The sound of knocking on my front door comes about fifteen minutes later.
Vampire Bill is squawking like crazy as I jump up, grab my long cardigan, and slip it on over my shoulders. I run to Charisma’s room and open the door. She isn’t there, and I exhale, recalling a message saying she was staying over with someone.
A knock comes again, and I fly into the den with my pepper spray in hand.
“Who is it?” I shout, once again cursing the fact that I don’t have a peephole. I really need to get one installed.
“Ryker. You didn’t reply to my text. Did you really think I was just going to let that go?” His voice is dry.
I dash the few steps over to the hall mirror and check my appearance. I look…insane. My hair is poking out in crazy places everywhere, and I do my best to smooth it down. One side of my face has a bit of drool from where I had just fallen asleep, and I scrub at it frantically.
“Penelope. Open the door.” I hear a quietness in his tone that makes me work even faster.
I jerk open the hall drawer, pull out a tube of lip balm, and slap it on. It’s not my preferred color tint, but what’s a girl to do when she has a six-foot- four sexy man outside her door? You gotta take what you can get.
And my boobs. Shit! I have no padding. Nothing but a lace camisole. I tug the sweater around me.
“Give me a minute,” I call out and turn toward my bedroom. Maybe I have time to put on a bra—
“Nope, Red. Now.” Oh. There’s that teeny bit of command in his tone, and I like it.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn back around and fling open the door. Wearing black gym shorts and a button-up white shirt—very confusing—
his broad shoulders shift as he slouches against my doorframe. His hair is brilliantly mussed and his eyes gleam.
Crazy outfit or not, he is gorgeous. “Kinda late for a visit. I’d definitely classify this as booty call category.”
He straightens up and rakes stormy eyes over me, lingering on my lips. “You put on lipstick.”
“It’s tinted lip balm.”
He grins. “You only put that stuff on when you’re nervous.” “Not true.”
“Don’t even try with me.”
A smirk plays around his full lips, and I let out an exhale. “Did you drive all the way over here to discuss my makeup routine?”
His eyes glitter. “Invite me in. Isn’t that what you have to do for vampires?”
I give him a quizzical look. “No, not all vampires. It’s different depending on who wrote the book. Twilight’s vamps can enter any door they want, but Stephen King’s scary vampires in Salem’s Lot have to be invited inside.” I wrinkle my nose. “His version is particularly scary. Razor sharp teeth, black eyeballs.” I take a big breath. I’m rambling.
“I’ll let you tell me all about it if you want.” His eyes flash to the inside of my house. “I want to come inside.” The silky sound of his voice vibrates every atom inside me.
Come inside…
I’m thinking bad thoughts.
“Why?” My voice is wobbly with nerves. I grip the door. “There’s only one reason a guy shows up at a girl’s house at one in the morning.”
“But you aren’t that kind of girl,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on my chest and working its way down to my legs. His eyes come back to mine and I falter, seeing the way his have darkened. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”
I suck in a breath.
He huffs out a laugh and props a muscled bicep against the doorframe then leans down until our faces are inches apart. “You ignored my text, Red. You ignored a text where I said some pretty revealing shit. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Should I be pissed off? Should I pretend it never happened? Or better yet, should I just come over here and prove to you that I meant every word?” He pauses and pretends to think. “But you know, in a way, I’ve been doing that already. I feel like I’m always proving shit to you. Hell, I spent two hours fixing your car tonight. What else do you need to see that I’m the one you want?”
“You left me at Cadillac’s with another guy!” “So you could see you didn’t really want him.”
My mouth is open, and I quickly shut it. My body, which has a mind of its own, leans toward him until I’m standing on the threshold, our bodies an inch from touching. “I want you,” I say.
He cups my face, his blue-green eyes at half-mast. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?”
“How long?” I ask on an exhalation, our breaths mingling. He smells like toothpaste and it makes me smile. He prepared before coming here.
“Maybe since the moment you wrote that article, and I saw you on
campus and made the connection. You don’t care who I am. You’re the most honest person I know.”
“So before I spilled water on you?” He laughs.
Butterflies flip in my stomach. I tug on his shirt until his lips are a breath away from mine. “Then shut up and kiss me.”
He captures my mouth and murmurs my name as his hands go to my lower back, pressing me against him. Forget that bookstore kiss. Forget every kiss I’ve ever had. This one is real. This one is fire and ice and burns so good. His tongue tangles with mine, going deeper, searching and tasting me. His lips consume me and I give it back just as good, our mouths battling for dominance. He pushes his hands into my hair and I moan as his teeth nip at me, his tongue insistent. Need and desire build momentum within me, and I think I might combust from a kiss alone. This. Him. I’ve wanted him forever. Maybe back to the first time I saw him come out of that bathroom at the Tau house with only a towel wrapped around him.
He stops to breathe, his forehead resting against mine as our chests heave. “Fuck me, Red. You’re on fire.” He presses his mouth against my neck and sucks hard, and I groan at the flashes of electricity it sends straight to my core.
“I’m so glad you came for me,” I whisper.
He pauses, and I look up to see his throat working. “I like those words on your lips.”
I take his hand in mine, and we walk inside. He shuts the door and turns back to face me.
My chest is heaving. His is too. My eyes flick down to the bulge in his gym shorts. God. He’s probably huge.
My eyes fly up to his face, and he’s wearing a smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His eyes go to my notebook on the desk. “You been writing in your notebook about me?” he asks, and it’s such a non sequitur that I shake my head.
Realization dawns and I gape. “You read the Holy Grail?”
He holds his hands out. “At Sugar’s, but before you freak out, I didn’t mean to.”
“What part did you see?”
“Where the Duke of Waylon ravishes the virgin with his big cock.”
I blink, adjusting to the knowledge. “Well, you seem to have gotten the gist of it.”
He trails a finger down to my sweater and unbuttons the first button. His lips brush my collarbone. “I can make it come true.”
“Big appendage and all?”
He undoes another button, eyes like fire as they brush over me. “Oh, Red,
you have no idea.”
I don’t. I really don’t. “I’m a virgin. I know I told you already, but I feel the need to point it out again.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” He undoes the next button and parts the sweater until the lace bodice of my camisole appears. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Well, don’t get your hopes up.” I wave my hands around my chest. “This is all smoke and mirrors. My bras are all padded.”
“Is that so?” He gives me a hot look as he unbuttons the last one and pushes the cardigan off my arms. It drops to the floor, forgotten. With a slight brush of his fingers, he cups my breast through the camisole, his fingers tweaking my nipple. “You couldn’t be any more perfect.”
His eyes hold mine and the air is electric.
I’m going to die if he doesn’t do something soon.
I must have spoken aloud because he chuckles and pushes the top of my camisole down, easing the delicate straps lower until the garment slides down and my breasts are free. My nipples rise to meet him as his head lowers and he kisses them. He cups me in his palms and massages, tugging until I clasp his head in my hands, gripping his scalp as his tongue toys with my peaks, taking them in his mouth and sucking. He’s gentle then rough and hard.
I can’t breathe. Delicious sensation wraps around me. “Ryker.”
“Hmmm,” he moans as he kisses up my neck to my ear. “Where’s your bed?” he whispers.
I point him in the right direction as he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to my room.
“Shit! Jock!” Vampire Bill squawks.
Ryker laughs and sets me down on my feet. I reach down to pull up my camisole, but he stops me. “No, don’t hide your body,” he murmurs as he trails a hand through my hair.
I reach for him, and we kiss, the intensity rising. I tear at his shirt, but the buttons are tiny, and I can’t get it open fast enough. He rips at it until they fly around the room, landing with little pings on the hardwood floor. He whips his arms out and tosses it away as if it offends him.
He stands there, his sculpted chest rippling with muscles, the deep V of his hips disappearing into his shorts. I touch the golden curls on his chest.
“You wore the white shirt…for me?” He smirks. “I know you like it.”
A long sigh escapes my lips, and I curl my hand around his shoulder then tug him close until we’re pressed together. I lean down and tease his nipple with my mouth.
“Red,” he moans, tightening his arms around me.
I lean my head down to listen to his heartbeat. It’s as erratic as mine, and I know, I know…
“You’re perfect,” I say, my voice bemused. Happy.
“Don’t stop kissing me,” he groans before taking my mouth again. We kiss and kiss until I can’t think. His lips skate down my neck to my chest. He falls to his knees, his hands cupping my ass. He moves slowly and deliberately as his tongue finds my navel and explores while I arch my back to get closer. I call out his name, my hands twining in his hair. His touch is masterful.
With a deft motion, he pushes my lace shorts down to my ankles and his mouth kisses my hipbone, sucking there.
“What are you doing to me?” I breathe.
“Whatever you want,” Ryker replies, looking at me with dark, heavy- lidded eyes.
I want it all, my heart thunders.
“We don’t have to take this all the way,” he says softly. “But I’m going to make you come. Hard. You’re going to be begging me to fuck you. You’re going to be begging me to fuck you every single day you’re alive…”
I nearly orgasm right then. “You’re the cockiest sonofabitch I know,” I murmur.
“Is that a yes?” he growls, his hand sliding in between my legs and sawing back and forth over my clit.
There’s a boldness in his gaze as he watches me. Rapt attention. He quivers, a full body tremor as I spread my legs apart, and he eases me down on the bed. I’m half on and half off as he kisses the top of my foot, the inside of my knee, the birthmark I have on my thigh, lavishing attention. His fingers pinch my nipples lightly, as if I’m a fine piece of porcelain and he’s exploring it. His mouth trails hot kisses over my stomach and he’s murmuring my name and saying how good I am, how beautiful—
He licks my center, and my back arches, writhing in sensation as he plays me. The pleasure is exquisite and excruciating at the same time. I want to bend space and time so that we never leave this bed, his mouth always torturing me.
I throw my hands behind my head and scoot to be closer to his hot mouth. He props my legs open wider and devours me, his fingers working my core, his mouth skyrocketing me straight to the heavens.
“Ryker,” I moan, my head thrashing. I feel disoriented, a taut string between him and my body and a fire that’s gathering at the base of my spine. I’m going to spin out of control.
“Come,” he says, his scruffy jaw brushing against my inner thigh. “Come, Red.” His finger slides inside me, catalyzing a storm. “You’re mine,” he says against my pussy with a hard suck of his lips, and the vibration combined with his tongue sends me over the edge. I detonate and shatter into a million pieces, falling and falling until I’m nothing but sensation and need and desire.
Tears spring to my eyes.
The aftershocks vibrate my body, and he rides it out with me, taking me further with his mouth, pushing me until I scream out his name.
“Hell yes,” he says as he makes his way up to my face.
He kisses me hard, and he tastes sweet and hot. I’m spent, a limp puddle of nothing, but my hands eagerly curl around his shoulders.
In a smooth motion, he picks me up, slides underneath, and places me on top of him.
He holds me tight to his chest. As if he’ll never let me go. “That, babe, is third base first class.”
 |
A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s two in the morning, but neither of us is asleep. We talk about everything. He tells me about always striving to be the best in football, hoping it’s enough for his dad, hoping his mom will hear about how talented he is. Emotion clogs my throat when he tells me he only talks to his dad once every few weeks. My mom is gone, but she always had time for me. I guess I was lucky that way, and not everyone is. He’s never seen a good relationship. I guess I haven’t either, but with him, I’m starting to think there’s hope.
Hope is a dangerous thing, though, because the more you hope for something, the more painful it is when it all comes crashing down.
But I don’t think about that. Not now. Not while he’s in my bed and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
“What would you do if you didn’t have football?” I ask. Snuggled in his arms, I play idly with one of his chest hairs.
“I’d take over Chris Pratt’s role in Guardians of the Galaxy.” He grins. I tug at one of the hairs, making him yelp.
“What’s that for?” His tone is indignant. “Because you’re not giving me a serious answer.”
He laughs, looking over at me. “Okay, serious answer: football is it. I love the game and the high I get from being on the field. If I lost it…I don’t know. Maybe coach. What about you?”
“I’m the same. It’s writing or nothing for me. Like you said, Walter isn’t the only agent around.”
He nods, playing with a strand of my hair, twisting it around his fingers. “You know, your dad has given me some pretty good advice about the NFL.”
“Yeah?”
He thinks for a moment, his eyes holding mine. “And I’ve been thinking…if I got you pregnant, I would never leave you.”
He delivers the words softly, and I suck in a sharp breath.
We both lie there and stare up at the ceiling, the dim light from the den, which I never turned off, softly illuminating the room.
It’s an easy silence, the kind where barriers are let down and there’s hope and promise. Ryker takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together.
I prop my head up on my arm. My hand rests on his chest, still amazed that his heart is racing because of me.
“Make love to me, Ryker.”
He freezes, his hand tightening in my hair. He tugs me down until we’re nose to nose. There’s earnestness in his eyes. “I mean, I’m dying to make this official, but are you sure?”
I nod.
His face is undecided, and I pop him on the arm. “What? You came over here for the booty call, remember?”
“This isn’t a booty call,” he says.
“Are you going to ravish me or not, Lord Ryker?”
He bursts out laughing, and before long, we’re both chuckling, but soon his hands are on my skin, brushing against my face as he stares into my eyes. He kisses me languidly and long, his tongue toying with me, teasing me.
“There are condoms in the nightstand,” I tell him as I push down his shorts and take in his cock as it bounces against his abdomen. It is magnificent and better than I ever imagined, long and deliciously hard. I curl my fingers around the mushroom-shaped bulbous head and stroke.
He closes his eyes and moans. “Fuck.”
Emotion and desire guide me as I take him in my mouth and lavish attention on him, my fingers holding him steady. He calls my name, asking me to stop, but his voice is needy, and I don’t. I feel a heady sense of power over him. He’s intoxicating. Or the feeling is. I don’t know because I can’t even define it. I’m a vast vortex of sensation, and he’s the only thing I want to fill me up.
His hands are everywhere, on my breasts, my ass, my hips, my core. Stroking. Caressing. Making me moan. I don’t know where he ends and I begin. I do what he indicates and touch him wherever my fingers decide to go. It’s mind-altering, and when I tell him to, he maneuvers me underneath him.
His hands tremble as he slides the condom onto his shaft. “You okay?” Sweat beads on his forehead as he hovers above me.
“Yes.”
There’s a look of hesitation on his face, and for a moment, I think he
might jump out of bed and leave. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. “Ever.” “You won’t.”
His body cages me in as he props himself up and gets in position. Guiding his cock, he slides in slowly, pushing with an easy pump. He stops and watches me.
“More,” I say, and he goes in farther. I wince at the bite of pain that vibrates in my center. We’re truly one. Connected.
“Fuck, you feel so good. I want to go slow, but…” His voice is jagged. I nod because I can’t speak.
He eases out and then back in, his thickness stretching me, and I feel every hard inch as he glides back and forth. I move against him, wanting the friction, wanting him. With his free hand, he tilts my chin up so we’re face to face. He’s panting and his arm quivers from holding himself taut.
I’m bombarded by intense sensations, by a million bolts of fire that are currently coursing through my skin.
Why did I wait so long? I was waiting on him.
Guided by instinct, I lift my leg and crook it around his back while his hips thrust inside me. His tempo speeds up, his chest heaving with exertion. I twitch from the primal pleasure of it and writhe underneath him, pain turned to pleasure as I urge him on with my hands. I lick his nipple and suck, and he tosses his head back, his cock velvet steel as he makes me his.
I reach up and run my tongue up his neck, tasting his sweat. He bites his lip and gives me a searching look that defies explanation and emotion.
I’m lost in heady desire. Him. All him. I stand at the edge of a cliff, tall above a beautiful blue-green ocean, and with one little step I’m diving in headfirst until I shatter upon hitting the warm waters. Pleasure blooms over my skin, taking me deeper.
“Ryker,” I say as I come and my body clenches around him, milking his. I’ve never been so alive; yet, I’m dying at the same time.
My orgasm sends him into a tailspin. His breathing quickens, his eyelashes fluttering as he strokes inside me, fast and hard, my name a litany on his lips. Cupping my ass in his hands, he lifts me to get deeper. We’re up against the headboard, and it bangs against the wall. His shoulder hits the nightstand and my wine glass and book fall. The sound of our sex, the smell of him in my nose…this is everything.
Drenched in sweat, he looks down at me. “I could stare at you for a hundred years.”
“Ryker,” I whisper as he throws his head back and increases his tempo, his hands adjusting me for deeper friction.
“Red, yes. Fuck yes.” His cock thickens, and I groan as he roars his
release, his body clenching and shaking as he strokes inside me.
He collapses on top of me as if he’s just sprinted a thousand yards.
His beautiful, hard body is the best thing I’ve ever felt. I cling to him as we wrap our arms around each other, and for the first time since my mom passed, it feels like everything really does have meaning. A purpose. There really is fate. There really is emotion that transcends sorrow and sadness, those pains merely preparing you to accept the sweetness in life. Love.
|
“That was better than any chocolate I’ve ever eaten,” I say to him a few minutes later as I lay propped up on his bicep with my leg thrown over his thigh.
He chuckles and looks down at me with a gleam in his gaze. “It’s not always like this.”
I come to attention. “Is it because we have…something?”
“Hmmm.” He plays with a strand of my hair, twisting and twining it around his fingers.
It’s not the answer I want, but I can tell he’s teasing me by the little smirk that plays around his mouth.
I pluck at one of the springy hairs on his chest. Laughing, he shoots up and pins me beneath him. “Woman, if you’re going to pull my beautiful chest hairs out, I’m going to make you pay.”
“How?”
He leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth, and I groan.
A few breathless moments pass and the need between my legs returns, longing to be extinguished. I feel his cock hardening next to my thigh, so I wrap my fingers around it and stroke. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him. “I love what you do to me.” My voice is rough.
He raises his head and looks at me, his gaze glittering. His chest heaves and a slight flush makes his color high. “I have so much to show you…”
I stroke his length, my thumb brushing over the wetness of his cock now that he’s taken the condom off.
“Like what?”
He moves until he’s sitting up propped against the bedframe with his hands on my hips. He grabs another condom and slides it on then shifts me until I’m straddling him. He guides his cock inside me, taking me by the waist and leading me until I get the rhythm.
He tangles his hands in my hair as I ride him, sliding him in and out, moving my pelvis until the friction rubs against my clit. I moan.
“Everything, Red,” he says breathlessly against my neck. “I’m going to show you the whole fucking world.”
|
The next day I’m awake by six and running on nothing. Both of us have shadows under our eyes as we hop in the shower. Together.
Afterward, while he’s styling his hair—it’s a process, he says—I go through my closet carefully for the perfect outfit. I’m not a virgin anymore, and for some reason that requires something a little extra. Maybe a scarlet A? I laugh under my breath.
With my best bra on, I pick a fitted pink Chi Omega T-shirt and a navy plaid skirt that’s the shortest thing I own. I pair it with some booties and we walk out of the house together. I feel high from the possessive way he looks at me.
He opens the door for me, and I blush and drift past him, catching a whiff of his male scent. Mmmm. Not Polo. I smile at him and he laughs.
“Sleep well?” he asks as he slides in the cab and shuts the door. “Excellent.”
He grins over at me as he pulls away from the curb. “Nice dreams?” “Pirate dreams.”
A slow grin works its way up Ryker’s face.
We’re quiet most of the drive, because hello, we just had sex. Spectacular, mind-blowing sexy times.
“Why are you giggling?” he asks, tossing a glance at me. I bite my lip. “Just thinking about last night.”
“About how awesome it was?”
I scoot over to his side. “Meh, it was okay.”
He flashes his gaze over at me. “Liar, but I forgive you. Just promise me you’ll sit this close to me every time you get in my truck.” His arm goes around my shoulders, and I slide in closer. His thigh is pressed against mine and my insides melt at our proximity. How it is possible that I want him… again?
Once we pull up to the parking lot, I see my car and can’t help the smile that comes to my face. He did that. He went out and bought a tire and lugged it back to the Waverly and used his own tools to fix my car—and I didn’t even
ask him to. It makes me horny.
My eyes jump to him, and he’s grinning at me. Still wearing last night’s shirt and shorts, he looks deliciously rumpled and sexy. “We’re here,” he says softly.
“I see.”
He rushes around to open my door and I slide out, gazing up at him. He towers over me, and I put my hand on his chest. His ocean-colored gaze is intense as it brushes over the features of my face.
“Thank you for fixing my car.”
“Thank you for last night,” he says then kisses me gently. My arms go around him and we go from zero to a thousand in a heartbeat. I’m squirming against him, pressing myself against his hard cock. He murmurs my name as his hand slips around my lower back and slides under my skirt. Precisely why I wore it.
His mouth moves down my neck as his fingers dance over the silk of my underwear. He hitches my leg up and wraps it around his waist, his hand gliding up my thigh to my panties—
A car horn blows in the distance and we both laugh under our breaths as we separate.
He smirks down at me. “I guess it’s not a good idea to make out right in the middle of town.”
“No,” I agree, clearing my throat. Then I see his neck on the left side, the side that was facing away from me during the drive, and I bite back a smile.
“What is it?” he says when I let out a giggle.
“I gave you a hickey last night.” His eyes flare as I lean forward and touch the purple bruise near the base of his throat. “It’s barely noticeable,” I say.
I reach for my purse and pop out my compact mirror to let him see it. He laughs and looks back at me. “Your mark.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “That’s right.”
“So…when can I see you again?” His voice is husky. He rests his forehead against mine when I don’t answer right away. “Well?”
“Why?”
He looks down at me. “I want you. You want me. There’s nothing complicated about that.”
I want you. It does sound simple, and I may have given him my V-card, but if this is just a let’s-fuck-a-while kind of thing then I want to play it cool. I have my pride. “What is it about me specifically you want?”
He looks at me. Arches a brow. “Really? Did I not just make you orgasm three times?”
I feel tension building in my chest, and I battle it down. I’m not going to be sucked into my insecurities right now. “I’m not a jersey chaser and I want things clarified.”
“Oh.” He stills, a line forming on his forehead as his brow pulls down. “Are you planning on…doing laundry with anyone else soon?”
“No. I’ve been waiting on you to figure out that I’m the hot piece you want—not Connor.”
I grin. “Then you can see me soon.”
“Soon?” There’s a hint of impatience in his voice, but I ignore it. I nod. “Text me later?”
He agrees.
“Now kiss me,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. My hands are already curling around his neck, missing the feel of his, the hardness of his muscles, the scent of him that lingers on his shirt. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, our tongues tangling, and when he pulls back to end the kiss, my mouth chases after his, wanting more.
He tells me he’ll text me later, and with a kiss goodbye, I walk to my car, crank it, and drive away.
I glance in the rear-view mirror and he’s still standing there, watching me.
