Chapter 23 – ryan
RYAN
“Can you drive any faster?”
I frown at Pippa over in the passenger seat. “You’re kidding. I thought you’d be begging me to slow down.”
“I have to get home to check on Waffle before I go into the office,” she says. “I’m worried I won’t have time.”
“Waffle’s fine. Cat’s been keeping an eye on her.”
“Unless she got busy with work or Nate and forgot,” Pippa points out.
I shake my head. “Cat wouldn’t forget. She’s probably spoiling Waffle with fresh fish and mountains of catnip. I bet your hellcat is probably in such feline heaven, she doesn’t even want you to come home.”
“You’re probably right,” Pippa says, sighing. “I know it’s irrational, but I haven't left Waffle home by herself for more than a day since I got her. Plus she’s in a new apartment. Maybe she trapped herself in a room, or her automatic feeder stopped working.”
Pippa’s manicured fingers tap the armrest, an outlet for her nervous energy. If I weren’t driving, I’d grab that hand and put each finger in my mouth to suck on them until her worry was replaced by horniness.
Since I can’t do that without crashing the car, I’ll have to find another way to help.
“Look, how about I drop you off at the office, then I’ll check on Waffle for you?” I offer. “I’ll even send you a proof of life picture with today’s newspaper.”
“You would?” She shoots me a grateful smile.
“Sure. I owe you a favor, after what you let me do last night.”
Pippa’s cheeks turn pink, and I know she’s remembering it all, just like I am.
In the early hours of the morning, I snuck back into Pippa’s bedroom.
I just needed another taste of her. It was hot as hell, slipping into her bed while she was still asleep and spooning with her.
When she woke up and realized I was there, Pippa was just as ravenous for me as I was for her.
She moaned and wriggled her sweet little body against me while I caressed her breasts and dipped my fingers between her legs.
She had to clutch her pillow over her face to muffle her moans when she came.
Then I held my hand over her mouth when I snugglefucked the shit out of her, thrusting in from behind until her headboard banged against the wall.
Pippa froze, scared that somebody heard us, while I kept fucking her through it.
The mixture of fear and arousal made her come so hard on my cock, it felt like a fucking vice.
Maybe the hottest part was this morning during breakfast with our parents there.
I watched prim little princess Pippa eat her eggs and toast so politely, chatting politely with Dad and Emily like she didn’t have my cum still staining her panties.
I love that under all her fancy outfits and professional aspirations, she’s a secret dirty girl.
If I had my way, we’d head back to bed the second we got home. The black leggings she’s wearing are sexy as hell, and I know how much fun I’d have slowly rolling them down her legs. If it weren’t for Pippa’s stupid job and stupid editor.
“I don’t know why you’re going into the office the day after Christmas,” I grumble. “I bet you’ll be the only person there.”
She sighs. “I know, but I have to go. Ingrid said she needed me.”
“To do what? File her papers and paint her toenails?”
“Maybe. I’ve been doing my own nails for years, and I’m pretty good at it.”
“What about me? I have a few things I need you for today.” I reach over, running my fingers lightly up the back of her neck. Pippa’s breath catches just before she leans into the touch. Fuck, she can be sweet when she wants to be.
“Didn’t you get enough last night?” There’s no bite in the words.
“Not even fucking close.”
Pippa takes a long deep breath. “So we’re not going to stop, then.”
“I don’t want to.” No, I want to spend every hour between now and New Year’s with my face between her thighs.
I want to fuck her while she wears every sexy-ass pair of heels in her closet.
I want to make her angry so I can hold her down and force her to come while she’s fighting and cursing and furious.
Damn, it might take me weeks to exhaust my ideas for us.
“I don’t want to stop, either,” she says. “Work has been so crazy, and losing my apartment sucked. It’s like we’re doing some kind of stress relief experiment. Anxiety reduction through orgasms.”
All my eagerness drains away, and an icy heaviness fills my chest. Pippa might be joking, but talking about me like I’m just a human vibrator doesn’t sit right with me.
I mean, it’s not like I’m dreaming about taking her out to dinner and hot air balloon rides and girlfriend stuff. I know that’s not what this is.
But being reduced to an orgasm supplier makes me feel like I’m nothing. Like it could be anyone making her eyes roll back in her head.
No. That was me.
I swallow down the feeling of resentment. It’s not worth saying anything—it’s not like Pippa would even care. I’m not about to ruin some of the best sex of my life by getting all into my feelings, so I’ll play along.
“Right,” I say, shrugging. “It’s just sex, and it just so happens we have great sexual chemistry.”
“Exactly. It would be a shame to waste it. It doesn’t have to mean anything else. I mean, it couldn’t, right?”
“Right. It would be…”
“Inappropriate?” Pippa suggests.
“Right.”
We’re both quiet for a moment. I know the truth—even if I weren’t her stepbrother, even if I was an option for her, Pippa would never choose me. I’m not the kind of guy girls see forever with.
“So it doesn’t matter if I keep dating?” she asks, glancing over at me from under her eyelashes.
The question feels like a challenge. Is she trying to trick me into being territorial? Is this like the stunt she pulled during the poker game, where she draws me into saying something she can hold against me? Either way, I know there’s only one right answer.
“I don’t care, as long as we set some ground rules,” I say lightly.
She rolls her eyes. “Great. More rules.”
“I don’t wanna be fucking you if you’re fucking someone else, too. I’m not getting chlamydia just because you have shitty taste in men.”
“Since when do you care about STDs? You’ve never been picky about who you’ve stuck your dick in before.”
“I’ve never slept with a woman without a condom.”
She sticks out her tongue. “Liar. You’ve done it three times with me already.”
“You’re the exception, Pips. I know you’re not sleeping with a million other guys, and I know you have an IUD. I trust you.”
“Oh.” She looks genuinely surprised by that, which is weird, because I’d think it would be fucking obvious.
I clear my throat. “If anything starts to get serious or sexual with any of the guys you date, then you can just let me know and we’ll stop.”
Pippa nods, but I can tell by her careful tone that there’s something she isn’t saying. “Okay. If I find someone I like, we stop.”
“Easy.”
“Easy.”
Then why does it sound like the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do?