But it didn’t matter. Not right now. Because all of his doubts, all of his concerns, were washed away by sunshine. By her. Her heat and warmth and everything else. Lighting him up from the inside out. That was a truth that was with them, whether it was seventeen years ago or today. When things were dark, there was Sammy. When he thought he would never smile again, there was Sammy. Beautiful, constant. The one thing in the world that made sense, even when she didn’t.

There was nothing outside this truck. There was nothing outside the space they’d made with just the two of them. And there was no space between them. Not at all. He held her as she rode him, as she arched her back and let her head fall back, ecstasy rolling over her like a wave. A wave that he could feel. As if it were his own. Her pleasure was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced.

His own didn’t matter, not half as much.

She reached her peak, panting and shuddering out his name, and then he reached between her thighs and stroked her until she reached the peak again, until she went over.

And again.

Until she was begging him to stop. Until he couldn’t keep it going anymore. Because he had been pushed to his breaking point.

He lost himself. Thrusting up into her and never once losing sight of the fact that it was Sammy. His Sammy. That this was different. But it was more.

He held on to her shoulders and slammed into her one last time, his pleasure a roar in his blood, in his chest, his head.

He could hear it reverberating in the cab of the truck, and he knew that it was outside him, too. That he had lost himself completely in a way that he hadn’t ever before.

She collapsed against his chest like a wilted flower. He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek.

“You killed me,” she murmured, her breath hot on his chest.

“I hope not,” he said. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He found her top and put it back on her, and then put the rest of her to rights before taking a moment to step out of the truck and engage in condom disposal. Then he got back inside and turned the engine on.

“Let’s go home.”

And he meant his home. His bed.

If she was bothered by that, she didn’t protest.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE NEXT MORNING Sammy woke up with her body tangled all around Ryder’s. He was so beautiful. And the way he made her feel...

Last night had been...intense.

Intense on a level she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.

She extricated herself from his hold and hunted around the room. It was late. Much later than he normally got up. And later than she typically got up for their bacon day. She didn’t want to wake him. Instead, she stood there, staring at him. The gray light was filtering beneath the crack in the curtain, casting his face in a glow. He looked so much more relaxed. Usually, even in sleep his face held tension.