Authors: Jillian Leeson
After I was discharged from hospital, I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with the stairs in my building, and my mother insisted for me to stay with her. Only four months ago, I would rather burn in hell before I would have agreed to this, but after all that’s happened, I decided to give her a second chance. And even though we still don’t see eye to eye, I can tell she is trying very hard to change her ways. It’s more than I’ve ever seen her do, and I respect her for it.
Ryder’s arm brushes against mine when he sits down next to me. “So, it’s you who came up with the idea of that app. I’m blown away. It’s a fantastic idea.”
“I’ve had the idea for a long time, but didn’t have the funds to develop it.”
“You should have told me. I would have helped you out.”
“To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about the app until I was in the hospital with nothing to do. And I was thinking about what I wanted to do with the money I inherited.”
Ryder raises his brow, and I grip the edge of the table, bracing myself for what I am about to tell him. But the therapist I’ve been seeing believes I’ll only be able to move forward if I open up to him. And this time is as good as any.
“I told you what happened to me when I was living at home. And you wanted to know who did it to me. It was my uncle from China, my mom’s brother, who raped me. He died just before I had the accident, and in his will, he left me a million dollars.”
His eyes widen and take on a hard expression. “Wow. That sick bastard. Nothing easier than shelling out a load of cash to clear your conscience.”
A fuzzy warmth floods my chest. I feel like hugging him and never letting go. Because only Ryder gets it. He
gets
me.
I say, “I didn’t want to take it at first. But I thought, this way something good will come out of it. And I think I’ve done the right thing.”
The success of the Lighthouse City app has exceeded all my expectations. Almost all the shelters I have approached have signed up, and their positive feedback has been encouraging. It is even getting interest from the media, with a mention in the
New York Post
and two interviews lined up next week.
I’ve been so busy with the app that I haven’t devoted much time studying. Due to the accident I missed the last round of exams, but thankfully I was able to defer them to later in the year. I’m hoping that the major I’ve chosen—Urban Studies and Policy—will let me use my experiences with the app as part of a project.
As for The 99, I’ve decided to cut all ties with them. Adam called me once while I was in hospital, but when I lay into him for the stunt they pulled with the occupation, he became defensive and ended the call with a lame excuse. He didn’t even bother to visit me.
Ryder leans towards me. “I think I might want to invest in your app. But I’d have to do more research. A lot more research.”
His hand curls around my neck, and he pulls me towards him. My eyes fall on his soft, sculptured lips. I hope he’s going to kiss me. I want, I
need
him to kiss me. Closing my eyes, I anticipate that electrifying moment when his lips connect with mine, but it doesn’t come. Instead, his breath feathers against my ear.
“I need to know all the details. Every. Single. One.”
His warm hand cups my cheek, and his thumb traces the curve of my bottom lip, sending a hot shiver through me. My hands find his chest to explore the ridges of his hard muscles, sliding up and settling around his broad shoulders. I push him back slightly to force his gaze into mine. My voice is breathy when I utter the words that I’ve carefully chosen.
“I have nothing to hide. I’ll give you access to everything.”
A flicker appears in his eyes, and that’s all it takes for me to grab a fistful of shirt and yank him against me. And he finally does what I need from him. He kisses me hungrily, greedily, and I kiss him back with the same fervor. All the frustrations of the past three months—pain, longing, regret—melt away in that one devouring kiss. When we finally break away from each other, we are both out of breath.
His mouth curves into a smile, and so does mine. We grin at each other for a long moment until I say, “There’s something I want to show you.”
I reach into my pocket and put a small black box on the table in front of him. Eyebrows raised, Ryder slowly takes off the lid and takes out the gadget that I’ve been dying to show him.
“A watch?” he asks.
“It’s not just a watch. It’s a smartwatch, a prototype developed by one of Damon’s friends. It doesn’t just tell the time, it can make and receive calls, and access the internet. I was thinking of adapting it for the users of Lighthouse City so they can easily get access to the app. It would have to be solar-powered and designed in such a way that it can only be used to make calls to designated numbers. I’ll also have to make sure it has no street resale value if it gets lost or stolen.”
“Interesting. Is this your latest venture?”
“Yeah. I was thinking if you’d like to help me with this. Not just financially, but also on the development side. I need someone who understands my thinking. Someone who gets me.”
“And I do?”
“Yes.”
He grins. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
I flush when my brain registers my unintended double entendre.
“So, are you in?”
“I’d be honored. It sounds like fun.”
I point at the watch in his hand. “Why don’t you try it on?”
When Ryder curves the stainless steel strap of the smartwatch around his strong wrist, the sleek, dark-gray design looks even better on him than I had expected.
“I had this one made just for you. It’s shockproof and waterproof to a depth of six hundred feet, and you can also use to climb at high altitudes. The watch connects to your cell phone through satellite, so you’ll be able to receive calls, texts and emails through the watch with voice command, even if you’re not carrying your cell with you. And of course you can customize it with apps, so you change the watch face, check the weather, use a compass or GPS navigation, track your runs, and a lot more.”
I talk quickly, unable to quell the excitement bubbling inside me. Pressing a few buttons, I show him how to link the watch to his cell phone, and in no time, text and email notifications come through.
“Now you have no more excuses not to pick up your phone, or to make a call.”
“Ah. So that’s why you got me this watch? So you can always keep an eye on me?”
Ryder winks at me, and the memory of accusing him of spying on me causes a warm blush to creep up my cheeks.
“At least I don’t have to worry about you any more.”
I take out my cell and send him a text message. The watch lights up, and Ryder glances at it, grinning when he reads the message.
He raises the watch up to his face. “Text message to Elle. I love the watch.”
His eyes darken, and he gazes at me from underneath his eyelids.
“But not half as much as I love you.”
I swallow. My mouth suddenly feels like sandpaper. “Really?”
Ryder grabs my hand and rests it on his chest. “Do you still have to ask? Don’t you trust me, beautiful?”
“I do. I trust you.”
And the words that have never left my mouth, the ones that I’ve so desperately have tried to keep inside, come tumbling out: “I love you, too.”
It is as if a taut chain snaps inside of me, unlocking my heart and hurling my deepest, darkest secrets out in the open. I feel bare, exposed.
As if he knows how I feel, Ryder places his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulders. “I’m always there for you, beautiful. And as long as we’re together, we can overcome any obstacle that comes our way.”
Smiling against my ear, he whispers, “It’s a good thing I won that race. Because now I can finally call you mine.”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “You’d already won even before we had the race. I didn’t want to admit to myself, but I’ve been yours from the first moment we met.”
Grinning, Ryder pulls me against his chest, and I close my eyes.
This is where I belong. Right here, in Ryder’s arms.
I’ve found what I was looking for.
I’ve found home.
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Extract from
Burn For You
(sequel to
Burn Into Me
) by Jillian Leeson
ELLE
I think I’ve found paradise.
Tilting my head back towards the sky, I relish the caress of the sun’s rays on my face. My feet sink into the pillowy sand while the warm, crystal-clear water swishes around my ankles. Sparkles are dancing on the ocean, its gentle waves lapping at the shore. As far as I can see lies an endless stretch of golden sand, fringed by the blue waters and swaying palm trees. Without a soul in sight, this idyllic, secluded beach could easily appear in a movie or magazine as a playground of the rich and famous.
I dig my fingernails into my palm. This feels so surreal. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to find myself on this exotic island in the middle of the South China Sea. And definitely not with the gorgeous man next to me.
I wonder what we look like, Ryder and I walking hand in hand on the beach. I: pale, skinny, tattooed. He: tall, bronzed, and muscled—a perfect fit for this tropical nirvana. I look up at him, admiring his profile. Why would a man so incredible in every way would want to have
me
?
Long before I’ve finished taking in his square jaw and thick hair that I love running my hands through, Ryder’s dark eyes fall on me. But I am so engrossed in ogling the rippling muscles of his athletic body, covered merely by a pair of board shorts, that I don’t notice him bending over until it’s too late. He drags his hands through the water and splashes me in the face.
I freeze, but recover quickly, determined to get back at him. “Aaah! I’m gonna get you for that!”
I chase him as he runs into the ocean. Scooping up water with my hands, I try to splash him back, but the water only grazes his shorts. Ryder wades in deeper, and I follow, feeling the water level rising until I’m submerged up to my neck. I come to a stop and ponder my next move, when Ryder suddenly spins around and grabs me by the waist. I squeal once, and then again, harder, when he lifts me up and tosses me into the water. I go under and emerge sputtering out the salty water that is stinging my eyes. A vigorous rub with the back of my hands clears my vision.
Ryder is grinning at me, his wet hair sexily mussed and his chest covered in tiny droplets that trickle down every ridge and crevice of his defined muscles.
A challenging glint in his eyes, he beckons me with his hand. “Come and get me.”
I narrow my eyes and bare my teeth while I wade through the water with balled fists. I stop right in front of him and to my surprise, he remains motionless.
“Go on,” he says. “Try to catch me.”
I scoop up as much water as I can and splash it in his face. He wipes it away with the back of his arm, but he stays put, a wicked smirk curling around his lips.
“Is that all you can do, shorty?”
“You!” I lose all control and shove at him with all my might, hoping he’ll topple over. But I’ve unwittingly created the perfect opportunity for him to grab my arms and lock them behind my back. I struggle to break free, but I don’t stand a chance against his iron grip.
“Surrender,” he growls.
I shake my head. “No way.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me and makes an unexpected move: he starts tickling me. I try to resist, but his relentless tickles prove to be unbearable, and I soon cave, shrieking, “I give up, I give up!” His arms are around me again, and his smirk has changed into a warm smile. My heart swells—I haven’t seen him so playful and relaxed in a long while.
He leans his head forward so our foreheads are touching. He looks into my eyes, and my insides swirl into a melting mass when I see the expression in them.
“I wish we could stay here forever—just you and me,” he whispers.
“Me, too.”
“No matter what happens, remember that everything I do is to make you happy. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Knitting my brow, I nod slowly. What is he trying to say? He sounds ominous; it is almost as if he is preparing me for something that I’m not going to like. But I soon forget my unease when his lips hover over mine, infusing them with their warmth.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you, too,” I whisper back, and the instant I utter the last word, he crushes his mouth to mine. He hauls me against him, his chest hard against my breasts. One hand wraps around my hip, the other runs through my hair. His tongue sweeps inside my parted lips and finds mine, guiding it in a delicious tangle that shoots tingles to every single nerve of my body.
A frustrated mewl escapes my throat when he breaks away. But then his breath is against my ear. “I can never get enough of the taste of you.”
He trails hot kisses down my neck. “I can never get enough of you.”
With closed eyes, I lift my head to give him better access. I run my fingers up and down his pecs, and when his hand finds my bikini top, his thumb dragging across my nipple, a loud moan eludes me. Pressing closer to him, I rub my stomach against the thick arousal that’s straining at his board shorts. It instantly produces an equally loud moan from him that flies straight down between my legs, causing my internal muscles to clench.