7. Ryker
Ryker
Mila closed the door, and I stood there feeling like an idiot.
She’d looked at me with such a shocked expression on her face when I’d said I’d be dreaming of her all night long.
She probably thought I was joking, just like she probably thought I’d been joking about the skinny-dipping, but I hadn’t been joking about either of the two.
I knew I was playing with fire and getting myself into potentially dangerous territory.
I thought about everything I had to do, and I sighed.
It wasn’t going to be easy. And a part of me didn’t want to do any of it, but I knew this was the only way.
However, that didn’t stop me from walking to Mila’s bedroom door.
I stood outside the door, debating whether to knock or just go inside and pull her into my arms. That would be the easy way.
I’d seen the way she’d been staring at me, with her lips parted and her face a rosy hue.
Mila wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
I wanted to take her and make her mine. I couldn’t believe that she was letting Barbie get a rise out of her.
Barbie, who couldn’t even compare in beauty or brains to Mila.
Barbie, whom I would have slapped if I weren’t a gentleman.
I wish that I hadn’t brought her, though I knew why she was here.
Not that I liked it at all. But it wasn’t up to me.
Not yet. I just had to bide my time and wait.
My fingers clutched on to the handle, and it took everything in me not to open that door.
I could almost picture her lying there in the bed, her long blond hair strewn all over the pillow as she hugged the sheets to her body.
The bed would be warm and the sheets rumpled as she wiggled around to make herself comfortable.
She wouldn’t sleep right away. She’d lie awake, listening to the sound of Lara breathing as she slept, and she’d stare out the window, hopefully thinking about me.
She’d wonder if I’d gone back to my room to fuck Barbie.
She’d wonder what would have happened if she’d walked toward me just now when she’d turned around.
How I’d willed her to come toward me. To give me a real sign that she wanted me.
That’s all I needed. I needed it to come from her.
I needed to know that when I took her and made her mine, it was because she wanted it too.
I knew she wanted me—it would have been difficult to have ignored all the signs—but I don’t think she knew what she would be getting into with me.
I wasn’t all sunrises and late nights at the lake staring at the stars.
I was dark nights with the wolves howling into the wind.
I was secrets in corners and dark alleys.
I was whips and chains and plush red velvet.
I was cuffs and ropes and unspeakable actions that would both turn her on and disgust her.
My hand dropped from the handle, and I stepped back.
Now was not the time to take her. Now was not the time to make her mine.
Not now, not in this way. It would almost be too duplicitous.
This was too romantic a setting. I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.
Or the right idea. I stepped back from the door and walked to the bathroom.
I needed a cold shower. I needed to focus on the task at hand.
Mila could wait another night, even if I didn’t want her to.
I’d go according to the plan. I’d have her soon.
For four weeks. And then she’d see the real me.
And I didn’t know if that would be the beginning, or the beginning of the end.