Lila
Ryder backed me into the room until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sat down automatically, legs parting slightly as he stepped between them. He hovered over me, hands braced on the mattress on either side of my hips, caging me in without touching yet. Our faces were inches apart.
I swallowed hard, eyes locked on his. His lips were swollen and dark red from our long, hot kiss in the doorway. They looked fuller, wet, and almost bruised in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. My own mouth tingled, still tasting him—mint and heat and something darker that made my stomach flutter.
He watched me just as intently, gray eyes dark and steady. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted one hand and trailed two fingers down the outside of my thigh. The touch was feath
