Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
ELIZABETH
Ryder stalks in, and my brilliant smile turns into a gasp when I see his swollen jaw. Goddammit, Jayson! I knew things were going to explode between the two of them, but I hadn’t expected it to be so soon. It’s been less than half a day since I left their condo and came back to my apartment. Barely ten hours. I hope that whatever repressed feelings they’ve been carrying around the past week got rectified, and this stupid tug-of-war is over and done with. Jayson promised me our family would remain tight. He promised me. All I can do is wait and see if he breaks that promise.
“I bet he looks worse,” I say, hoping to defuse the tension with humor.
“Not in the mood,” Ryder grumbles and maneuvers around me to head down the hallway toward the bedroom. The bedroom I now consider as ours.
He pulls off his shirt along the way but doesn’t say anything.
“Ryder?” I cautiously say, following him. How do I fix this? “Baby, please talk to me. You’re kind of freaking me out.”
I knew the baby would get him. It affects him just as much as it does me.
He stops in the bedroom doorway, his hands raised and gripping the top of the doorframe, head bent. If I weren’t so focused on him, I would have missed his hushed words.
“I can’t lose you. I just got you.”
I slide around his side and touch his chest, immediately homing in on the tattoo above his heart. He’s shirtless, and I can’t not touch him. I can barely keep my hands off him when he has clothes on.
“What’s brought this on? What did Jayson say to you?”
I kiss the crown of his tattoo and feel the fly of his jeans bulge against my stomach.
“Jesus, woman. Stop molesting me, so I can think straight.”
“Can’t help myself. You’re too damn sexy.” I splay my hands across his ribcage and skim gentle presses of my lips in the hollow of his throat. “Sweetheart, please talk to me.”
He shakes his head, and I look up and meet devastated amber eyes. Ryder needs something from me. Reassurance, maybe? So I let my body be the actions that speak louder than words.
“I don’t know what nonsense Jayson put inside your head, but I’m going to show you how much I want you.” I gently bite his pectoral and lick it, the salt from his skin delicious. “How much I love you.” I kiss his clavicle. “How much I am yours and only belong to you.” I pop the button on his jeans and slide my hands around to palm his backside. “And you’re going to tell me what happened tonight so I can show you those three things again, and again, and again, until you believe them.”
Ryder drops his arms from the top of the doorframe and lifts me up in one lithe move. I lock my legs around him and hold tight as he carries me to our bed, sitting down with me straddling his lap. I climb off him and take great care in removing his shoes, then his socks.
“Why do you think you’re going to lose me?”
“Something Jay said. It struck a nerve.”
I take his zipper between my teeth and tug it down, then grab the front loops of his jeans and pull, peeling them down his legs.
“Let me rephrase that. What precisely did Jayson say that made you think that?” Next, I remove his boxers, freeing his very hard cock. I lick the tip, and he hisses. “I’m waiting, Ryder.” I lick again, flattening my tongue, then place a flurry of kisses around the head.
“He reminded me that he was your first in everything,” Ryder tries to say, but his breath is too choppy with desire, and his words come out uneven.
“I don’t remember him that way, Ryder. You’re my first,” I reply, stripping my clothes off. “Only you,” I say and push him back to lie down.
I crawl up his body and line myself up to take him inside me. Ryder’s hands roughly grab my hips. I’m sure I’ll see the finger marks tomorrow. I stretch my arms out and bend over him, my face hovering above his, my hair forming a jasmine-scented curtain of blond hair around him.
“What are the three things I told you?”
Ryder groans when I rock back and forth, sliding him through my wetness.
“You said you want me,” he grits out between clenched teeth, the hold on his desire close to breaking its tether.
I continue my gradual rocking motion. “And?”
“You said you love me.”
I lower the rest of the way and take his mouth, wrapping my tongue with his in a soul-shaking, hungry kiss.
When I release his lips, I ask, “What was the third thing?”
My body ignites with a devil fire when I feel his control snap.
“You’re mine .”
In one synchronous move, he thrusts up as I slam down, my body hungry for him to claim me.
A second. A breath. A beat.
Then I rise and lower, sleek and sweaty, meeting him push for pull, my orgasm already building. Ryder sits up and cups each breast, fondling and sucking, like he can’t get enough. I spear my hands through his hair and grab hold, my skin being flayed by our heat. He latches on to one nipple and pulls it between his teeth. I jerk as if being zapped by electricity, the sensation too much but one that I know will never be enough. My hips piston harder, the sounds of our bodies coming together crashing in a frantic staccato.
Suddenly, Ryder flips me over so I’m on all fours, my face cradled against the thick bedspread. He pulls my hips up and slams back into me.
“Ryder!” I cry because it feels so damn good.
We devolve into sexual chaos, and it’s the most fantastic thing I have ever experienced. Ryder pounds into me, taking what he needs. Once, twice, three times, and I’m done, gripped by an orgasm so strong, I lose the ability to breathe. I feel him thicken inside me, my walls clamping down hard. He releases the sexiest moan as his own orgasm takes over.
My forearms and knees give out, and I collapse on the bed, Ryder on top of me. I love the feel of his warm skin and heavy body pressing into me. Every time we make love, I hold him in place and refuse to let him get up. This time is no different.
“Don’t you dare move,” I warn him, and he chuckles near my ear.
“I know better. You’ve trained me well, sweet Elizabeth,” he replies, then kisses my shoulder and neck.
God, this feels so good. I may never get up. I don’t care that his cum is trickling out of me. We can change the bedsheets later. It was so worth it.
As our sweat-slicked skin cools under the breeze coming in through my open window, I wiggle onto my back and brush strands of his hair off his gorgeous face.
“That was fun.”
And it was. Everything we do together, every time we make love, all of it is new for both of us.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll turn it into fun-tastic.”
I fall into a fit of giggles. “That was so cheesy.”
“Thank you,” he says happily, sounding proud of himself.
He rolls over to his side, taking me with him. I snuggle back in, and he drapes a leg over mine.
“How bad does it hurt?” I ask about his bruise.
“It looks worse than it feels,” he assures me, but I’ll make sure to tend to it once we get up.
“Ryder?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“You believe me, right?” His eyes find mine. “That I’m yours and I love you. Don’t let Jayson get in your head. Trust me when I tell you that he and I will have a very long talk about boundaries.”
“You don’t need to fight my battles for me, Elizabeth.”
“I have a feeling that this is also my battle. Besides, isn’t that what couples do? Fight for each other and stand by one another?”
For some reason, what I say earns me a very long, toe-curling kiss.
“Yeah. That’s what they do.”
“Remember your promise to me—that if you ever find yourself falling into a dark place, you come find me and talk to me first.”
“I will.” He caresses my arm and side before resting his hand over my butterfly tattoos. “How are you?”
It’s a simple question laced with a deeper meaning. I know how hard it was for him this week, giving me the time Jayson and I needed. Ryder’s understanding and support, his care and selflessness, only make me love him more.
I brush my nose with his. “Dealing, but I’m okay. I’m worried about you and angry at Jayson.”
He cups my face. “He’s hurting, and I am the cause of some of that. But he’s my brother, and I’m going to be there for him. If he needs to punch me, I’d rather he does that than drink.”
The guilt comes swiftly because I’m the reason for the torment they endured this last year. I know it’s a misplaced guilt, just like theirs is thinking they had failed me that night.
“I’m hungry.”
A smile curves Ryder’s mouth. “Interesting segue.”
I spent a week holed up in their condo, drowning in pain and lost in heartache. I was given a second chance at life, a life my daughter will never have. I need to live it for the both of us.
“Naked picnic?”
His hands roam my back, and I arch into his touch. “I like the sound of that.”
“Let’s also get some ice on that bruise.”
As soon as we get to the kitchen, I grab a sandwich bag from the pantry to fill with ice, and when I come out, Ryder is rummaging through the fridge. His back is to me, his fine ass on display, the sight too good not to ogle.
“I think you may have gone overboard on the pudding cups.”
I fake gasp in horror. “You will not speak such sacrilege in my kitchen.”
He glances over his shoulder and grins. “What I have planned for the pudding cups will most definitely be sacrilegious. Where are your cold cuts?”
“I could make such a dirty comment, but I won’t. Middle drawer.” I hop onto the counter, the cold granite suctioning to my bare ass. Not the most pleasant sensation. “I want spicy mustard on my sandwich,” I say as I eye the growing pile of fruit, cheese, and deli meat on the counter.
He turns around, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not making a sandwich. We’re playing a game.” He steps closer, fitting himself between my legs.
“What kind of game involves half the stuff from my fridge?”
“The best kind. Close your eyes.”
I give him a skeptical look. “If this is some trick to make me eat something weird, you’re in trouble.”
“No tricks.”
With a huff of amusement, I eventually oblige and close my eyes, my heart fluttering slightly from the anticipation of whatever he has planned.
“No peeking.”
“I won’t.”
With my eyes shut, sound becomes amplified. Ryder moves around the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers. I hear the crinkle of a wrapper, the snick of a knife against a cutting board, and my curiosity grows.
Ryder comes back, his body heat between my legs thrumming a delicious ache. “You ready?”
“Yes.” My reply comes out breathless. There’s something very seductive about giving over control to him.
“Open.”
I part my lips and feel the cool, crisp sweetness of an apple hit my tongue. “Honeycrisp,” I say with a satisfied smile as I chew.
“How can you tell?”
“It’s my favorite.” Clumsily, I reach out and grab his wrist, bringing the rest of the apple to my mouth.
“What about this?” he says.
I obediently take a bite, and the flavor melts into my senses. “Not the regular sharp, but the white extra sharp.”
“Correct,” Ryder replies, impressed. “You’re pretty good at this. What about this?”
His hands rest lightly on my waist and draw me closer. I feel the soft press of his mouth against mine—gentle at first, then more demanding.
“How do I taste?” he whispers.
“Decadent. Perfect. Mine. ”
My eyes fly open when gravity escapes me, and I’m lifted and lowered onto the kitchen island.
“Ryder.” I giggle.
“Time for dessert.”
My giggles turn to moans when he buries his face in my pussy and devours me.
After our food sexcapades, which involve strawberries and whipped cream, Ryder gives me another first when he fucks me into delirium on the kitchen table. After a quick shower, we fall asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.
But sleep doesn’t last long.
I wake suddenly, restless from a dream of Jayson in a tuxedo, taking a knee in front of me beside the Eiffel Tower.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I check the time on the bedside clock. One in the morning. Great.
Rolling over onto my side, I watch Ryder sleep. His face is relaxed and peaceful. Almost boyish. He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Ryder takes such good care of me. He takes care of everyone. I brush a lock of his hair off his forehead. My man is selfless and good and kind to the core.
I lie there for a half hour before I give up and gently ease myself out from Ryder’s arms.
Slipping out from under the covers, I grab my phone, then tiptoe to the other side of the bed and pick up Ryder’s before sneaking out of the bedroom.
When I get to the living room, I sprawl on the couch and open Ryder’s contacts. Finding his name, I enter his number into my phone and send a text.
Me: It’s Elizabeth.
I don’t expect to get a response since it’s after midnight, so I’m surprised when one comes through almost immediately.
Fallon: Kitten?
Me: Do we have to go through that again? Stop calling me Kitten.
Fallon: cat emoji
Fallon: Color me surprised when I say you are the last person I expected to text me.
Me: Well, this is new Elizabeth.
Fallon: Heard Trevor was hanging at Ry’s place last week.
Me: Not choosing sides, so don’t start. I hang with who I want.
Fallon: Haven’t seen my boy all week. He okay?
Me: That’s why I’m texting. He’s had a rough week.
Fallon: What do you need me to do?
Just like that. What do you need me to do? I move Fallon up another rung on my respect ladder.
Me: Something fun to get his mind off stuff. Any ideas?
Fallon: You have no idea how dangerous those words are.
Me: Fallon…
Fallon: I’ll get back in touch.
Me: Thanks.
Fallon: A secret for a secret?
Another flash of déjà vu hits me, but it makes me more curious than anything else.
Me: I’m game.
Fallon: I really like the new Elizabeth.
Fallon: What’s your worst fear?
I sit back against the sofa cushions and tuck my legs under myself. My worst fear? I bite my lip. I have so many. Fear of that night, fear of never knowing why, fear of finding out why, fear of losing my guys, fear of losing Ryder, fear that I will never be able to have any more children. But my worst fear of all…
Me: Getting my memory back.
Me: Your turn.
Fallon: Having you think I’m a worthless piece of shit.
Fallon: Good night, Kitten.
Me: Fallon. Wait.
I stare at my phone for a long time, waiting for Fallon to reply.
“Babe? What are you doing up?”
I startle and quickly hide our phones under a throw pillow. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He shuffles into the living room and plops down beside me, a huge yawn escaping. “Aren’t you running with Julien in a few hours?”
I completely forgot about our five a.m. run.
I lie back and rest my head on his chest. His arm goes around me.
“I’m supposed to. Maybe I should cancel, especially after what happened between you and Jayson.”
“Come back to bed.”
“Do you mind if we stay here?” I’m comfortable and don’t want to move.
He kisses my temple in answer.
I eventually fall asleep to dreams of sitting with Fallon on a bench swing.
Secret for a secret .