11. Shilo
Shilo
B y the time we get back from our trip Sunday night, the fall chill has settled deep into my bones, and I’m sick—shivering, feverish, and puking up all the Budweiser Dad forced on me.
Real men drink beer , he’d said, handing me can after can while I silently begged Paige with my eyes to make it stop. Eventually, she started drinking them for me when Dad wasn’t looking, but it didn’t save me from the final shot he insisted I take—the one that secured our Thanksgiving dinner. I threw up after that, too. Honestly, I didn’t keep anything down all weekend. I hate this time of year.
The only silver lining was prying the truth about Ryann and Declan’s mom out of Paige. She died in a house fire, apparently. How sad is that? They were home when it happened, too, which explains Ryann’s scars. No wonder neither of them ever talk about it.
I’m so drained that I call off work Monday and Tuesday, stuck in bed with chills and a crushing mood that leaves me unable to move—even to use the bathroom. I hold it until the pain in my bladder is unbearable, finally dragging myself to the toilet with tears in my eyes. I can’t even bring myself to do schoolwork.
Mom and Paige check on me regularly, but I can’t help myself—I keep glancing at my phone, hoping Ryann might have messaged to ask if I’m okay. He never does. He didn’t even respond when I told him I couldn’t make it on Friday, and we haven’t spoken since that morning when he gave me a blowjob in front of his office window.
I wish he would text me.
By Wednesday morning, I’m feeling a little better—but not much. The hollow ache in my stomach only deepens when Ryann ignores me during the morning meeting, even though I got his coffee right. Declan, on the other hand, claps me on the shoulder, says he’s glad to have me back, and asks if I need anything. But not Ryann. He doesn’t even spare me a glance.
Whatever. I’m sure he hooked up with someone over the weekend since I wasn’t available, so he’s probably satisfied for now. That thought has my insides boiling, and I’m angry at myself. Angry at my dad. Angry at the world.
The rest of the week passes in a haze. I move through the days like a zombie, robotically following orders without a second thought. Every minute is a countdown to getting home, where I collapse into bed and hide under the covers. KC keeps pestering me to hang out or hop online for a game, but I can’t muster the energy to talk to anyone. Even work calls feel like too much, so I’ve started letting them go to voicemail and responding with an email instead.
Another Friday rolls around, and I have two hours until I’m off, sitting at my desk with my head resting on my arms. Just breathing. For once, I finished all my tasks quickly, if only to hide in the shadowy cocoon of the hoodie I chose over dress clothes today. Ryann barely reacted, just raised a brow as his indifferent gaze swept over me this morning. Fine by me. I didn’t want a reaction from him anyway. I just want the day to end so I can spend the weekend watching Master Splinter run around my room while Attack on Titan plays on repeat. Maybe, if I feel up to it, I’ll finally install the new CPU I bought with my first paycheck—
“Shilo.”
His deep, rumbling voice brings me out of my thoughts, and I tense, lifting my head to peek at Ryann from under my hood. He’s wearing a navy blue suit today with a pale green tie that compliments the gold in his eyes. Tastefully handsome. A strand of hair falls over his forehead when he tilts his head down at me, a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Was the coffee cold?” Frowning, I straighten in my seat. “I can ask Kansas to heat it up if you want. Or get you a fresh one.”
He blinks, opening his mouth to say something before closing it. Then he opens it again. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Why?”
That only confuses him, and he sets the cup down with an odd glance. “The coffee is perfectly fine.”
“Oh.” I squint up at him. “Do you need something from me?”
He crosses his arms, staring at me for a long moment before exhaling slowly. Something flickers in his eyes—an emotion I can’t quite place—before he mutters under his breath and kneels in front of me.
“What’s wrong, doll? And don’t tell me you’re fine because I haven’t had to fix a damn thing for you this week.”
My brows slam down as his palms settle on my thighs. “You… you’re mad at me for doing my job right ?”
“I’m not—“ He inhales sharply. “I’m not mad. Just concerned you’re plotting something.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I shrug, dropping my gaze to play with a frayed hole in my hoodie pocket. His fingers flex on my legs before a hand moves to tilt my chin up.
“Tell me,” he demands roughly, intense eyes searching mine as warmth from his touch thaws the ice that’s taken residence under my skin. Like all I needed was his hands on me to melt.
“I just…” Biting my lip, I try to contain my words, but they spill out against my will, tangling together in one breath. “I hate camping, and I hate beer because it’s gross and makes me bloated, and I hate hunting. I don’t want to hurt things. I want to take care of them, but my dad makes me go every year because it’s what my grandpa did with him, and he thinks it’ll toughen me up or something, but all it does is make me wish I’d been born different, and I don’t even like meat anyway, and—“
“Hey.” He cuts me off by tugging off my hood, tangling his fingers into my messy waves. “Take a deep breath. Slow down, it’s alright.”
But it’s not. It’s not, because I am who I am, and I’m pretty sure my dad wishes I wasn’t. But instead of saying that, I nod, swallowing down the rest of my tangent while balling my fists in my sleeves. Ryann studies me for several seconds before standing abruptly.
“Come on.” He leans over to log me out of the computer. “Grab your bag, and let’s go.”
Uh, what?
“Go where?” I squeak, clearing my throat as he checks his pockets before locking up his office.
“Lunch.” Pausing briefly, he throws me a glance over his shoulder. “I’m taking my employee out as a reward for his performance. A work lunch.”
Ah…got it. Strictly professional. So that’s how he wants it between us, then.
Despite the sharp pang in my chest, I shoulder my backpack before following him to the elevator, where we descend to an underground parking garage that I didn’t even know existed. Apparently, I’ve been parking Mom’s car in the customer lot this whole time.
He leads me over to a sleek white electric car, cocking a brow over the hood at me when I scoff and roll my eyes.
“Figures you’d drive something this pretentious,” I mumble, glaring down at the passenger door because the handle is flush with the car. How the hell am I supposed to get in?
“If conserving energy and shrinking my carbon footprint is pretentious, so be it,” he bites back in response, sliding into the driver’s seat. The windows are so tinted that I can’t even see inside.
Standing there for a moment, I shift on my feet, waving a hand over the handle like a frickin’ magician. “Open sesame.”
Nothing happens, of course. Ryann leans over to open the door for me, lips twitching, but I avoid his gaze as I settle into the soft leather and put on my seat belt.
It’s a rare sunny November day when we exit the garage, shining so bright that I flip my hood up as Ryann slips on a pair of fancy sunglasses while steering one-handed. From the corner of my eye, I trace the lines of his inked forearm—thorny vines winding up from his wrist like veins, twisting and curling before disappearing beneath the sleeve of his suit jacket. I know the design stretches all the way to his elbow, forming roots of the Tree of Life that spreads across his bicep and shoulder. I want to ask when he got it, and why. But instead, I stare out the window, my mouth watering because damn, it’s impossible not to notice how ridiculously sexy he looks when he drives.
The silence is awkward as he takes us toward the coast, tension thick enough to make my stomach ache. After how he’s ignored me the past few days, I don’t even know how to act around him anymore. Last week, it felt easier—I knew where we stood, or at least I thought I did. Now, I’m just… confused. Does he still want to have sex with me? Or has he found someone else?
Bothered by the quiet, Ryann reaches out to turn up the radio as he navigates through Seattle traffic. An upbeat, melodic tune filters through the speakers. He taps his thumb against the steering wheel in time with the beat, mouthing the words. When he catches me staring, he cuts me a sideways glance, and I quickly turn toward the windshield, my cheeks heating. It feels like that night in August when I couldn’t take my eyes off him, only this time, he’s the one driving.
We play this game for a while—me stealing glances from under my hair and quickly looking away whenever our eyes meet. Eventually, a laugh escapes me, and his lips curve into a reluctant smile, the heaviness between us easing.
“Where are we going?” I ask, reaching out to change the station when the song ends, causing him to smack his lips in annoyance.
“A coffee shop I used to frequent when I needed to relax in college.”
“You get all the free coffee you want at work, but we’re going somewhere to pay for it?”
He rolls his eyes, glancing over his shoulder to switch lanes. “It’ll be worth it.”
I hope so because, truthfully, I’m not the biggest coffee fan. But I don’t tell him that as he steers us down a street lined with storefronts, their backs to the ocean. He pulls into a roadside parking spot, and I blink out the window at a charming blue shop framed by a picket fence and a cozy covered porch. A wide bay window sits next to the door, where several cats lounge and stretch on the sill, basking in the sun.
I turn to stare at Ryann with parted lips. “A cat cafe? Really?”
He narrows his gaze as he undoes his seat belt, shutting off the car. “Why not? Who doesn’t like cats?”
“My dad,” I murmur, bouncing a little in my seat as my hand reaches for the door. “He’s not a fan of any animal, honestly. We had a Labrador that he took everywhere when I was little, but she ran away, and we never got another one. I think it broke his heart.”
Practically jumping out, I bound up the steps, rocking on the balls of my feet excitedly as Ryann takes his sweet ass time unfolding those long ass legs before joining me. For someone so tall, he sure moves slow. His hazel eyes spark with humor when he shakes his head, opening the door where tiny meows and loud screeches hit our ears.
An older woman with gray hair greets us pleasantly from the counter, a glass case full of various pastries and sandwiches on display. Behind her, there’s a chalkboard detailing different drinks that are all cat-themed, and of course, my boss orders the most boring one on the menu. I get a fruit smoothie, declining any food, which he scoffs at and orders me a bagel anyway.
The place isn’t too busy, so she seats us in a corner where a huge orange tabby is sprawled across the table. The cat grumbles as we slide into the benches but makes no effort to move. As Ryann pulls out his laptop, a small white cat jumps into his lap, curling up as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He surprises me by not pushing it away, instead petting its soft ears while it covers his suit in fur, the sight filling my chest with unexpected warmth.
I set my own laptop on the table, careful not to disturb the sleeping tabby as I start on my homework, trying not to get distracted by the man across from me. A skinny black kitten makes a grab for my bagel, but I scoop it up, cradling it in my sleeves. The kitten purrs and bats at my hoodie strings until it eventually falls asleep.
After a long, comfortable silence—so much better than the awkward tension in the car—I give in to temptation and sneak a glance at Ryann. He’s frowning at something on his screen, completely oblivious to the cat perched behind him, rubbing its head against his in lazy affection.
A giggle slips out before I can stop it.
He looks up, dazed, and his frown deepens when he catches me grinning. “What?”
“You just…” Another laugh bubbles out. “You look so serious in your suit, surrounded by cats. It’s like two puzzle pieces that don’t fit.”
Reaching up to pet the cat messing up his hair, he gives me a small smile. “I always wanted one growing up, but Ronin forbade it. And you can’t have pets in the dorms in college. I’d come here to study when my roommate brought back girls.”
“What were you like in college?”
“Much the same as I am now.”
“Ah,” I nod, petting the kitten in my arms. “Boring.”
He chokes on his coffee, glaring as he coughs loud enough to scare the sleeping tabby away. “I’m not boring, Shilo.”
With a shrug, I set the kitten down on the bench beside me. “You’re a workaholic. Do you have any other hobbies besides being Chief of Operations?”
“I play basketball and go to the gym, thank you very much. Do you have any hobbies besides being a pain in my ass?”
My gaze meets his, and I straighten in my seat. “Can I watch you play sometime?”
That surprises him, his head tilting. “I thought you said you don’t watch basketball.”
“I don’t, but…” Trailing off, I focus on my laptop, hesitating.
“But what?”
A flush creeps up my neck as I duck my head. “I bet you look really good…when you play.”
Jeez, that was awkward. He probably thinks I’m weird now. Probably thinks he dodged a bullet by not taking things further, because I don’t even know how to flirt. I can’t even tell a man I want to see him all sweaty and out of breath without sounding dumb. I suck. I suck so much.
Gentle fingers brush the bottom of my chin, lifting my face to catch Ryann’s devilish smirk. “Are you saying you want to eye fuck me while I shoot hoops, doll?”
Yes. God, yes. Unable to voice the words, I swallow hard and nod, tongue poking out to wet my lips.
“I think we can arrange that.” His thumb swipes at my bottom lip, pulling it down, and I suck it into my mouth on instinct. A deep noise rumbles in the back of his throat, eyes darkening when I swirl my tongue over the pad of his finger. Heat instantly shoots down my spine, tightening my balls as my dick starts to swell, and I whine slightly with a squirm of my hips.
“I haven’t touched myself,” I breathe, his thumb leaving a wet trail of spit as it falls from my mouth. “Since you told me not to. Not once.”
Ryann goes completely still, grip on my jaw tightening as a tangible energy crackles between us. “You haven’t came since Friday last week?”
Shaking my head, I clench my hole. “No. And…and I’m wearing it. The plug. Right now.”
“ Jesus Christ. “ He lets me go, sitting back in his seat to run a hand down his face before leveling me with a hard stare. “You’ve been wearing it this whole time?”
“Every day this week.” My voice drops to a hoarse whisper, every part of me aching for release. I couldn’t exactly do anything all weekend while sharing a tent with Paige, and I wasn’t in the mood when we returned. But when I started feeling better…and I still couldn’t jerk off? I don’t even care how it makes me look. I’m desperate. Need it, or I’ll die.
He mutters a curse under his breath, slamming his laptop shut before pushing to his feet. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
Gathering up my things, I tug the hem of my hoodie down to hide my boner and follow him back to the car. Ryann opens the passenger door for me before rounding to the driver’s side, taking off once we buckle in. I have no clue where he’s taking us, but I let out another whine as I press my palm against my cock, crying out when he snatches my hand.
“Hush, none of that,” he chastises, turning onto some empty back road toward the beach. “We’re almost there.”
By almost there, he means seven ridiculously long minutes until an abandoned parking lot comes into view. The asphalt is cracked and crumbling in places where vegetation has begun to reclaim the land, sand encroaching as the ocean reaches for the horizon. There’s no soul in sight since the bluffs off to the left entirely separate this part of the beach from the rest.
Throwing the car into park, he unbuckles both our seat belts and leans over the center console to wrap his hands around my waist, hauling me onto his lap while I squeak in surprise. My back hits the horn, blaring it loudly, but he doesn’t seem to care as he fists my hair and crashes his lips to mine, groaning when our tongues glide together. His hard length presses into my ass, and I grind against it, clinging tightly to his suit jacket.
“Fuck, baby, you’ve been so good,” he growls against my lips, reaching between us to undo my jeans. “Let me feel you.”
“Please, Ry, I-I need…need…” Need you to make me come.
Sliding a hand down my back, he dips below the hem, fingers brushing my crease. “Shh, I know. I know.” When he finds the base of the plug between my cheeks, a moan vibrates his chest, his teeth grazing my jaw as he kisses his way to my throat. “Climb into the back and take off your pants. I need to see it.”
With blood roaring in my ears, I do as he says, crawling between the front seats to kick off my shoes and scramble out of my jeans. After carefully folding his suit jacket and undershirt, he follows me back shirtless, my breath catching at the sight of his hard muscle and golden skin. It’s a bit cramped for his long legs, but he kneels over me and wraps his fingers around my shaft, stroking me slowly.
“Oh, God.” Shuddering, I thrust up into his fist, needing more, but he forces me still with a wicked smile.
“Now, now. We both know how soon this will end if you don’t stop, and I want you coming on my cock. Not my hand.”
On his…
Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit. It’s finally happening.
“On your hands and knees, doll,” he commands, releasing me to lick my precum from his fingers. “Lay that pretty face on the seat and show me what’s mine.”
My teeth clench, every muscle taut as I flip around and fight the urge to touch myself. I’ve been so damn horny I nearly humped the pillow this morning, reasoning that it wouldn’t actually count because, technically, my hands weren’t around my dick. Still might do that, honestly, if this keeps up. He won’t know. Can’t tell me what to do.
Humming in approval, Ryann presses on the plug, causing me to jerk forward when it nudges against my prostate. “Fucking beautiful.”
Moaning into the leather fabric, I try to get some much needed friction against the seat, but he lifts me up with a strong arm under my waist, slowly removing the plug. Once it’s out, he replaces it with his fingers, easily sliding three of them in with a sinful groan that has goosebumps spreading along my heated skin.
“There’s so much lube, it’s leaking out. Have you been wet like this all week for me, baby?”
“Mm-hmm.” Turning to glance at him over my shoulder, I catch the way he bites his lip, slacks pushed down to his knees as he strokes himself, fingering me slowly.
“Goddamn.” A dark strand falls over his brow as he scoots closer, flicking his gaze up to mine when he pulls a condom from his pocket. “You ready to take me?”
With a nod, I whimper as I watch him roll it on, needing to feel his length fill me up. I’ve thought of nothing else since August, and I’m done waiting for it.
When he notches himself at my entrance, though, a thought has me asking him to wait. He goes still, shoulders tensing.
“Last weekend, did you…” Swallowing nervously, I turn away. “Were you with…someone else?”
There’s a long pause that has my arms trembling, but then he turns my face to his. “No, Shilo. There’s been no one else since we started this.”
Hazel eyes hold mine intently, his voice steady and firm. So I nod again, leaning into his touch as I press my ass against his tip. “I’m ready. Please?”
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, dipping his chin to watch as he pushes inside me slowly.
Like last time, it burns at first, but not nearly as bad. No, this time, the ache is almost pleasant, especially when he seats himself fully, hips resting flush against my skin. A soft moan leaves my lips when he shivers, leaning forward to trail kisses down my spine.
“You’re doing so well, doll. How do you feel?”
“So full,” I whisper, his length filling me up and calming the nerves twisting my stomach to knots. “So good.”
Ryann chuckles, slipping his fingers under my shirt. “Let me take this off. I want to touch you.”
Despite my earlier sentiment, doubt rushes in, causing me to drop my forehead and mumble into the seat. He still hasn’t moved, content just to warm his cock inside of me, and I can’t say I hate it.
Actually kind of like it.
His lips find the back of my neck, tongue lapping at the sweat, his hand snaking around to play with my limp dick. I hadn’t even noticed I’d gone soft.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, nuzzling against my nape. “You’re beautiful, baby. So perfect.”
I hear his words. I do. And yet, there’s that vile voice in my head, hissing that he’s only saying these things because he’s currently buried inside of me. That he wouldn’t be saying them, or even thinking them, if we weren’t having sex.
So I shake my head, reaching back to feel the hair on his thick thighs. “Can I turn around?”
My arms feel empty, an odd ache in my chest to hold onto something. Anything.
He hesitates, breathing unevenly against my neck before letting go of my shaft to pull me up. “Here, we’ll do it like this, okay?”
With my back to his chest, he sits down so that I’m straddling him backwards. The new position has his crown hitting me just right, and I buck my hips, crying out in pleasure.
“Mm, fuck,” he growls, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “Just like that. Ride me, Shilo.”
Gripping the front seat, I bounce on my knees, hard cock now leaking profusely, sounds coming out of me I’ve never heard before. Desperate, needy, incoherent. He thrusts up, pounding into me so deep that I fall forward, my eyes stinging with some unnamed emotion when he places a hand over my erratic heart to hold me up. I’m so close, legs trembling as my head falls back against his shoulder, and just when I’m about to tip over that edge, he reaches down to grip both my length and balls in one tight squeeze, effectively cutting off my orgasm in its tracks.
“What the hell? “ I snarl, tears spilling over my lashes as I try to move, but he’s got me pinned.
“If you come right now, so will I, and I’m not done with you yet.” His hot breath in my ear makes me shiver, the windows fogged from our heavy breathing as he gently wraps his free hand around my throat. “Slow down, baby doll. Nice and slow.”
God, when he calls me that…
Releasing my dick, he uses my waist to lift me gently before pushing me back down, sliding inside at a pace that has a sob breaking past my lips. It feels too good. He feels too good. His strong arms cage me, lap as broad and comfortable as I knew it would be, the scent of his cologne mixed with leather and sweat.
Too much, too much .
I don’t even realize I’m holding his hand until his fingers flex against mine, helping me ride him leisurely, his tongue licking at the tears tracking down my face. He’s whispering words that I barely believe, sweet lies that make my throat close and chest tighten with desires that I’m too scared to acknowledge as I give myself over wholly and completely.
He said this would just be fucking. He told me I couldn’t handle it.
As both our orgasms slam into us, my cum shooting onto my neck and chin as his release fills the condom inside of me, I can’t help but think…
This didn’t just feel like fucking.
And he was absolutely right.
I wanted to fall asleep after we finished, but Ryann wouldn’t let me. Once the high faded and we caught our breaths, he pulled out of me silently. Tied off the condom and stashed it in a grocery bag while avoiding my gaze, the air between us thick while we pulled on the rest of our clothes.
Without him inside of me, I feel almost empty, my hole twinging when I slip back into the passenger seat with a wince. Either he doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care, because he says nothing as he puts the car in drive and merges back onto the main road toward CalTek. Silence stretches between us the entire ride, unbroken until he pulls up next to Mom’s Corolla. Clearing his throat, he finally speaks.
“I leave Sunday to meet with a client and won’t be back until next week. We’ll be closed for the holiday then, so I’ll see you after Thanksgiving.”
Frowning, I peek at him from beneath my hair. “Where? I didn’t see anything about it on your schedule?”
His jaw ticks at the corner, gaze locked on the windshield. “Florida. It just came up today.”
Something tells me he’s lying. Who is he meeting? What’s the reason? But it’s not my business, right? So I simply nod and mumble a goodbye as I stiffly grab my bag and exit the vehicle. The moment the door shuts behind me, he’s gone, headlights blurring when I gaze numbly after him with watery eyes.
Everything hurts. My legs, from balancing on him. My throat from breathing and moaning too hard. My asshole. My heart.
As I limp to the car with my head bowed, uncomfortable from the lube drying between my legs, I make a decision that’ll probably affect my grade and degree, but I don’t care. I can’t do this. I didn’t know before, but I do now.
Casual sex is not for me.
I’m quitting. As soon as Thanksgiving ends, I’m done.