“Climbing high,” he said, repeating his earlier words. She really made him feel like that? He made her feel crazed.

He sank inside of her with one long thrust. She spread her legs wider, trying to give him better access, but he gripped her knees and pulled them around his middle. “Cling to me. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs as he fucked her hard. Deep. Over and over, banging his hips against hers, looking for every last inch he could take. And she gave it to him.

“If I can’t hold on to you, you’ll hold on to me,” he rasped in her ear. He gripped her wrist and brought it to his shoulder. She clung to him. Like he wanted. Like she wanted. But she couldn’t admit that now. Because while Ryder might think she was the breeze blowing wherever she pleased, he was the clap of thunder that boomed down, taking over her whole world and leaving her with nothing but shivers and the vibrating aftershocks of all his power.

And she was starting to fear that he was the kind of storm she wouldn’t be able to escape.

So she would cling to him until it passed. Wrap both arms around his back and sink in her nails. And that’s what she did—gripped tighter than she’d ever gripped anything, while he moved inside her.

She arched her back and let him take her over the edge. A slow burn moved along her entire body, starting at her toes and stretching to her neck, pulling and warming everything in between until all her skin was sensitized and buzzing with his raw lust.

Her release was intense, hot, and unending.

“I feel you,” he said, thrusting deep and staying right there. His body tightened and shook. His cock inside her hardened further and shot with his own pleasure. Every inch of his skin flushed with heat, and she felt him turn on like a furnace as he spent himself.

And she was there, clinging to him, catching every last ounce he’d give her, and praying to God she didn’t have to let him go just yet.

Chapter Twelve

Ryder’s eyes creaked open, and he was greeted with a glaring light. It took several moments to realize he wasn’t in his bed, he was in Whitney’s. And she was gone. The pillow next to him was cold. His hat rested on the pillow, and a single note propped on it read:

Had to work early. Didn’t want to wake you. Have a good day, cowboy.

He grinned…until he caught sight of the clock.

“Shit!” He was late. Davenport would be at the job site today, and Ryder was fucking late meeting with him.

He hustled to get dressed, and on his way out, he fastened his hat on top of his head and looked in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself. He looked brighter. Rested, maybe? He’d slept better last night than he had in years, but it would be a hell of a price to pay for a good night’s sleep if he didn’t get his ass in gear.

Speeding from the lodge to Davenport Hall on Main took only ten minutes, and thankfully he had a button-down on and a Stetson to hide his bedhead. With any luck, Davenport was running a few minutes late himself. But when Ryder pulled up, he saw Davenport’s car already parked out front.

Ryder went in the main entrance, which smelled of fresh paint. At least the walls in the foyer were done.

Davenport was coming down the staircase. “Glad you showed up. I was just getting ready to leave.” His expression was blank except for a touch of tension at the corner of his mouth. Davenport’s reputation for “leaving” was legendary. If he left, he never came back. And neither did his business.

This was bad. Really bad.

Of all the days to be late—which Ryder never, ever was—it had to be today.

He’d gotten caught up. Once again. Worst of all, this time he’d let himself get distracted despite knowing the consequences. He’d known what spending time with Whitney would do to him, and he’d done it anyway, because more than knowing he’d enjoy it, he’d needed it. Needed her.

“The Hall looks great,” Davenport said. “Ready for the grand opening on Saturday?”

“All that’s left if for the paint to dry.”

“Yes.” Davenport looked out the front door. “I know you run a tight ship. Stay within budget and get work done promptly. I’ll admit, I had my doubts.” He glanced at the cabinet, which now had a perfectly fit piece of granite resting atop of it. “I want someone I can count on. Not just for the Hall, but for future contracts. I’m looking to build a business park over at the edge of Diamond County.”

That would be huge. Something like that would bring in jobs for the town and get new business into the community for years to come.

Ryder ran his hand over the rim of his Stetson. “Who do you think could handle the job?”

“I was thinking of Diamond Construction,” Davenport said, never one to miss a hint, but the long exhale that went with it made Ryder pause. “But I must say your absence this morning, tied up with a few things I’ve heard around town, makes me wonder if you’re really the man for the job.”

“This morning was not normal for me.” Ryder didn’t want to go into details. Hell, he couldn’t go into the details. Wasn’t that the point? “But I assure you that if you’re considering my crew, we’ll deliver as always.”

“So you’re not up and taking off?”

Ryder frowned. “Why would I do that? Diamond is my home.”

“Yes, but rumor is, you’ve been slipping. Seen with some out-of-towner and talking of running off with her.”

What the fuck?

When had he been seen with Whitney? Aside from the BBQ, they’d been careful not to let anyone find them doing anything that wouldn’t be seen as anything other than platonic.

Except they hadn’t, had they? That day he’d run into her at the paint shop. He’d thought they were being careful stealing a kiss in the back of the store, but all it would have taken was one passing person to see them.

And now he would pay the price for trying to satisfy his own impulses, his own desires. It was the cost of losing judgment and control.

Whatever he liked about Whitney, whatever he needed or wanted from her, couldn’t last. And it sure as hell was affecting his judgment and his lifestyle.

He’d realized last night that no matter how tightly he clung to Whitney, he couldn’t keep her within the boundaries he needed to function. He’d messed up this morning. And now, that mistake was messing with his job, his company, his future. Because showing up late to a meeting with a major hitter in town was not the best way to renew his confidence in Ryder.

He couldn’t blame Davenport for questioning his work ethic, just like he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for getting caught up and not setting a damn alarm. He had to stop kidding himself and go cold turkey on Whitney. Because having a hit of her only made the addiction grow.

I want what’s bad for me…

“I can assure you, I’m here to stay, as is my crew, and we’d seriously appreciate the opportunity to earn your business again.”

Davenport nodded once. “Good. Then I’ll seriously consider it.” Ryder didn’t miss the threat in his tone. “If all goes well on Saturday, we’ll chat more then.” He turned to leave, and Ryder glanced at the sunshine beaming down outside the doorway. “By the way, Clara mentioned you might save a dance for her at the event.”

“Of course I’ll save a dance for her,” Ryder said.

Davenport smiled, but that tension remained at the edges of his mouth. “I think that’s wonderful. It could be the first step toward what I’ve always imagined as a full partnership between our families.”

A single dance didn’t matter if it helped him maintain this contract and any future business from Davenport, but Jesus, the man was being about as subtle as an earthquake. Ryder couldn’t turn him down outright, but he was playing a very dangerous game. He’d have to do what was necessary to keep this contract, and then figure out the rest as it came.