Chapter 7 Ryder #2
Pink floods her cheeks but she doesn't cover herself. Just sits there in my lap, breathing hard, letting me look.
I trace the top edge of her bra with one finger. Watch her pupils widen. Then I lean down and press my mouth to the swell of her breast above the lace.
She makes a sound. High and needy.
I want to hear it again. Want to catalog every sound she makes. Want to know exactly what undoes her.
My hands slide up her back. Find the clasp of her bra. "Okay?"
"Yes." She's shaking. "Yes, please."
I unhook the clasp. Push the straps down her arms. The bra falls away, and then she's bare from the waist up. Perfect breasts with pink nipples already peaked. Rapid rise and fall of her chest. Flush spreading down from her face.
"Stop staring," she whispers.
"Can't." I palm one breast. Feel the weight of it. Brush my thumb over the nipple and watch her eyes go dark. "You're perfect."
Before she can argue I put my mouth on her.
She bows back. One hand flies to my hair and grips. The other braces on the couch behind me. I lick and suck and worship her breasts while she rocks against me. Each roll of her hips grinds down on my cock and I'm so hard it borders on pain.
"Ryder." She tugs my hair. "I need—"
"What do you need?"
"You. Inside me. Now."
"Not yet." I switch to her other breast. Give it the same attention. "Want to make you come first."
"I already—" She breaks off when I bite down gently. "Oh god."
I slide one hand between us. Cup her through denim. Press my palm against where I know she's aching. She shatters.
Her whole body goes taut. Her head falls back. She bites her lip hard to keep from crying out. I watch her come undone in my lap. Feel her shaking. Hear the small whimpers she can't hold back.
When she comes back to herself, she's boneless against me. Her forehead rests on my shoulder. Her breath comes hot and fast against my neck.
"That was..." She can't finish.
"We're not done."
She pulls back to look at me. Her eyes are glazed. Her lips swollen. "We're not?"
"Not even close." I stand with her still in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her toward the bedroom. "We've got all night. I'm going to take my time."
The bedroom is small. Just a double bed with a worn quilt and a window that overlooks the trees. I set Lucy down on the edge of the bed. She reaches for me but I step back.
"Let me look at you," I say.
"Ryder—"
"Please." The word comes out rough. "Just let me look."
She settles back on her hands. Lets me drink her in. Her hair falling in waves around bare shoulders. Her lips red and swollen. The way her chest rises and falls. The flush spreading down her neck.
She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I kneel between her legs. Rest my hands on her thighs. Look up at her.
"Last chance to change your mind," I say.
"I'm not changing my mind." She cups my face. "I'm here, Ryder. That's my answer."
The words settle into my chest like a vow. Like a promise. Like the answer to a question I didn't know I was asking.
"Then I'm here too," I say.
I take my time. Strip away her jeans and underwear with hands that shake. Worship every inch of skin I reveal with my mouth. Map her body until she's writhing and gasping my name.
When I finally put my mouth where she needs me most, she comes apart so beautifully I almost lose it right there.
After, when she's boneless and gasping, I strip off my own clothes. Cover her body with mine.
"You okay?" I ask.
"More than okay." She wraps her arms around my neck. "That was incredible."
"Just getting started." I kiss her softly. Pull back to look at her. "Still want more?"
"Yes." No hesitation. "Please."
I reach for my jeans. For the condom I've been carrying since this afternoon. Just hoping. Just in case.
She watches me roll it on with eyes that are dark and hungry.
"Come here," she says.
I settle between her thighs. Line myself up. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure." She rocks her hips up. "Stop asking and just—"
I slide inside.
We both freeze. Her eyes go wide, pupils blown dark with pleasure. I feel her clench around me, tight and hot, and have to grip the sheets to keep from moving. To give her time to adjust. To breathe through the overwhelming sensation of being inside her.
"Okay?" My voice doesn't work right. Comes out rough and broken.
"Yeah." She rocks her hips experimentally. Takes me deeper. Her breath catches, and I feel the tremor that runs through her. "More than okay. Move, Ryder."
I do. Start slow, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in.
Building the rhythm. Her hands find my shoulders, nails digging in as I angle my hips and find that spot that makes her gasp.
I watch her face as she takes what she needs—the way her lips part, the flush spreading down her neck, the little crease between her brows when the pleasure gets intense.
She wraps her legs around my waist, changing the angle, and I groan against her throat. Kiss the racing pulse there. Taste salt and vanilla and her.
"There," she breathes. "Right there. Don't stop."
I don't. Keep the steady rhythm even when my muscles burn. Even when I want to go faster, harder. I wait for her, listening to the sounds she makes when I hit the right spot. The way her breathing changes. The desperate little noises in the back of her throat that tell me she's close.
Her inner walls flutter around me. She arches up, pressing her chest against mine, and I feel the exact moment she tips over. The way her whole body goes taut, then shudders. The sound of my name breaking apart on her lips.
It pulls me under. I bury my face in her neck and let go, feeling her clench around me in aftershocks as I come. Stars burst behind my eyelids. My heart hammers so hard I think it might crack my ribs.
It's perfect. She's perfect. This is perfect.
And when the world comes back into focus, when I can breathe again, I know I'm in trouble.
Because this won't be enough. However much time we have, it won't be enough. Not even close.
After, we lie tangled together under the quilt.
The fire in the other room has burned down to embers, casting the bedroom in shadow and amber light.
Snow falls harder outside the window, coating the glass in white.
Lucy's head rests on my chest, her hair tickling my jaw.
My fingers trace idle patterns on her bare shoulder—circles and loops and the outline of her collarbone.
Her breathing evens out. Slows. But she's not asleep yet.
"That was..." She trails off.
"Yeah."
She's quiet for a moment. Then: "What time is it?"
I reach for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up. "Just past two."
"We should probably go back soon. Before anyone wakes up."
"Probably." But neither of us moves.
The real world waits outside this cabin. Connor and his warnings. My career and her business. The deadline counting down. All the reasons this won't work.
But in here, for now, we're safe. Just us. Just this moment.
"Ryder?" Lucy's voice is soft.
"Yeah?"
"I don't regret this. Whatever happens, I want you to know that."
I press a kiss to her hair. "I don't regret it either."
It's the truth. Even knowing this might end in flames. Even knowing I'll probably hurt her. Even knowing our time is limited.
Right now, holding her, I don't regret a single choice that led us here.
"We should go," she finally says. "Before it gets too late."
We dress in silence. The magic of the last few hours settles into something quieter. More real. By the time we're in the truck driving back toward town, the world is still deep in sleep. No lights in windows. No cars on the road.
"I'll park down the street," I say. "We can sneak in through the back."
"Together?"
"Together." I glance at her. "Safer than you walking alone in the dark anyway."
I park two houses down with the headlights off. Kill the engine. We sit there for a moment in the quiet.
"Ready?" I ask.
She nods. Takes my hand. "Ready."
We slip out of the truck. Close the doors as quietly as possible. The house is dark when we approach. Not a single light on. Everyone asleep.
I use my key on the back door. The lock clicks. We both freeze. Listen. Nothing. No movement upstairs. No footsteps.
Inside, we pause in the mudroom. Lucy's hand is still in mine. In the darkness I can just make out her face. Her eyes wide. A small smile playing at her lips.
This is insane. We're sneaking into her father's house at three in the morning like teenagers.
I love it.
I pull her close. Kiss her once. Quick and soft. She melts into me for just a second before pulling back.
"Upstairs," she whispers.
We take the stairs slow. Careful. I know which steps creak. Third from the bottom. Seventh from the top. We avoid them both.
At the landing, we pause outside our doors. Her room. My room. The bathroom that connects them.
"Goodnight," she mouths.
"Goodnight," I mouth back.
She slips into her room. I slip into mine. Both doors close with barely a sound.
In bed, I stare at the bathroom door that connects to Lucy's room. Listen to the quiet sounds of her moving around. Getting ready for bed. The water running. Then silence.
My phone buzzes.
Lucy: "We made it."
Me: "Like a couple of professionals."
Lucy: "Tonight was perfect."
Me: "Yeah. It was."
Lucy: "Goodnight, Ryder."
Me: "Goodnight, Lucy."
I set the phone down. Roll onto my side. Close my eyes and see her face. Feel her hands. Hear her voice saying "I'm here."
For now, she's mine. I'm hers. Secret or not, complicated or not, temporary or not.
And tomorrow we'll figure out how to make this work in daylight.
But tonight was perfect.
Tonight was ours.