I want it from you
HOLDING THE PHONE TO MY EAR, I WRINKLE MY FOREHEAD TO try to make
sense of what Ryder is saying to me. “I’m sorry, what?” “Use me for sex,” he clarifies.
I cough loudly. A result of choking on air because I made the mistake of taking a breath right as he said that.
Use me for sex. That’s a joke.
He’s joking, right?
I strangle out another cough, drawing Diana’s attention. “Are you okay?
Who is it?”
“Yeah, fine,” I tell her, covering the mouthpiece. “Breathing is confusing sometimes.”
“Why are you so weird?” she sighs, and Mya snickers. “I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
Before they can question me further, I shoot to my feet and escape to my bedroom. Once the door is firmly closed, I refocus my attention on my phone.
“Did you seriously just ask me to use you for sex?” I blurt out. My heart thuds against my ribs, palms growing damp.
“Earlier you said you wanted to use Beckett for sex. I’m offering an alternative.”
As always, his deep voice carries a mocking note.
And yet I know he’s being serious right now. I highly doubt Ryder calls girls out of the blue and extends bogus dirty offers.
This is legit.
“That’s…not how this works,” I finally manage to croak out. “Just because I wanted to get laid last weekend doesn’t mean I’ll fuck just anyone. Beckett and I shared an organic moment. I didn’t go to the party planning to have sex with him.”
“So you don’t have an itch that needs scratching anymore?” “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then you do still require naked stress-busting.” On a raspy chuckle, he throws my own asinine descriptor back at me.
“All I’m saying is, just because I need…” “To get fucked,” he supplies.
My cheeks nearly burst into flames. I sit on the edge of my bed while my heart continues to hammer out a wild, frantic rhythm.
“…just because I need what I need,” I finish, “doesn’t mean I’m desperate.” I bristle to myself. “I’m not interested in pity sex.”
Husky laughter tickles my ear. “Gisele. Come on now.” “What?” I gulp. My throat feels tight now.
“You think I’m throwing you a pity fuck?” “You’re not?”
“No.” There’s a pause. “I need what I need too.” Another pause. “And I want it from you.”
My pussy clenches.
Hard.
His candor sends a dose of raw lust coursing through my blood. My knees are wobbling and I’m sitting down, for Pete’s sake.
I swallow again. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?” “Yes.”
“You want to sleep together.”
“Sleep, no. But I think we should fuck.”
Every inch of my body feels hot and tight. It’s been a while since I felt desire this potent. I don’t think it’s ever been this strong. Not with Case. Certainly not with Beckett last weekend.
“You said you needed release. Someone to help you with the stress. I can help. We already have a good arrangement going here,” he points out. “So why not sweeten the deal?”
“I…”
My brain is close to short-circuiting. I want to laugh this off, tell him it’s an interesting idea but probably not a smart one. But the words won’t come out. Instead, I say something very stupid.
“I’m not sure I’m even attracted to you.”
Then I almost burst out in waves of hysterical laughter because what the hell am I even saying right now? Someone hijacked my voice and is making it spew nonsense.
Of course I’m attracted to him.
Ryder goes quiet for a second. Then he says, “All right. Hold on.”
There’s more silence, save for some rustling noises on his end followed by the unmistakable click of a camera.
When my phone buzzes from the incoming message, I stop breathing entirely.
I’m expecting a dick pic.
I get something even better.
His bare chest, impossibly broad with more muscles than I knew existed. He’s cut like stone. Abs galore. He wears a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, his thumb hooked under one corner, pulling them down even lower to provide a suggestive view of his obliques. I notice a jagged white scar on his hip, about an inch long, and wonder how he got it. I wonder what that raised, puckered skin would feel like scraping beneath my fingertips. What I’d find if I slipped my fingers under his waistband.
My mouth waters. The longer I look at the picture, the wetter I get.
Everywhere. “Well?”
The trace of amusement in his voice tells me he knows he got me speechless.
“What, no dick pic?” I say, playing it cool. “I’ve actually never taken one of those.”
“Liar.”
“Never,” he insists.
“Why not?” I’m genuinely curious. I don’t think I’ve met a single guy my age who hasn’t sent someone a picture of his penis. Usually unsolicited. “Why do I need to?” He sounds almost bored by the question. Until his voice turns smoky. “I’d rather see the look in a woman’s eyes when she sees
it for the first time.”
“Why? Is it super spectacular?” “Say yes to my offer and find out.”
I rub my palm over my scorching face. “Look. Prom king. You’re hot,” I acknowledge. “You know you are. But a ripped chest doesn’t tell me if there’s chemistry between us, only that you’re nice to look at.”
“You’re trying to tell me we don’t have chemistry.” His soft chuckle makes my throat run dry.
“I don’t know. Maybe we don’t. We haven’t even kissed.” I don’t know why I’m fighting this so hard.
Well, I do know why.
Because the second I open this door, there’ll be no turning back. And that…scares me.
“I’m not going to agree to a sex deal with someone I haven’t even kissed,” I say when he doesn’t respond.
“Okay. If that’s how you feel.”
Then he ends the call, and the only thing I feel is disbelief. Did he seriously hang up on me?
I stare at my phone, which now displays my lock screen. He actually did.
Unless…maybe we got disconnected? I wait nearly a full minute for him to call back. But he doesn’t.
I’m in a daze when I return to the living room, where Diana and Mya are debating whether Fling or Forever is pure trash or pure genius.
Diana, obviously, is a proponent of Team Genius.
“You get to see young hot people have sex on camera while pretending to be there for the romantic dates. And then every week, a total stranger
shows up and breaks up a couple against their will, and now the new couple is fucking on camera and pretending to care about the dates. Are you truly telling me this isn’t the best show ever made?”
“It’s brain cell–killing garbage. You’ll never convince me otherwise, girl.”
Diana grins at my return. “What, is game night not doing it for you anymore?”
“Who was on the phone?” Mya asks curiously. “Luke Ryder.”
“Oooh, the enemy,” Diana says. “What did he want?”
I’m tempted to relate the entire conversation, word for word. But I’m barely able to make sense of it myself yet, let alone hash it out with my friends.
“Just hammering out our practice schedule,” I lie, taking my seat on the couch again. I reach for my Scrabble letters.
“That’s still going on?” Diana doesn’t sound as interested now that it’s about hockey.
“Yup. I’m learning a lot from him.”
We resume our game, but my head’s not in it. Even after fifteen minutes pass, I’m still internally marveling over what happened.
Honestly, the sheer audacity of this man. He tells me to use him for sex, and then when I dare to think it over, he’s like, Cool, forget it?
Who does that?
“Beety is not a word!” Mya screeches in outrage when Diana tries adding a Y to board.
“Sure it is.”
“Use it in a fucking sentence.”
“I don’t like this salad because of all the beets. It’s too beety.” “G, back me up here,” pleads Mya.
I glance up from my tray. “I’m vetoing beety.” “Traitor,” Diana complains.
I’m about to put down my next word when my phone buzzes again. A text this time.
RYDER:
I’m downstairs.
My heart stops. Just quits beating altogether in my chest.
A shivery sensation whispers through me. I don’t know if it’s adrenaline or anticipation, but I feel weak and dizzy as I abruptly shoot to my feet.
My friends look up, startled.
“I need to go downstairs,” I blurt out. They both stare at me.
“I, ah, ordered food.”
I haphazardly wave my phone around as if to show them a notification from a food delivery app, except I purposely keep the screen away from their eyes. I also don’t have a plan for how I’m going to explain why I don’t have food upon my return. But nobody ever said I was quick under pressure. Off the ice, anyway.
“We had dinner, like, two hours ago,” Mya says in confusion, but I’m already slipping into a pair of sneakers and heading for the door.
In the small lobby, I greet the security woman at the front desk, whose wary gaze is fixed on the vertical pane of glass next to the door. Beyond the window is Ryder.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “I know him.”
Although I don’t blame her for being suspicious of the six-footfive man in the black hoodie lurking outside the dorm.
Outside, the night air is cooler than I expect. It’s almost October, though. Soon the weather will turn completely, and going outside in yoga pants and an oversized tee won’t even be an option. Then I’ll be longing for this barely-there chill that’s puckering my nipples.
Or maybe that’s Ryder’s doing.
“Why are you here?” I grumble, pulling him away from the door.
We move to the edge of the path, where he shoves his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and gazes down at me through heavy eyelids.
“I came to kiss you.”
My mouth falls open. I stare at him for a moment.
“You…drove all the way here to kiss me.” “Yes.”
“I… You…” I’m at a genuine loss for words.
Ryder shrugs. “You won’t fuck someone you haven’t kissed. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I…” I honestly can’t think straight enough to speak.
“So.” Those mesmerizing blue eyes focus on my face “Are you going to let me kiss you, Gigi?”
My pulse speeds up when it registers that he called me Gigi. Not Gisele. But my actual name. Because right now, in this moment, he’s not mocking me. He’s not playing games. He’s being sincere.
He moves closer, slipping his hands out of his pockets. His big frame encroaches on my personal space, the spicy scent of him grabbing hold of my senses. I suck in a breath and then regret it because he always smells so good and it’s distracting.
“Yes or no,” he says softly.
I lick my bottom lip and meet his eyes. Then I say, “Yes.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I reach up to slide my fingers through his hair and tug his head down.
Our mouths meet in the lightest of caresses. Just a taste. A tease. But our lips feel so right against each other that I can’t stop myself from driving the kiss deeper. Ryder spits out a growled curse before his tongue slides through my parted lips and sends an electric current through my body.
I press myself up against him, arms looped around his neck to pull him down as low as he can go with his height. Desperate to explore his mouth. His lips are equally hungry, but not overpowering. The way his tongue touches mine is almost unbearable. I want more of it. And more of his hands, but he’s not letting them wander. One rests lightly on my hip, the other cups the side of my face, his thumb absently stroking my jaw as he kisses me as if he has all the time in the world.
“Mmmm.” His husky groan tickles my lips, and then the hand on my waist suddenly moves. He slides it around to squeeze my ass and bring me
flush up against him so I can feel his erection.
When I whimper in response, he pulls back to reveal his slight grin.
Mocking as usual.
“Did I pass the test?”
My breathing comes out in labored pants. My mind is spinning.
“I…” I drop my hands from his shoulders and take a step back. “I don’t think I’m good at casual sex.” I press my hands against my sides to stop them from grabbing him. I’m already craving his kiss again. “That’s what you’re looking for, right?”
“Yes.”
Reluctance renders me with indecision. I don’t know why I can’t pull this trigger and simply tell him I want him.
When my hesitation drags on, Ryder runs his fingers through his hair to smooth it out. I messed up those dark strands pretty bad when I had my hands all over him.
“All right.” He finally shrugs and flicks up his eyebrows. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
