Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
HARLEY
I flopped onto the bed with a contented sigh while Ryker closed the bedroom door.
His family had finally released us after what felt like hours of enthusiastic interrogation about our relationship.
Dinner and hanging out afterward had gone even better than I’d hoped.
They had practically devoured every morsel of our fake romance.
But something was off. Ryker perched on the edge of the bed like a brooding gargoyle, his shoulders hunched and his gaze fixated on the carpet as if it held the secrets of the universe.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone better,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows. “Your mom is completely sold and already planning our wedding. Did you see how she kept looking at us? I half expected her to ask what our first dance song would be.”
Ryker gave a noncommittal grunt, his fingers picking at a loose thread on his shirt.
I studied his profile, noting the tense set of his jaw and his stubborn refusal to meet my eyes. It wasn’t just post-family interaction fatigue. No, it was a full-blown, five-alarm pout.
“Okay, what’s wrong? You’ve been quieter than a mime in a library since dinner,” I asked, sliding over to join him on the bed.
His sigh sounded weary. “I feel like shit for lying to them.”
“About us, you mean?”
“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that made me want to smooth it back into place. “They’re so happy for me—for us. My mom kept patting my hand like she was thanking me for finally giving her what she wanted.”
“It’s not entirely a lie. We genuinely care about each other.”
His eyes met mine, troubled and uncertain. “Yeah, but not romantically,” he protested, and then a flush crept up his neck as he held my gaze. “At least on my end.”
My heart, that traitorous organ, did a full-on salsa routine in my ribs. There was something about the way he said it, as if he wasn’t sure of his own words, that lit a dangerous flicker of hope inside me.
“You know, sometimes the line between friendship and romance is thinner than we think. The best relationships grow from people who genuinely enjoy each other’s company, who make each other laugh, who feel safe together. We already have all that. The rest is just details.”
“How is it that a self-proclaimed fuckboy like you has mastered the art of romance?”
I grinned, relieved to see a glimmer of his usual spark returning. “You bring it out in me, snookums.”
He rolled his eyes at the nickname, but I caught the hint of a smile he tried to suppress. Then his expression turned once more.
“I’m worried about hurting your feelings,” he admitted. “You’ve been into me for years, and here I am, asking you to pretend to be with me when I’m not sure if I can ever give you what you want for real.”
His brutal honesty caught me off guard. For all my flirting and teasing, I hadn’t expected him to be concerned about my feelings in our little charade.
I took his hand, interlacing our fingers together. “It’s enough for me to know you genuinely care about me, whatever form that takes.”
“Of course I care about you,” Ryker said, squeezing my hand. “I’m just not sure if that means romantically or not.”
“Maybe you should find your answers, then.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I stood up and started on my shirt, my fingers unfastening each button as if it were a tiny, tantalizing secret I was revealing just for him.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, glancing nervously at the locked door as if expecting his entire family to burst in at any second.
“Getting ready for bed,” I replied innocently, maintaining eye contact as I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders. It slid down my arms before I let it drop to the floor. My hands moved to my belt next, unbuckling it with a soft metallic clink that echoed in the quiet room like a gunshot.
The flush on Ryker’s cheeks deepened as I continued my striptease, pushing my pants down my legs and stepping out of them. My briefs followed, leaving me completely naked, standing before him with all the confidence of a runway model.
I turned on his side lamp before walking over to flick off the overhead lights. The room transformed into a warm, golden glow that softened everything. I slid under the covers on his bed, patting the space beside me with a challenging smile.
“Come on. I promise I won’t bite.”
Ryker hesitated. “This is ridiculous,” he complained, but his hands moved to the hem of his shirt anyway. He pulled it over his head, his movements jerky with nervousness.
I watched his self-conscious show with amusement. Unlike me, he turned away to remove his pants and underwear, as if a minor angle shift would preserve his modesty. The lamplight highlighted the lean lines of his body, accentuating the muscle definition beneath his skin.
When he finally climbed into bed, I guided him to straddle me, my hands gentle on his hips. The weight of him settling on my thighs sent a delightful shiver through me.
“Now what?” Ryker asked, his voice a note higher than usual. His hands hovered awkwardly above my chest, not quite touching.
“Whatever you want,” I replied, leaning back and lacing my fingers behind my head. The pose was pure, unadulterated invitation. The stage is yours, snookums. Don’t get performance anxiety now.
He stared at me, his expression a mix of curiosity and hesitation. His gray eyes searched my face as if looking for some hidden agenda.
“I’m offering you the chance to explore,” I clarified. “To get your answers.”
“Like this?” His fingertips ghosted over my bare chest.
I nodded, keeping my breathing steady despite the thrill of his touch. “Yes.”
Encouraged, Ryker took his time exploring down to my abs, his touches gaining confidence with each passing minute. He traced the contours of my muscles, mapping out the planes and valleys of my torso with a focus that was almost scientific in its intensity.
His teasing caresses stirred my arousal, making it impossible to hide my growing erection beneath him. I watched his face carefully, noting the moment he noticed my body’s enthusiastic response.
Ryker shifted uncomfortably as he felt me hardening beneath him, his thighs tensing around mine.
“Ignore that,” I told him, keeping my voice calm. “It’s an involuntary reaction to having a hot guy on top of me.”
He glanced down between us, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. “Kind of hard to do that when it’s poking me.”
“That’s what all the boys say.”
Ryker scowled. “Your ego is almost as big as your—” He cut himself off, the blush spreading to his ears.
“Go ahead, say it,” I encouraged, my hands settling on his hips. “My ego is almost as big as my dick. It’s okay to acknowledge what’s literally pressing against you right now.”
“I was going to say, ‘Your head,’ but thanks for proving my point.” Despite his sarcasm, he didn’t budge.
I smirked at him. “There’s more than one reason you call me a dickhead sometimes.”
That earned me a reluctant laugh. “You’re awful.”
“Yet you’re still sitting on top of my throbbing erection,” I pointed out. “Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Take it as me being frozen in shock at the sheer audacity of your anatomy.” He shifted again, which added to the thrill.
“It’s like trying to ignore an elephant in the room, except the elephant is in your pants.
But you’re not wearing pants. Ugh, I don’t know!
I can’t think with that beast pressing against me. ”
“I won’t apologize for being impressively endowed.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “How am I supposed to explore anything when your…distraction…is confusing my last two functioning brain cells?”
I raised an eyebrow. “So you admit you want to explore?”
“I didn’t say that.” His protest lacked conviction as his gaze dropped to my lips.
“Your thighs clamped around mine imply otherwise. And speaking of things that are hard to ignore…” I nodded toward his own growing arousal.
He glanced down and groaned. “This is all your fault.”
“I’ll gladly take the blame. In fact, I’ll take full responsibility for all erections when we’re in bed together.”
“How generous of you,” he said dryly.
I grinned up at him. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”
“And apparently a grower.”
“Oh, snookums, you have no clue. Want to find out how much?”
He shot me a withering look. “I can feel it happening in real time, so I think I’m getting the picture just fine from here, thanks.”
“That’s just the preview. The feature presentation is much more impressive.”
He snorted in amusement. “Do you have a permit for that thing? It seems dangerous.”
“No, but I have excellent control. Years of practice.”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Ryker asked, but he made no move to get off me.
“I was aiming for enticing,” I replied, my voice dropping lower. “Is it working?”
He bit his lip, considering. “I’m still sitting here, aren’t I?”
“Perched on top of what you affectionately dubbed an elephant, no less. Very brave of you.”
“I’m starting to think bravery has nothing to do with it,” he muttered, almost to himself.
I gave in to the temptation to push a little further. “What is it about, then?”
Instead of answering, he shifted his weight, deliberately pressing against my erection. The perfect friction made me groan. If that was Ryker’s idea of “pretending,” I couldn’t wait to see what happened when he fully committed to something.
“Curiosity,” he declared, studying my reaction with fascination. “Definitely curiosity.”
“Then keep going without worrying about it. This is about you figuring things out, not me getting off.”
The tension in his shoulders relaxed at my encouragement. With newfound confidence, Ryker grew bolder, brushing his lips against my neck. He trailed soft kisses down my chest that sent delightful tingles through me.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured against my skin.
I ran my fingers through his hair, finally allowing myself to touch him. “Understand what?”