Chapter 7
Ryder
Claire Kennett is mine. I’ve known that on some level since I saw her standing next to my truck yesterday, arms crossed, hip cocked, brows furrowed. She came armed for battle, and she may continue to spar with me for the next sixty years, but I’ll disarm her every time.
She’s swaying a bit when I release her lips. While she’s off-kilter, I decide to bombard her with a few questions. “How many boys have you kissed?” I know she hasn’t likely kissed any men. She’s too young. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she’s dated other older men.
“Three,” she mutters, though I don’t think she would have so readily responded if she weren’t dizzy.
I like her this way, so I flatten my palms on her back and kiss her again, enjoying the way she melts against my chest and sighs into my mouth. She tastes like sugar and cinnamon and coffee. She tastes like Claire. She tastes like my future.
When I release her lips this time, I immediately bring my mouth to her ear and ask, “How many men have you slept with?”
Her breath hitches. This time, she has the wherewithal not to respond.
I grin against her neck, suspecting the answer. “Tell me, baby. How many cocks have you taken into your body, Claire?” I slide one hand down to her fantastic ass and squeeze her firmly, my fingers parting her cheeks.
Claire rises onto her toes and moans as her forehead comes to my shoulder.
I bite her earlobe just hard enough to get her attention. “Answer my question, baby.” I let my hand slide slightly lower, precariously close to her pussy. When I grip again, she gasps. I’m sure my attention isn’t going unnoticed. I’d give anything to touch her pussy, but I’ll wait. It’s too soon for that. She’s not ready.
She whimpers.
“Claire…” I warn before I grip her neck and angle her so I can kiss her again. I hold her gaze this time, burning the image of my face into her memory so the only thing she’ll ever see when she kisses for the rest of her life will be my eyes.
I’m still holding her ass, and I press my fingers inches from her pussy as I suck her tongue gently and release it. “Who’s been inside this tight pussy, Claire?”
“No one,” she whispers.
I’m a smug bastard. A mental fist pump fills my mind. Maybe I could drag this perfect woman to my bedroom and never let her go. Is there a justice of the peace in this town? If there is, it’s probably Thomas McAndrews.
I want my ring on her finger. I want my sperm in her uterus. These are not thoughts I’ve ever entertained with a woman, and I have no idea why this is happening today. It’s Claire. She’s mine .
I growl possessively, unable to stop myself. After giving her one more quick kiss, I release my tight grip and steady her with my hands on her hips. “Shall we explore?”
She stares at me with wide eyes.
I smirk because it’s what I do with her. It’s what she expects from me. It makes her hot under the collar and feisty. I love it.
Making sure she’s not too wobbly but not giving her much time to contemplate the fact that I’m manipulating her, I take her hand and turn to lead her from the kitchen.
When I step into the hallway, I look both ways. I don’t have the foggiest idea where anything is in this strange estate. “Shall we go left or right?” I ask her.
“Ryder…”
I twist my head around and kiss her mouth again. “Left or right, baby?”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “Left?”
I turn in that direction.
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve heard that before.” I look in the first room. It seems to be a music room. There’s a piano and a harp. I step inside, not releasing Claire’s fingers. In fact, I thread our fingers together, locking her down with more conviction.
When I glance at her just inside the door, her eyes are wide, and her jaw is dropped. “Sheesh. A harp?” She steps in farther and tries to let go of me, but I’m not having it.
I have no idea where this possessive side of me has come from. I’ve never been so obsessed with a woman in my life. I’ve never had my heart racing and my cock permanently hard in the presence of any woman. I’ve certainly never felt the need to keep my cock contained like I do around Claire. In the past, if a woman came on to me, I wouldn’t hesitate to have sex with her. But this woman is my life. I won’t be fucking her the first time we’re together. I’ll be showing her what it means to be mine. Slowly and passionately, and not today.
“Ryder…” She gives her hand another tug. “We can’t explore if you don’t let me go. I want to look around.”
I pull her closer to me instead. “Maybe exploring is overrated,” I murmur.
She rolls her eyes. “It was your idea, and I need some space. You’re scrambling my brain.” She tries to pull her hand free again.
I bring our interlocked fingers to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. I don’t like the idea of releasing her. I don’t want to give her space. I’d rather remove some of the space between us. Our clothes are in my way.
But I need to be reasonable. After brushing my lips against her knuckles again, I release her.
Claire takes a step back and inhales deeply while she rubs her hands on her thighs. “Sheesh. When was the last time you got laid?” she mutters, looking down.
Give-Claire-space time is over. I round behind her, wrap my arms around her middle, and set my lips on her ear. I like this position. I especially like how her heart rate kicks up every time we’re in it. “I broke up with my last girlfriend three months ago. What we had was casual. We were basically scratching each other’s itch when it was convenient. Before her, over a year ago, I dated a woman for about a month. She was pretentious and thought my small apartment was beneath her. How far back do you want me to go?”
“That’s enough,” she whispers.
“I’ll answer any question you want, Claire. Any time.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “What do you do for a living? Why are you able to move to Wilde?”
“I’m a web designer. I have some pretty large clients. I work from home. There was nothing tethering me to New York. I felt like it was kismet that my rent went up at the same time I got the letter from the lawyer.”
“Mmm. Web designer. Interesting.”
We’re having a rare tender moment with neither of us fighting. I find I like this side of us just as much. “Do you play any instruments?” I ask, dragging us reluctantly back to the present.
“No, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“Then you should take lessons. Maybe there’s an instructor in town…?”
“Mrs. Larimor. She’s always taught piano. Not many kids in this town can afford lessons, though. I think she does it nearly for free.”
I kiss her neck. “We’ll look into it when you’re ready.”
When I release her and step back, she twists around and stares at me. Her chest rises and falls. Her hands are fisted at her sides. She’s baffled, not angry. She doesn’t even comment on my suggestion. She physically shakes it off and spins away, hurrying to put some distance between us.
“Everything is dusty,” she comments.
“I’m not surprised. This place is huge. There’s no way Gretchen can manage all the rooms on her own. The library was so dusty I thought I’d start sneezing.”
I glance toward the doorway as my brother leans into the room. He grabs the frame, filling it. “There you are.”
I realize these two weren’t really introduced. “Tiago, this is Claire. Claire, Tiago.”
Tiago nods in her direction. His dark hair is in a messy man bun. He’s wearing well-worn jeans and a tight T-shirt. I suppose we probably look alike except for hair color and the fact that his is much longer than mine.
“Tiago is an artist,” I inform Claire.
He steps more fully into the room. “Your family owns the bakery? I hope you don’t mind that I snagged one of the pastries from the kitchen. It was delicious.”
“Thank you. Yes.”
“Have you seen Gretchen?” I ask Tiago. “I want to let her know that Claire is staying for the day. Gretchen was telling me about lunch and dinner plans earlier, but I didn’t listen closely.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose. I should go,” Claire says.
I turn to look at her and shoot her a glare. “You’re not going anywhere.” I wish she weren’t going anywhere ever, but realistically, I will have to let her go home at some point. I won’t win any points with her parents if I take her to my bed and keep her all night.
I can’t believe I’m in a position where I’m having to worry about how a woman’s parents might feel about me dating their daughter. I haven’t met anyone’s parents in over a decade.
Tiago laughs. “Didn’t you two meet yesterday?”
I shift my glare from Claire to Tiago. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Nope. No problem at all. I’ll go find Gretchen and tell her there will be three for lunch and dinner. Should I tell her to serve mine in my room so you two can have the dining room to yourselves?” he jokes.
Claire gasps and covers her face with her hands. “Ryder…” Her embarrassment is as delightful as all her other emotions.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say as if we’re discussing a business luncheon instead of my possessive interest in Claire. “I’m sure Claire can keep her hands to herself long enough to eat.”
She drops her hands and groans. “Ryder! Stop it.”
I chuckle. Tiago and I haven’t spent much time together in recent years, but we’re cool with each other. I know he won’t judge me for falling hard and fast for a woman.
In fact, he’s amused. His chest is shaking as he chuckles quietly. “See you at lunch.” He turns and walks away.
Claire doesn’t move from where she’s standing several yards away. Light is streaming in the window, passing through the harp, and leaving long lines of shadow across her. She looks like an angel.
She glances at the door.
“You’re not leaving,” I growl.
“You can’t take over my life, Ryder. I’m a grown woman. I have responsibilities.”
“You don’t need to be anywhere today. You already let your parents know you were staying. I promise to release you from the magnetic pull early enough for you to get a good night’s rest before you have to work in the morning.”
“My brain is muddled,” she admits.
“That’s because you’re so into me you can’t focus,” I tease her.
“I think it’s the other way around,” she says, tilting her chin.
“Oh, baby, it goes both ways, I assure you.”
She crosses her arms and rubs her biceps. “Why do I think this is a bad idea? You’re going to have me so confused by the end of the day that I’ll be ruined for all other men.”
“I certainly hope so because there will be no other men.” I step toward her. I can’t resist.
She steps back. “You can’t really mean that. We just met. I’m like a shiny new toy. You’ll get bored and discard me, and I’ll be left with a broken heart, picking up the pieces.”
“Never.” I step closer again. I don’t know how I know that to be true, but I do. “Claire, never,” I add gently.
She unfolds her arms and rubs her temples.
“Give me a chance to prove myself,” I tell her. “I won’t let you down.”
“I’m worried it might even be worse if you’re telling me the truth.”
“Why’s that, baby?” I’m almost in her space again.
“Because I don’t know who I am when I’m near you.”
“Maybe you’re exactly who you were always meant to be. Maybe you’ve just found yourself.” I reach out a hand, wanting her to take it. I want her to come to me. She will. I’ll wait.