Chapter 22 – pippa
PIPPA
“What’s gotten into your stepbrother?” Aunt Paige says. Her lips are pursed like she just bit into a sour lemon. “Talking to his father like that.”
“I have no idea,” Jack says. He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear away a dream.
Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. “His cursing might have been a bit much, but he made a lot of good points. We’re very proud of you, sweetheart, and all the work you do.”
I’m still too shocked for her kind words to penetrate.
Did Ryan really just mount a full-scale defense of me to our whole family?
He hasn’t said anything nice about me since…
well, never, that I can remember. And some of the things he said—he couldn’t have known how my articles on Belladonna were ranking unless he read them.
Since when did he actually take an interest in my work beyond making fun of my headlines?
Uncle Tommy coughs, and I realize that everyone in the room is still looking to me for an answer.
I laugh tightly. “Ryan lost a big poker tournament last week. He’s been off since then.”
Jack nods. For my stepfather, anything that’s wrong with Ryan can be explained by poker.
“Can I get anyone a refill on their drinks?” Mom asks.
After a few minutes, the conversation moves on to landscaping—Aunt Paige loathes her gardeners, and Aunt Melissa wants to sleep with hers—while I mull over what just happened.
Ryan took a risk defending me like that.
Our parents might wonder what got him acting so defensive, considering that he’s usually the one attacking me.
Mom is too perceptive. I can’t shake the feeling that if she really looked at me, she’d see the truth all over my face. How barely a week ago, Ryan had me bent over a table, screaming his name.
That doesn’t stop me from being grateful. My self-esteem has been taking a beating with all those terrible dates. Even if it was Ryan, it was nice to have someone actually stand up for me.
“I’ll be right back” I say, pushing to my feet. “I have to go talk to Ryan. He set up this thing where I can check on my cat with a camera at the apartment, but I can’t get it to work.”
I shake my phone as proof and hope the excuse holds up. I need to talk to him.
“Okay, sweetie,” Mom says.
She joins back in on the conversation, leaving me to go upstairs to Ryan’s room. For once, I’m grateful that Mom and Jack’s place is so big that I can’t hear them at all once I hit the hallway where our childhood bedrooms are.
I knock lightly on the door, but he doesn’t answer. I do it again, a little louder. Either he’s ignoring me, or he’s got his headphones on while he plays online poker. Knowing him, they’re both equally likely. With a sigh, I shove open the door to his room.
But Ryan isn’t at his desk or on his bed, he’s walking out of his adjoining bathroom with a cloud of steam billowing behind him. He’s completely naked, his smooth skin still wet and shining from the shower while he rubs his wet hair with a white towel.
His eyes meet mine, and the towel slips from his hand.
“Uh…”
I didn’t think he was actually going to take a shower. I thought it was an excuse to get away from the family before he said anything else to implicate us, but…
My grip tightens on the door handle.
I know I should look away, or maybe apologize for barging in, or, I don’t know, fucking leave? I should do anything other than stare at him the way I know I’m staring at him.
Ryan stares right back at me, his chest heaving with each breath. My eyes flick down to trace the muscles that I was just touching a few days ago. The air between us feels charged, like one wrong move or word would set us both off.
“What are you doing here, Pippa?” he says, his voice low and rough.
“What you said back there…” I trail off, not sure what I want to say to him anymore.
He sets his jaw and I watch as the muscles in his forearms flex as he clenches his fists and casts his gaze to the floor.
“I meant every word.”
My shaky intake of breath at his admission makes him snap his focus back to me, and the way his heated gaze falls to my mouth, I…
I twist the handle and shut the door without a sound, the click of the lock engaging as I push it sounds like a gunshot in the silence.
“Are you sure about this?” Ryan says, his voice low.
I bite my lip and nod. “Yeah. I think I am.”
I don’t know who moves first, but in a second I’m in Ryan’s arms with his mouth on mine.
Our lips move hungrily against each other’s, frantically, like we’re trying to soak up every second before someone stops us.
He smells like the same body wash he wore in high school, and for some reason, that sends a jolt of molten heat through me.
“You look so fucking good, Pips,” Ryan growls as his hands run up and down my sides. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.”
The words make my heart thud—both because I love hearing the praise, and because I’m scared he said them too loud. There could be a knock on the door at any second—eventually, they’re going to wonder where we are.
Ryan pulls me back and we both tumble onto his twin bed.
Suddenly, I’m back in high school, living out the illicit hook-ups I was too nerdy to actually have.
Ryan presses a leg between mine, giving me a chance to grind against his muscular thigh while he presses hot, wet kisses against my neck.
It feels so fucking good, but my nerves can’t stop screaming that we’re going to get caught.
I keep glancing over at the door until Ryan finally takes my jaw in his hand.
“Hey,” he says. “Eyes on me.”
“What if someone hears?” I murmur.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about right now?” He drags his teeth over my earlobe, making the little hairs on my neck stand up. “You can worry about it later, once I’m making you come.”
Blood rushes to my face as reality clicks into place. I’m really underneath my naked stepbrother while my Mom drinks Christmas cocktails with our family. This is beyond wrong, even though there’s not a cell in my body that wants to stop it.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper against Ryan’s lips between kisses.
He hums in affirmation. “No, we shouldn’t, but I’m a selfish prick.” He pulls my shirt up and over my head, kneading my breasts through my lace bra. As I reach down to grab my shoes, he stops me.
“Hey. Take it all off, but leave the shoes on. The shoes and the hat.”
“Seriously?”
“You heard me, Pippa.”
His dark brown eyes are dead serious, so even though it makes me feel ridiculous, I follow instructions.
Once I’m mostly naked, Ryan’s eyes rake over me. He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes, and I know that he’s trying to keep himself from coming already. All from the sight of me in red heels and a Santa hat. It’s enough to make me breathless.
“Better than I even imagined,” he mutters. “Now, you better stay quiet for this, or you’re going to be in trouble.”
He crawls down the bed, stopping to suck on my breasts and kiss down the center of my stomach. His mouth is hot and sensuous, and molten heat spreads from my core.
“The first time we did this,” Ryan murmurs, “I skipped this part. That was a fuck-up, but don’t worry.” He kisses the inside of my thigh, first with just a featherlight touch from his lips, then with a small nip of his teeth. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
His tongue moves over my sex in a long, torturous stroke. My hips jolt up toward his mouth, and a moan spills out from my lips. Ryan pinches my ass and glares up at me.
“Are you going to be quiet for me, Pippa?”
I bite my lip and nod. His lips curve into a satisfied smile, and he pulls my thighs over his shoulders as he settles down to feast on me.
He’s not careful or sophisticated—he’s feral, lapping at me like he’ll die if he can’t get enough of me.
Every stroke of his tongue stokes the fire in my core until I’m overwhelmed by the heat.
All I can do is clench my fingers in Ryan’s hair and do my best to hold onto my sanity.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My hips buck with every lick, until Ryan has to put his hand on my stomach to hold me down to the bed. Sweat prickles on my skin as I try hard—so goddamn hard—to stay still and quiet for this.
It’s hard as hell, with Ryan looking devilishly up at me from between my legs.
My entire body shakes from the effort of holding back my moans.
When Ryan spears his tongue inside me, I have to bite my fist to keep from screaming.
The orgasm spirals up, shockingly fast. Up and up, the pleasure coils until I’m hovering at the edge, terrified to fall.
Because I might just scream, and then we’ll definitely have to deal with someone bursting through the door.
Ryan knows it, too. I can tell by the way he smiles against my pussy—even if it means that he’s caught, too, some part of him is excited by the idea of me getting in trouble.
He lets go of my thigh and presses his finger inside me. That’s all it takes for me to finally come.
The orgasm savages through my body like a wildfire. Every cell in my body lights up with white-hot heat as the pleasure explodes through me. Only Ryan’s hand on my stomach keeps me from bucking off the bed.
As the aftershocks ripple through me, I realize there are tears streaming down my face. I can’t tell if it’s because the orgasm unlocked something inside me, or just because it was that hard not to cry out.
Ryan crawls up my body until he’s gazing down at me, his mouth glistening with my juices. “Fuck. For someone with the rudest mouth, your pussy is the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”
He kisses me before I can answer, and I taste myself on his tongue. It’s tangy and musky, and somehow it feels more intimate than anything else we’ve done yet.
He tears his lips away from mine, then covers my mouth with his hand. “I need to fuck you now, Pippa. I can’t stand waiting any longer.”