Chapter 14 - Faith
FAITH
Six Weeks Ago
“I told you we shouldn’t do this.” My voice came out hot, desperate, nothing like the firm rejection I’d practiced. “The elevator was supposed to be the one and only time.”
“I barely got to touch you then.” Ryker’s voice carried an edge that sent heat spiraling through me. I could tell he’d been replaying that moment in the elevator ever since it happened, torturing himself with what could have happened if we’d stayed trapped just a little longer.
Little did he know, I did the exact same thing.
I just couldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t admit it.
Life was already complicated enough. While I was working desperately to put the old Faith in the past and build someone new, the last thing I should be doing was having a fling with my brother’s best friend.
Because that’s what this was becoming. A fling. Right?
Couldn’t be more than that.
The fact that my brain constantly searched for excuses to be alone with Ryker was just a symptom of a fling. The fact that I hung on every word he said, adored that charming smirk he gave whenever I said something sharp … all just symptoms of a fling.
And okay, fine. Even I could admit that staring at the ceiling at three in the morning, wondering about his past, wondering if he might be the type of person who could accept me …
that bordered on more than a fling. Those late nights when I’d googled him, reading about his cases.
The pro bono work he did for people who couldn’t afford representation.
That was definitely more than fling territory.
But it was hard to keep those boundaries.
To me, Ryker seemed like the anchor of the group.
Anytime anyone was in trouble, he was there to help.
Like when Blake got into legal trouble after Tessa’s assailant ended up dead.
And, no, I absolutely did not ask about any of that.
But Ryker was right there for my brother.
And when Dakota and Axel received threats, Ryker had been there, leading the charge.
Going above and beyond to protect them and keep them safe.
When Dakota had been attacked, Ryker even called in favors to have police show up at their penthouse instead of her having to go all the way downtown to the station.
These simple gestures that he constantly did for his friends, for the people he cared about, made it seriously hard to stay in fling territory.
It was like my heart had become the prosecutor, laying out its evidence that I was falling for him.
Every thoughtful action presented as Exhibit A, B, C.
My brain played defense, desperately trying to poke holes in the prosecution’s theories.
But the evidence kept mounting. The way he’d tell me legal jokes that were so terrible that they made me laugh.
The way his eyes found mine first whenever he walked into a room.
“We should stop.” That part was definitely my brain talking. My heart wanted me to beg him to put his hands on me. “Dakota will be back any minute.”
Honest to criminy, if this started happening every time we found ourselves alone in Axel’s penthouse, I’d …
Oh, who was I kidding? I would probably pitch a tent in his living room just for the possibility.
“I cannot stop thinking about you.” Ryker’s voice was rough.
“We need to find a way.”
“So, you feel it too then.”
“It’s just chemistry.”
Ryker pulled back, gave me that smirk that made my insides melt. “Is that all this is?”
My cheeks heated, and his gaze snapped right to them, tracking the blush as it spread. His smirk widened into a knowing smile that said he could read every thought racing through my head.
“It’s all it can be,” I managed, but even I heard how weak it sounded.
“So, you do feel something more.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but it was too late. I’d been completely busted. My face had already confessed everything my mouth wouldn’t say.
“I rest my case.” Ryker’s lips found mine before I could come back with a witty retort.
And then his hands started their exploration. They trailed down my neck with devastating slowness, along my collarbone, like he was memorizing the shape of me. Down my ribs, counting each one. When they tugged at the hem of my shirt, I forgot how to breathe.
I loved that he trailed his fingers slowly up beneath the fabric, giving me time to push them away if I wanted to.
But I didn’t want to. He kept kissing me along my jaw, down my neck, as his fingers inched upward with maddening patience.
I loved the moan that escaped him when he finally cupped my breast through my bra.
The sound was pure want, pure appreciation.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said against my throat. “No other woman has ever had the hold on me that you do.”
Maybe giving in would be a good thing. All that tension would finally go away. Right? It was as good of an argument as any my lust-fogged brain could manufacture.
So, I didn’t stop him when he breached the fabric of my bra and found sensitive skin. In fact, I groaned. Loud. Too loud.
I needed to be careful. In theory, we still had time before Dakota returned with takeout food (was it just me, or did she “have” to go get it herself on purpose, to leave us alone?), but I didn’t trust myself not to lose track of time.
Not when Ryker was touching me like this, like I was something precious and desired, all at once.
Ryker pressed me against the wall, his obvious desire hard against my thigh. The length of him made my mouth water.
“You know what I’ve imagined doing to you?” He squeezed my breast.
“Tell me.” My voice didn’t sound like mine anymore.
He slipped his fingers lower, teasing the hem of my jeans. Thank you, wardrobe gods, that I’d picked my loose-fitting jeans today. So much easier to accommodate wandering hands.
“Burying my tongue inside of you.” His words were hot against my ear.
Holy shit.
“Having you sit on my face.”
His palm pressed flat against my stomach, his fingers sliding down, breaching the hem of my panties.
“Watching you as you ride my mouth until you come.”
His fingertip slipped through my folds, and he groaned.
“Already wet for me.” His voice held masculine satisfaction that made me clench.
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.
“Tell me what you’ve imagined,” he growled. Knowing full well I had imagined plenty. It was sexy that he had the confidence to know it. Sexier that he wanted to hear it. That he needed to know he affected me the same way.
“I’ve thought about burying you in my throat,” I admitted weakly, the confession pulled from somewhere deep.
Ryker growled and buried his lips back against my neck, sucking at the spot where my pulse hammered.
He slipped his fingers through my folds once more, coating himself in my arousal, before moving to that bundle of nerves that made me gasp.
And then he started swirling.
I grabbed his shoulders with a gasp as he began to work his magic. Circling. Pressing. Flicking. Like he’d studied the owner’s manual to my body and memorized every single instruction. All the while, his lips warmed the skin of my neck, my jaw, the sensitive spot behind my ear.
Suddenly, he pulled back and looked me right in the eyes. His gaze was intense, dark with promise.
“I’ve imagined burying myself so deep inside of you, you’ll see stars.” He pushed two fingers inside of me without warning, his lips ghosting into a satisfied smile as my jaw fell open and my head fell back against the wall with a soft thud.
“Ryker …”
A coil grew in my lower core, winding tighter and tighter as he pumped his fingers in and out with devastating rhythm.
His thumb circled that sensitive bundle of nerves with perfect pressure.
All the while, Ryker read my face like I was his favorite book, watching my lips part as I’d groan, cataloging what made me gasp, what made me clutch him tighter.
“You like that, Warrior?” he asked, his voice rough with his own need.
I nodded, licking my lips.
“Imagine it’s not my fingers inside of you,” he growled, increasing his pace. “Imagine I’m pounding you. Hard and fast. And you’re taking every inch of me.”
I closed my eyes and imagined it. Needed it. Wanted it with a desperation that should have scared me.
Maybe a fling was a very good idea actually. Maybe it was exactly what we both needed.
My thighs began to tremble, that telltale sign that I was close.
“Open your eyes,” Ryker commanded.
I obeyed instantly.
“Good girl. Now keep those eyes on me while you come.”
And I did. I shattered all over his hand, my release crashing through me in waves.
His lips curled in satisfied passion, pleased with the orgasm that was consuming me.
Through it all, he continued his rhythm, coaxing every last ripple out of me, drawing out my pleasure until I was gasping, limp against the wall.
When he was done, he slowly pulled his fingers out. My core ached at the absence, already missing him, and my mouth watered when he drew those fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time.
“You’re beautiful when you come, Warrior.”
Holy crap. I’d never had a man care about my release before. The men I’d dated took what they wanted and left. And that was fine. I gave it willingly. My choice. Always my choice.
But I didn’t know there could be more. Didn’t know that a man like Ryker would selflessly make me come apart while he was left with a raging hard-on with nowhere to put it. After all, we didn’t have enough time to take this to the next level.
Did we?
As if on cue, the elevator began to hum its warning that someone was on their way up here, and the mechanical sound cut through our haze like a bucket of cold water.
I couldn’t resist. I blame temporary insanity for what I did next. Pressing my palm against his raging bulge, feeling the impressive length of him strain against his jeans, I whispered, “I wish you’d buried yourself in me.”
Maybe if he had, it would have scratched the itch. And I could stop fantasizing every single moment about Ryker touching me again. Stop wondering what those hands could do with more time, more privacy.
He groaned, pressed his hardness more firmly into my hand, his hips rocking slightly. “Come home with me.”
Like a record scratch, his words burst the fantasy I’d been floating in.
Sex was one thing. Maybe that’s all he meant.
But I got the impression he meant so much more.
That I’d go there, and we’d have sex, and then we’d what?
Spend the night together? Wake up tangled?
Have breakfast? Share coffee and conversation?
Breakfast would lead to a dinner invite, which would mean we’d be dating, and was I really ready for that?
I felt like I’d just gotten my footing in life. After everything I’d been through, everything I was building, I couldn’t afford to let myself get distracted or sucked into something that would fail like every other relationship I’d tried.
Because that’s what would happen. This would fail. He’d ask me questions about my past, and—bam—he’d be gone, leaving me more broken than before.
“I can’t.” I pushed him back, giving myself space to think.
He stared at me, his eyes searching mine. “You want this.”
I did. That was the whole problem.
Still, I convinced myself I could control this desire, but two weeks later, I’d be lying naked in a bridal suite with Ryker’s tongue buried between my thighs. A night when everything would change …