Free The Three Fates of Ryan Love by Erin Quinn Page A

protect you from the monsters under the bed.”
    His voice was tired, but his words settled deep inside her and she knew they were true. He wouldn’t abandon her to this frightening fate that was of her own making. He wouldn’t turn out the light when she closed her eyes and disappear into the darkness.
    He’d only just met her, certainly didn’t trust her, yet he would do his best to keep her from harm.

R yan’s room was in the back of the house, his window under the boughs of a giant mesquite that had withstood monsoons, haboobs, and freak hailstorms aplenty. It was a tough, useful native of this desert land. The mesquite and he had been friends all his life. He’d climbed it as a boy, thanked it for not making him mow beneath it in the summer as an adolescent, and praised it for keeping the sun out of his room in the mornings as a teenager. Now the shadow of its branches moved across the wall with the intermittent gusts of wind outside.
    It was almost 6:30 a.m., but he couldn’t blame the breaking dawn for his wakefulness, because his room was still dark. It was Sabelle, all warm and soft and undeniably female in the bed beside him.
    She wasn’t asleep, either, and every little twitch she made burned a trail through his senses. He could still see her standing in his doorway, his high school T-shirt taut at her breasts, his jeans clinging to her thighs, tight on her hips. No bra. No underwear, unless she’d borrowed a pair of his. Even the sock feet had turned him on. The socks were too big, baggy at the ankles. Sexy in a way that defied explanation. She looked like some sugar-sweet porn star dressed in too-tight boy’s clothes.
    He was rock hard inside his jeans and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Well, there was one thing, but the only part of him that thought it was a good idea couldn’t be counted on for sound reasoning.
    She’d come to use him, but she’d saved his life, too, and even though he knew he’d regret it later, he pulled her closer. His hips to hers, belly to spine, chest to shoulders. The pillow separated her cheek from his arm, but his other one crossed her ribs and came to rest beneath the warm, seductive weight of her breasts. A turn of his palm and he’d be cupping one.
    He couldn’t help himself. He let the backs of his fingers brush against the underside. It was so soft that it made him groan.
    Her hair kept tangling with the shadow of beard he hadn’t thought he’d need to shave. Now he wished he had so he could rub his chin against the silky skin at the crook of her neck.
    â€œAre you asleep?” she asked in a soft breath.
    The sound of her voice was a welcome distraction. He eased away so she wouldn’t feel just how un asleep he was.
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œWhat are you thinking about?”
    Touching. Kissing. Fucking. You.
    â€œI’m wondering why I’m not asleep.”
    â€œAre you okay?”
    She rolled onto her back just as he rose up on his arm to answer. The shift in weight, the dip in the mattress. She kept going, ending up on her side, facing him, her body warm and yielding against his, her hands spread over his ribs. She didn’t try to put space between them. Neither did he. He eased down and brought her even closer. His body thought it a good decision. Not enough blood was reaching his brain to contradict it.
    Her hair had fallen forward and Ryan skimmed it away from her face, letting his fingers linger at her cheek. She had the softest skin.
    She brushed her fingers against his bare chest. He answered the liberty by trailing his hand down her shoulder to the soft slope of her back. She arched like a cat and the languid undulation rippled through his body. Jesus, she felt good. He had one shiny moment of sanity before she did it again. He couldn’t remember why he’d thought this a bad idea.
    She grew quiet once more, her mouth close to his throat, her