Free Tyler by Jo Raven Page B

tiptoes, but it’ll have to do—and grab a fistful of his T-shirt. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going? Why didn’t you ever call? Where were you, for chrissakes?”
    “What do you care?” he says, so quietly I’m only sure he spoke because I’m looking right at his beautiful mouth.
    My grip on his T-shirt tightens. “Are you seriously asking me this?”
    “You told me I should go and never come back.” His eyes close briefly, and a pang goes through my chest. “That I was a bastard and an asshole and wasn’t worth the trouble.”
    Christ. I let go of him and take a faltering step back. I did say those things, didn’t I? “I’m sorry.” My hormones played havoc with my feelings back then, intensifying every feeling. “What about you? Why did you leave instead of talking this out? I never got a chance to tell you I’m sorry, you just…” I bite my lip and let out a long breath, but it catches in my throat.
    Maybe he hears it because he reaches for me and trails his thumb down the line of my jaw. The gesture stills me completely as his dark eyes nail me. I see sadness there, and fear. What is he afraid of?
    “I had to go,” he whispers, and his hand drops away.
    “You left town, Tyler. Left everyone and everything, and nobody knew where you were. God, I was so worried.” My throat constricts; I can barely swallow.
    “You were?” There’s a hitch in his voice, as if he doesn’t believe it.
    “Yes, I was.” I’ve been so afraid for him for so long, I can hardly believe he’s here, alive and well. I reach up and slide my hand over his chest. It’s hard, solid. “Why, Tyler? Tell me why you left.”
    “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grinds out.
    I want to bang my fist on his chest and slap his face. My fingers curl against the soft fabric of his T-shirt, and I feel his muscles clench underneath.
    “Screw you,” I whisper, and I hope my voice won’t break and betray me. “That’s all you have to say to me? I’m not going to—”
    “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
    Shocked into silence, I stare at him. His gaze is moving over my body, a hot, silky glide that steals my breath. His pupils are dilated, making his eyes look black.
    I try again. “After all this time, I just want to know—”
    His hand hooks around my back, pressing me to his body, and he bends his head toward me, dark hair falling in his eyes. His mouth descends on mine, sealing the words inside.
    The world falls away with a murmur as he kisses me. I gasp and his tongue pushes inside, tangling with mine. He licks at my mouth, and he tastes so good—like dark chocolate and pepper. Familiar. Thrilling. Sexy.
    I want more. I slide my arms around his hips and kiss him back. His chest vibrates against me as he moans, and then he drags me closer, until my breasts are crushed against his firm abs.
    A tiny voice at the back of my mind is screeching in protest— this shouldn’t be happening, we should be talking, explaining, finishing this off —but it’s drowned in the rushing of blood in my ears, the thundering beat of my heart. His smell, his taste, the feel of his muscular body, it sends waves of scalding heat over my skin, through me, tightening the tips of my breasts, starting a pulse between my legs. I cling to him as I burn from the inside out; I desperately need him—need to feel him around me, against me, inside me. Everywhere where he’s been missing for so long.
    His hands move down to the small of my back, then lower, lifting my skirt. He swallows my moan of protest and slips a hand round the front, inside my panties. I gasp as his callused fingers touch me, slide inside me.
    Oh God, oh crap. It feels so good. He strokes me, rough and tender, soft and hard, until my body starts to shake. Pleasure rips through me, tearing me apart.
    “No,” I whisper, panting harshly.
    “Erin?” Tyler’s soft voice focuses me.
    I open my eyes—can’t remember closing them. And the voice of reason that I