In the Likely Event Read Online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Rebecca Yarros Advertisement1

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“I need . . .” He turned toward me as I closed the door, and the turmoil in his crystal-blue eyes nearly brought me to my knees. “I just need you.”

“Okay.” I nodded.

“Izzy.” It was both a plea and a warning as he scanned the length of my body and shifted his weight. The heat in his eyes was unmistakable; it was the same way he’d looked at me on my birthday last year. “I don’t think you understand—”

“I know what you’re saying,” I whispered.

Our eyes locked, and a second later, my back was against the door, and Nate’s mouth fused with mine.

He tasted the same, but the kiss was nothing like the ones we’d shared before. It was a clash of tongues and teeth, like every problem he faced could be forgotten if he simply lost himself within me. I kissed him back just as hard, showing him I could take whatever he wanted—needed—to give.

He’d never hurt me, nor would he ever push me any further than I already wanted to go.

And I wanted him.

His lips were chilled but his tongue warm as it twined with mine. All of him was cold and wet, his clothes no doubt soaked all the way through to his skin. His hands skimmed the outside of my robe, and then he gripped the backs of my thighs, lifting me against the door so our mouths were level.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on, winding my arms around his neck as he kissed me harder, deeper. Rainwater dripped from his hair and down his cheeks, but that didn’t stop us. My teeth scraped his lower lip, and when he moved to draw back, I sucked his tongue back into my mouth and relished in the groan that rumbled through his chest.

Need raced through my veins like lava, flushing and heating my skin—even my thighs, which took the brunt of the cold from his sodden suit.

He shifted, carrying me without breaking the kiss as he crossed the suite. But he didn’t take me to the bedroom. My ass hit the dining room table as I fought with the wet fabric of his tie, finally loosening the knot enough to get it over his head. I shoved the wet jacket from his shoulders next, and it hit the floor with a thwack.

“Drop your legs,” he ordered between deep, drugging kisses.

I unhooked my ankles and let my legs dangle over the edge of the table.

“Perfect.” His hands stroked up my thighs, under the cloth of my robe, and my stomach fluttered. I knew exactly what he could do with those hands, those very talented fingers, and I was more than ready.

But the touch I so sorely wanted didn’t come.

I unbuttoned his shirt with fumbling fingers, too eager to keep my mouth on his to bother looking at what I was doing. After finally undoing the last one, I tugged the shirt free from his pants and somehow managed to unfasten the buttons at his wrists while his hands kneaded my thighs. He kissed my mouth, my cheeks, my neck, while I tugged the reluctant, clinging fabric of his shirt from his body.

Then I pulled back and looked at him.

“Nate,” I whispered, awestruck by the body he’d honed to utter perfection. He’d put on muscle over the last eighteen months, his torso still carved, his abs still ridged to mouthwatering magnificence, but now there was simply more of him. The deep fuck-me lines that ran down the edges of his stomach begged to be traced by my tongue. I jerked my gaze up to his. “You’re incredible.”

“You’re all I want.” He cupped the back of my neck. “It doesn’t matter how far I go or how long I’m away. I dream about you. Even when I know you’re with someone else—”

“I’m not,” I assured him, shaking my head.

“Or when I’m with someone else—” he continued, and my heart stuttered.

“Are you?” I leaned away, bracing my palms against the table as I waited for my heart to beat regularly again. He wasn’t mine. I wasn’t his. That was the agreement we’d made.

And yet he was always mine.

I was always his.

“No. Not in over six months.” He looked at me, and for a heartbeat, I cursed this bond between us, the irrational jealousy that had gripped my stomach when I’d read that particular letter about the woman he’d been seeing. “But even then, as much as it makes me an asshole to admit it, you were all I wanted, Izzy.”

“I know.” I nodded. “It’s the same for me.”

He crushed my mouth to his, the kiss softer than before, but just as deep, just as powerful. It robbed me of my breath, my thoughts, and any inhibitions that might have lingered.

Then he leaned over me, lowering me until my back rested on the table.


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