Demanding Ransom (29 page)

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Authors: Megan Squires

BOOK: Demanding Ransom
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I pull
my hand from his and hold up my five fingers again.

“I think
I’m in love with you, Ran.” I thought I’d choke on the words, but the way they
flow out of me—the way they sound like they’ve always been there, right
on the tip of my tongue, just waiting for permission to finally be
uttered—makes everything in my world fall into place. “You’re this
captivating, witty, grace-filled, loyal man, and I love you.” I drop down a
finger with each statement. “I love you, Ran.”

He
hasn’t said anything, but instead listened intently while I bared my soul,
which honestly wasn’t as terrifying as I’d envisioned it being. The way he
looks at me right now, the way I see everything I’ve just declared reflected in
his eyes, melts something deep in my core.

The
water roils around us and my heart pounds in my chest, thunders in my ears, and
rattles my brain.

I
swallow hard. “I’ve owed you those five compliments for a long time, Ran.” I
force out an insecure, light laugh.

The ball
of muscle at the back of his jaw tightens and he shakes his head, his indigo
eyes tense. I feel the rush of air that he pushes out as he says, “And I think
I owe you something now.”

Ran
shoots forward and his mouth collides against mine with force. I bobble
backward in the water, and I’m immediately shocked when his lips give
instantly, molding softly despite the rush of impact. The heat of them, the
supple way they feel, the way he inclines in with just the right amount of
pressure, steals all of my senses from me—all but the one involving touch
because that’s all I am now, just one exposed nerve ending that feels every
single movement of his mouth against mine echoed in every part of my body.

Sliding
his hand out of the water and up the curve of my bare spine, the wet tips of
Ran’s fingers trail up my back. He cups the base of my head in his palm gently,
hooking his fingers into my hair that’s twisted there. It tumbles from its
temporary hold and spills across my shoulders, chilling them, but I’m all
chills now anyway, so they make themselves at home with the rest.

Our lips
haven’t parted and the way Ran angles as he tugs my bottom lip into his mouth
and then rotates his head the other way to deepen the kiss, makes me thankful
I’m submerged in water because everything in me goes limp and the water is the
only thing that keeps me afloat. If it weren’t for the buoyancy, I’d be a
puddle on the ground right now.

We both
draw in air. We’re probably just trading it back and forth between us, really.
Everything feels seamlessly synchronized as his lips tangle against mine. If
there’s some kind of ideal method for the way people are supposed to kiss, I’m
one hundred percent sure Ran has found the perfect formula. Like the necessary
ingredients are his mouth, my lips, and this exact moment in time, combined to
create this sensation that I didn’t know was possible.

Ran
slides back into the slope of the seat and I slink onto his lap, never breaking
the connection between us, still absorbing everything I can from his warm lips
that taste like honey, sweet and smooth.

I love
that he takes the lead—how he uses his hand at my neck to guide me and
move me so that our mouths counter the weight, the pressure, and the force of
the other. I part my lips, opening my mouth slightly, and feel the edge of
Ran’s tongue sliding over my bottom lip. That’s something I’d wanted to do to
him since the first night we’d met and he’s beaten me to it. I mimic his
movement as soon as his tongue pulls back into his mouth, and I trace the
shallow dip in the middle of his full bottom lip, feeling the perfection of it,
and it’s even better than I could have ever dreamed. And I’ve dreamt about it.
A lot.

My heart
flutters and my breathing does the same. The strands of icicles that hang at my
back sting my skin and I try to hide the shiver, but I can’t—no matter
how hot this tub is, the air that slices against me is freezing.

Like
he’s in tune with every single part of me—even my temperature—Ran
dips me back, guiding me under the crests and waves of water until just our
necks rise above it. I take advantage of the way our bodies wind around one
another and brush my hand over the muscles of his chest, running it down to the
ripples of his stomach, greedily gliding my hand over every curve. Ran keeps
his hands curled around my waist, though I’m guessing he wants to do the same
to me. The water disguises the sweat that drenches from my palm, but the beads
that form above my lip from the steam are still present. Ran’s breath rushes in
and out of him, picking up in tempo, increasing mine right along with it.

For one
brief moment he pulls back. “Maggie,” he says against my lips, his voice hoarse
and raw. “What are you doing to me?” He grasps me at arm’s length briefly enough
to look into my eyes, and the look he gives holds more intensity than our
entire kiss. It causes something in me to ache, and I know the only way to
appease it is to surrender my mouth to his again.

This
time I take charge, my hands on either side of his jaw, pulling his mouth onto
mine, letting him know exactly what I want. Ran lets me have my way. He doesn’t
lead, but follows me. I suck his upper lip between both of mine, dragging it
slightly into my mouth, just enough that the pull draws him closer and forces
him to respond. Not that he wouldn’t—our lips have been in perfect
unison, reacting to every movement from the other this whole time. I gain
confidence and snake my tongue into his mouth. Ran’s slides against mine,
exploring every inch of my mouth hungrily. A low noise escapes from his throat
and he pulls out of our kiss and says, “This is our limit, Maggie.” He runs his
tongue slowly across my lips and I go lightheaded, my heart racing, my breath
ragged and shallow. “We have to draw a line, because I’m about to cross it if
we don’t put one in place right now.”

I don’t
want to draw any lines and I’m all for bounding right through the ones he wants
to make, but the tenor in his voice and the way he nearly pleads with me pulls
at my core. And unfortunately, it almost turns me on more than our actual make
out session. The fact that Ran wants to take things slow is a crazy turn on,
which sort of defeats the whole purpose. It’s like some unfair, sexual
oxymoron.

“Okay,”
I hesitantly agree as our lips part. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I
reclaim some semblance of composure. “This is the line.”

But it
feels so strange to have a boundary with someone when I want to do so much
more. Brian and I never had any set boundaries, and I honestly didn’t even want
him the way I want Ran. Not even close. To have to pull back and limit it to
this, especially given how incredible this is, almost feels unfair. If kissing
Ran can make me feel this way, I can only imagine how everything else must be.

“Maggie.”
Ran’s lips connect with mine a final time in one heavy, long press. “That was
hot.” His eyes burn into mine, desire and need radiating through his gaze.

“Yeah,”
I smile against his mouth. “Well, we are in a hot tub.”

Ran
sweeps me around in the water and we settle against the side of the spa,
slinking down into the bench seats. He wraps his arm around me and I coil mine
around his waist. “That would have been hot in Antarctica.” He presses his
mouth against my crown of hair. “Seriously, best first kiss ever.”

“But in
all fairness, you admitted to not ever really
having
a first kiss. So I think that wins by default.”

“Maggie.”
Ran guides my head onto his shoulder and combs his fingers through the length
of my hair that swims around me in the rolling waves of the jets. “I’ve done
much more than that in my past, and I can promise you, there’s no comparison.
Not even on the same chart.”

“But it
was just a kiss,” I say, insecurity hanging in my voice. My breathing still
isn’t normal and I have to fight my lungs to adopt a rhythmic pace. It’s all
shallow and shaky now, and if I keep it up, I’ll end up passing out.

Ran’s
hand drops from my hair and floats down to the outside of my thigh where he
grabs onto it and runs his thumb over my skin tenderly. It takes a moment
before I realize it’s the leg with the scar, and for some reason, I feel like I
should be embarrassed—like he’s going to notice my imperfections just under
the pad of his thumb. But I think his hand placement might actually be
intentional, and there’s something comforting in the act—in knowing that
he chooses that leg, despite its flaws.

“Maggie,”
Ran says quietly, assuring me as he continues, “sometimes it’s not about what
you’re doing, but who you’re doing it with.”

“Sometimes
it’s about what you’re doing
and
who
you’re doing it with,” I suggest. My joints and muscles ache even more than
before, and I’m sure the way they tensed during our kiss didn’t help at all
with that. I let the warmth of the water wash over them and close my eyes as I
curl against Ran’s body.

“In our
case, yes.” With my eyes shut, Ran flips me around by my waist, drawing me onto
his lap again. Consuming me with his gaze, the tips of his fingers slide my
hair back on either side of my face, and he cups it between his palms. “And I’m
glad that we’re just getting started because if that was just a taste of what’s
in store, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to wait for more.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

“This is
a pretty good list.” Ran taps the pen to his lip, on that dip right in the
middle that I’ve sort of become obsessed with since the hot tub kiss. He’s
propped up on his elbows and looks down at the sheet of paper resting on the
pillow underneath him. I rotate my head to the side and glimpse the crinkled
parchment lying there. “Can you think of anything else?”

“Not at
the moment,” I say, sliding deeper under the covers. Today has been tiring in
so many ways and my body begs for some rest. “Did you get the sunrise one?” My
words are slow, like I’ve been drinking, but I’m really just drunk with sleep.
It has to be well past midnight.

Ran
bites down on the tip of the pen and nods. “Stay up long enough to see a
sunrise and sunset in the same day.” He lifts the paper up and brings it closer
to his face and then flips it over to examine the backside. “How long are we
allowing for all of these? Because it looks like there’s a fair amount of
travel, and money, involved.”

“I think
we should give ourselves the summer. That’ll give us six months to plan.”

Ran’s
lips purse. “Good idea. This one is my favorite.” He grins and shoves the paper
my direction, skimming his finger across the note scribbled there.

 

Do something permanent on a whim and do something
temporary after meticulous planning.

“That is
going to be the hardest one. I’m not good at permanent.”

Ran
glances down at his bare chest and arm covered in ink. “I am,” he smiles.

“And how
do you plan for something temporary? I can’t even come up with an example.”

“Our
entire list.” He flips onto his side and a gust of air puffs out of him. “Once
we finish everything on it, we can have some list burning ceremony or
something. This isn’t meant to be permanent—if it is, that means we’re
dragging our feet and not actually doing what we set out to do.”

He
softly places a kiss on the tip of my nose and folds the note into quarters.
“Get some sleep. Let me know if you come up with anything else in the morning.”
The bed frame creaks as Ran rolls off of it, our well-thought-out list between
his fingers. “This right here is the perfect example of doing something
incredible with some
one
incredible.
This is going to be awesome, babe.”

I perk
up, popping up onto my elbows, and shove the cover down so I can see him. “Did
you just call me babe?”

I can
see Ran’s cheeks flush even in the darkness. “Uh, yeah. I was trying it out.”
He shifts his weight. “Didn’t stick?”

“I don’t
know.” I wobble my head back and forth. “It just surprised me.”

“Sorry,
angel. I won’t call you babe anymore.”

I raise
my eyebrows.

“Pumpkin,
you don’t like angel, either?”

“No.” I
shake my head and my finger at him. “Definitely not pumpkin. That makes me feel
like I’m round and fat and have a bad spray tan.”

Ran laughs.
“Okay, sweetie, I won’t call you pumpkin.”

“See,
with sweetie I just think of candy, and that sounds like the name of a
stripper, and that’s just gross.”

“Sweetie
it is.” Ran shoots me a coy grin and then thumbs his chin and knits his brow
together. “How about love.”

My
readied insult catches in my throat. “Love?”

“Yes,
because that’s what I feel for you—in every sense of the word.”

I slide
back into the warmth of the bed. “I don’t know. You’ll have to try it out and
see. I could get used to it.”

Ran
skirts the edge of the bed and rounds the corner to stand at my side. He dips
down and presses a warm kiss against the shell of my ear. “Get some rest, my
love.”

I smile,
my eyes close, and I start to slip into that limbo of haze that comes before
sleep.

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