Chapter 8 #2
Ryker ran his hands over my flat chest, his cheeks aflame. “Why I’m not missing boobs.”
I laughed hard enough to jostle him where he sat on top of me.
He swatted at me, indignation replacing his embarrassment. “What? I’m being serious!”
I stifled my laughter, reaching up to cup his face between my palms. “Maybe because you’re interested in me as a person, rather than caring about my anatomy.”
Ryker rocked against my arousal, sending a rush of pleasure through me. “It’s hard to forget about them.”
“Keep exploring,” I urged. I dropped my hands back to the mattress, granting him free rein once more.
He took his sweet time kissing and caressing my chest before finding my nipples. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he traced lazy circles around them with his thumbs, then toyed with one using his tongue.
I inhaled sharply as he applied more pressure. The unexpected intensity of pleasure made me bite my lip to stifle a moan.
Ryker’s eyes widened, his hands mid-motion. “You enjoy that? But you’re not a woman.”
I didn’t smother my laugh at his adorable bewilderment. “Different equipment, same nerve endings,” I explained with a playful smirk. “The human body is universal in some ways. Haven’t you ever had a girlfriend who played with your nipples?”
“Not really.” He glanced down at his own chest, then back at mine.
“Aw, poor baby. Straight guys have it so hard,” I teased. “But trust me, it feels good regardless of gender. I can give you a hands-on tutorial later if you’re feeling adventurous.”
Ryker resumed his exploration with renewed interest. He circled my nipples again, this time with more pressure, watching my reactions with fascination before he leaned down to put his mouth to work.
“Oh,” I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair. “That’s—yeah, keep doing that.”
As Ryker continued, his erection pressed against my thigh, hot and insistent.
With each gasp he coaxed from me, his hesitation melted away. The tentative brushes of his fingertips transformed into satisfying strokes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Mmm, what gave it away?” I teased, rocking my obvious arousal against his.
His eyes followed mine, and he swallowed hard. “I’m doing that to you.”
“You are. You have no idea how much I want you.”
Something shifted in his expression. A realization, perhaps, of the power he held in this moment. He straightened up, still straddling me, and ran his hands down my sides with newfound assurance.
“Show me,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I wrapped my hand around his cock as I had earlier. “Is this what you want?”
His eyes fluttered closed at my touch, his breath catching in his throat. “Please,” he begged with a neediness that fueled my fire.
Ryker braced his hands on either side of my head, his arms trembling as he held himself above me. His hips rocked into my grip with increasing desperation as he neared his peak. The controlled rhythm gave way to frantic thrusts as he chased his pleasure, making my hand slick with precum.
“Harley,” he gasped, his voice cracking on my name. “I’m—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his body tensed above me, his back arching as he came across my stomach with a soft cry he couldn’t quite smother. I worked him through it, gentling my touch as the pulses subsided, watching his face with undisguised adoration.
He trembled above me, panting and flushed. I couldn’t resist trailing my fingers through the evidence of his pleasure on my skin. On impulse, I swiped some of it and brought it to my lips for a taste.
“What are you doing?” He sounded scandalized, like a Regency era aristocrat who needed smelling salts because he caught sight of a woman’s ankle.
His expression was so comically horrified that I had to laugh. “Enjoying the fruits of my labor.”
“That’s—you can’t—” Ryker spluttered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
I grinned at him as I put on a show of sucking my finger clean. “You’re delicious,” I murmured, watching his embarrassment deepen.
“You’re only saying that to be nice.” He honest-to-god pouted.
To prove my point, I took another taste, making sure he was watching. The eroticism of the moment, combined with the intensity in his gaze, pushed me over the edge. My orgasm hit me hard, my release mixing with his on my stomach as I shuddered through my climax.
“I think this proves otherwise.” I gestured to the mess on my abs as I caught my breath. “Damn, I look like a work of art.”
Ryker stared, transfixed by the sight. Then, to my utter shock, he reached out with a tentative finger. He hesitated for a long moment before bringing the smallest sample of my cum to his lips.
I stopped breathing, hardly daring to believe what I was seeing. The small act felt more intimate than anything we’d done so far, a boundary that I never expected him to approach, let alone cross.
He considered the taste, his expression unreadable. “Not the worst,” he finally decided, looking surprised at his own assessment.
My heart raced with hope at the small but significant step. “High praise,” I teased, trying to keep my voice light despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late,” I replied with a grin, reaching for the tissues on his nightstand. As I cleaned us both up, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, memorizing the relaxed set of his shoulders and the thoughtful look in his eyes.
We’d crossed a line tonight that we couldn’t uncross. And despite my bravado and flirting, I found myself terrified and exhilarated in equal measure by what that might mean.
I threw the dirty tissues in the trash can next to the nightstand, then pulled Ryker down beside me. The mattress dipped under our combined weight as we nestled together, with me behind him. I draped my arm around his waist, pulling him closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between us.
His body against mine was sheer perfection, with the curve of his spine aligned with my chest, his ass snug against my groin, our legs tangled in a boneless mess. I’d imagined the moment a thousand times, but the reality of holding him exceeded every fantasy I’d ever conjured.
Ryker squirmed in my embrace. “Why do I have to be the little spoon?”
“Because you fit just right,” I whispered against his ear, feeling him melt into my embrace. My lips brushed the sensitive skin beneath his earlobe, sending a slight shiver through him. “I was made to hold you.”
He made a noncommittal noise, but his body betrayed him as he surrendered further into my embrace. I smiled against his hair, relishing my small victory.
I still buzzed pleasantly from my release, my afterglow heightened by the simple joy of holding Ryker close. My fingers traced lazy patterns on his stomach, not to arouse but simply to reassure myself it was real and not another vivid dream.
For years, I’d hidden genuine feelings behind relentless flirting. Now, with Ryker cradled in my arms after what we’d just shared, I allowed myself to hope that maybe we could be together for real.
The room’s quiet wrapped around us like a cozy cocoon, the only sounds our synchronized breathing and the occasional creak of the house settling.
“I guess it’s kind of nice to be held for once,” he murmured, his voice soft and vulnerable. He snuggled back into my hold, as if trying to get even closer.
I hugged him tighter, tucking my knees behind his, living for the comfort of the moment. My heart swelled with an emotion too big to name, too precious to examine too closely for fear it might shatter.
“It’s nice for me, too,” I admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder. “Better than nice.”
His hand found mine resting on his stomach, his fingers weaving between my own. “Who knew I’d enjoy being the little spoon?”
“There are plenty of things you might enjoy that you haven’t tried yet,” I teased but kept my voice gentle to not ruin the mood.
Ryker huffed a laugh that I felt more than heard. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Live what down? The fact that you fit perfectly in my arms?” I nuzzled against his hair. “Or that you secretly love it?”
“Both,” he grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his tone. If anything, he sounded content.
I tightened my arm around him. “Your secret’s safe with me, snookums.”
“Don’t call me that,” he protested.
“Would ‘love nugget’ be better?”
His body shook with laughter. “That’s beyond terrible.”
“I’ll keep workshopping it,” I promised, grinning against his shoulder. “I’ve got all week.”
We fell silent again, the comfortable kind that comes from years of friendship blooming into something new and tender. I listened to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my arm, and wondered what thoughts swirled in his mind.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
Ryker was quiet for so long I thought he might not respond. “I’m thinking about how this doesn’t feel as weird as it should.”
“Is that good or bad?”
He shrugged. “It feels…natural.”
From Ryker, that was practically a declaration of love. “I’ll take it.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “This is all new to me, Harley. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You seemed to know exactly what you were doing earlier when you made us both come,” I teased, unable to resist.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
I pressed another kiss to his shoulder. “I know. And it’s okay. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”
His voice warmed with affection. “I never thought I’d end up in bed with my best friend.”
“Are you complaining?”
He turned in my arms, allowing me to see his smile in the dim light. “Not at the moment, no.”
I couldn’t resist guiding him into a position that let me press a soft kiss to his lips. He responded immediately, his mouth warm and yielding against mine.
When we parted, he settled back against me, relaxing once more.
I held him close, savoring the weight and warmth of him.
For all my confidence, I’d never truly believed I’d be so lucky.
Now, I wanted to memorize every detail of the exact texture of his skin beneath my fingertips, the rhythm of his breathing, the way his body fit against mine, as if designed for that purpose.
“Harley?” Ryker’s voice was soft, already edged with sleep.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
The sudden gratitude confused me. “For what?”
“For being patient with me. For waiting.”
My throat tightened with emotion. “You were worth every second.”
He made a small, contented sound and nestled closer. Within minutes, his breathing evened into sleep. I stayed awake a little longer, holding him and allowing myself to believe that it wasn’t a fleeting moment of curiosity or experimentation on his part.
I allowed the truth to wash over me. What I felt for Ryker transcended mere desire or physical attraction. That emotion had quietly taken root during our years of friendship, hiding behind my teasing remarks and flirtatious comments.
Whether tonight marked the start of something enduring or simply a fleeting chapter in our story, I would cherish how Ryker surrendered to my touch as the walls between “pretending” and “meaning it” crumbled into nothing.
At least for now, he was mine, not only in body, but in the vulnerable spaces between heartbeats where truth lived.