Lila Heat flooded my face, my chest, everywhere. The word echoed in my ears like a gunshot, vulgar, defiant, mine for the first time in years. And hearing him call me “his girl” after it did something to me. Something dangerous. My body betrayed me again. My hips twitched forward, chasing the fullness even as tears of overwhelm pricked my eyes.I grabbed his wrist, not to push him away this time, but to hold him there, trembling. My breaths came in shallow pants. The truck felt too small and too hot, the air thick with the scent of us, sweat, arousal, and pine from outside drifting through the cracked window.Ryder didn’t move his finger yet. He just watched me, gray eyes stormy under the hat brim, drinking in every flicker across my face: the shock, the shame, the helpless want.“You’ve been holding that in a long time, haven’t you?” he said quietly.I couldn’t answer. I couldn't even speak at all. All I could do was nod once, small and jerky, lip still caught between my teeth.His
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