“Whatever. Just be more careful. At least say it. Put my goddamn mind to rest.”
“I will, I will. I will be more careful. Does that help?”
“Yes.”
Unable to help myself, I ran fingers through his midnight-black hair. Brushing it off his forehead, I said, “Don’t be mad.”
“But you...”
I settled a finger against his firm lips, effectively stopping his words. “There are so many more interesting things we could do. Don’t you think?”
“You aren’t going to sleep, are you?” His grin was slow in developing.
“I don’t think so.” I gave him a gamine smile and let the spaghetti strap of my camisole slip off my shoulder, exposing part of the curve of my breast. “You a boob man?”
“I can’t decide with you.” His large hand swept over my breast, thumbing my nipple, and I sighed into the familiar warmth that heated me from the inside. Then he slid down to cup my ass. “I like all of you.”
“Who says you need to decide?”
His cock was stirring against my belly, and my fingers were gentle when they grasped his hot, silky length beneath the waistband of his boxers. His groan of pleasure was encouraging and arousing, and our lips met with gentle passion, sweetly, with teasing nibbles. Heat built on heat as we moved together, removed clothing, kissing skin with passionate reverence as it became exposed. We exchanged soft gasps and throaty moans, gentle caresses and soft cries of pleasure. When he did ease into me, our eyes held, and I was overcome with the beauty of our completeness. His elbow was braced by my head, and he was looking down at me, his eyes burning with love and need while he slowly moved in long, steady strokes against me. I was caught by his green eyes and the veins of gold running through them, just the way I had been the first day I saw him in the courtyard of my apartment complex. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t hide. It was raw and intimate, and with our minds open, we were totally exposed.