Chapter 16
Claire
I feel decidedly young as I wait for Ryder to come out of the bathroom. I forgot to take anything to put on after my shower, so I emerged wrapped in a towel. Ryder traded places with me, and as soon as I heard the water running, I hurried to the chest of drawers, opened the middle one, and grabbed one of his T-shirts.
That’s what I’m wearing now. That, and a pair of panties. I don’t own sexy panties, so I’m wearing plain cotton bikini bottoms. Maybe I should get something sexier. But like everything else I might want, I don’t need everyone in the town to know my business. I certainly don’t need a rumor mill going around that I went into one of the boutiques and bought lingerie.
I’ll have to get creative and order some things online like Ryder suggested. And then there’s the problem of money. I have a little savings, but not the kind of money I should be using to purchase sexy lingerie. That would be extravagant since my family is behind on rent and barely able to put food on the table.
I plug my phone into the charger on the nightstand next to me, pull the covers up to my chin, and stare at the ceiling. I turned out the lights, but it’s not pitch black or anything. The curtains on the window are aesthetic. There are no blinds.
Granted, we’re far enough out in the middle of nowhere that it will be pretty dark on nights with no moon, but tonight, there’s almost a full moon.
I flinch when the door to the bathroom opens. I can’t keep from watching Ryder as he approaches me. Also, my mouth goes completely dry. Damn, he’s ten times sexier in tight boxers. His legs…pecs…abs. Even his damp hair… Sheesh.
He pulls the covers back on his side of the bed, sets a knee on the mattress, and climbs up. I can’t even swallow as he slides into bed and props himself up on one elbow, facing me. He’s not touching me at all except with his gaze. The intensity makes me feel like he has enveloped me with his entire body.
“You look like you’re about to be led to your execution, Claire.”
I clear my throat and force myself to roll onto my side, facing him. “I do not.”
He smiles. “That’s better. I like it when you’re looking at me. Let’s address some of the concerns you expressed before you entered the bathroom.”
I wince. “Could we not? I was just rambling.”
“I want you to be able to talk to me, baby. About anything at any time. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not my equal. You will always be my equal. I may tease you and put on an act insinuating otherwise at times, but only because I like the way you get all ruffled when I do so.”
He reaches out and strokes my cheek. “You may be young, but you’re mature. You may not have the same experience I have in some areas, but that does not make you less. I’m sure there are things you can do that I can’t. Things you know about that I have no knowledge of.”
“Are you trying to equate rolling out pastry dough and pleasing a man in bed? Because those two things aren’t on the same playing field.”
He doesn’t make a joke. His brow is furrowed. For once, he’s serious. He licks his lips. “You know, I could just as easily worry that you won’t like the kinds of things I want to do to you.”
My breath hitches, and I whisper, “What kinds of things do you want to do to me?”
I love how he licks his lips again as his gaze moves down a few inches. He reaches for the covers at my hip and gives a slow tug, exposing my T-shirt-covered torso. He smiles, ignores my question, and asks, “Is that mine?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
His smile grows. “I kind of pictured you sleeping in one of those tight tank tops with no bra.”
I shrug. “You would ordinarily be right. That’s what I wear to bed, but that was before I could pull one of your shirts out of the dresser I share with my, uh…boyfriend.” I wince. That word sounds idiotic for a forty-year-old man. He is probably about to laugh at me.
His hand finds mine at my hip, and he threads our fingers together. “Why do you hesitate?”
I scrunch my nose. “I’m sure you’re too mature for the word boyfriend.”
“Definitely not. What else are you going to call me between now and when I drag you to the church?”
My breath hitches. “It’s definitely too soon for you to say something like that.”
“Why? Should I hide my intentions? I’ve been blunt with you since you showed up at my weird grandfather’s eccentric estate yesterday morning. I want you, Claire. I want my ring on your finger. I’m too old to pretend this is no big deal and dance around how I feel.”
I swallow. “That’s the thing. I’m not. I’m too young to entertain marriage and babies. Neither has ever crossed my mind.”
“That’s because you hadn’t met the right man. Now you have.” He gives me his cocky grin.
Is he right? It sure feels like it. Then again, it also feels like I’m playing house in this mansion. “You need to give me some time to wrap my head around this. It’s hard to believe what you’re saying could possibly be true. I need time to catch up.”
He brings our combined hands to his mouth and kisses my fingers before flattening my palm against his chest and holding it here. His hand is so much larger than mine that I almost can’t see my fingers under his.
I can feel his heart, though, and the look in his eyes is serious. His chest is warm. It’s covered with a fine dusting of hair. His body is fit, but it’s clearly a man’s body, not a boy’s. Most men my age aren’t as developed as him, and many don’t have any chest hair at all.
I stroke his chest with my fingers. I find myself incredibly attracted to his more mature body. It’s hard not to compare him to Smith since I saw the weasel last night. Smith is tall, but he’s still lanky and looks younger than his twenty-five years. Maybe he will never fill out. Maybe he’s just going to stay rail thin. I hope so. He’ll never be half the man I’m lying in bed with.
I feel kind of cocky about it, and I scoot closer to Ryder.
“What’s that smile about,” he whispers.
I shrug. “I like that you’re a man.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad I’m not a woman right now, too, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“Nope. I mean an actual man. Not a boy. You’re…bulky and solid, and it makes me feel dainty.” I shrug again. I’m rambling. That probably sounded weird.
He must not think so, though, because he doesn’t laugh. Instead, he leans his forehead against mine and says, “I like that, too, baby.”
“What if I don’t…please you?” I need to say these things, and he told me to be honest.
“You can’t not please me, Claire. It’s not a thing. You please me just by existing. Even lying next to you pleases me so much that my cock is hard.”
The covers are up to his waist, but I glance down anyway, wondering what he looks like under those briefs. The idea makes me shiver.
“Not tonight, Claire.”
I sigh. I’m giving myself whiplash from going back and forth on what I want. I’m nervous, but I want him at the same time.
“Why do you have to be so…perfect?”
He chuckles. “I’m far from perfect, Claire. I have faults. You just haven’t seen them all yet.”
“But you say the right things and make me so aroused. You’re not even touching me, really, yet my panties are wet.”
“I’m glad, baby. I’d be worried if I were the only one aroused when I’m with you.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Did you obey my instructions last night, or did you let your greedy fingers stroke your pussy after I told you not to?”
My face heats at his naughty words. I’m sure it’s intentional. He knows I blush when he talks to me like that. “I didn’t touch myself,” I whisper. “And you’re avoiding my question.”
“What question is that?” he asks innocently.
“Tell me what you want to do to me. Tell me so I won’t be surprised.”
“Mmm. I’d prefer to surprise you as often as possible, but how about if I tell you what I’d like to do to you right now?”
I bite my lip and nod. Dangerous territory. I asked for it.
He kisses me languidly and then leans back a few inches. “I’d like to pull that T-shirt off your body because it’s hiding everything. I’d rather you wear tank tops when we’re alone so I can see the outline of your breasts and the hard points of your nipples. I’d rather you sleep naked.”
I can’t breathe. He’s making the temperature in the room rise.
“After I remove that shirt, I’d like to hold your hands above your head and lean over to worship your breasts. I’d like to suck those pretty nipples into my mouth one at a time, back and forth, and flick the needy points with my tongue until you’re writhing.”
I’m panting softly, and my nipples are so hard they ache.
He doesn’t stop. “Are you wearing panties, baby?”
I nod.
“What color are they?”
“White,” I whisper.
He groans. “So pure and innocent and all mine. After I finish with your nipples, I want to climb between your legs, hold them open, and nuzzle your pussy over the wet cotton. I want to make you come without taking off your panties.”
I suck back a breath. “You could do that?” My voice is low and oddly hoarse.
“Mmm. Definitely.”
I believe him. Partly because he’s so confident, but also because I’m so aroused by the thought, I’m on the edge already. “I want that, Ryder.”
“You want me to make you come, baby?”
“Please…” I press my palm against his chest as concern crawls into my brain. “Wait, that’s not fair, is it?”
“Fair?”
I lick my lips. “I mean, I should do the same to you.”
He shakes his head. “We won’t be keeping score, baby. I’ll win every time. Making you come will be my pleasure as many times as I get the opportunity every day. I will never expect reciprocation. For now, I want you to focus on how good it feels when I touch you. It will help you know how strongly I feel about you. Nothing will ever please me more than watching you come.”
I stare at him. He’s being totally serious.
He brings my fingers to his lips again, kisses the tips, and then sucks the middle one into his mouth. He holds my gaze the entire time, sucking deeper and swirling his tongue around my finger.
It’s so erotic that my heart is beating out of my chest.
When he releases my finger with a pop, he asks, “Do you want that, baby?”
“Yes,” I breathe out without hesitating. I want that. I want it more than I want my next breath. I want to know what it will feel like to come with his mouth on me. The thought of him putting his mouth against my pussy seems so naughty. I don’t want to sound absurdly na?ve, so I don’t mention it, but I assumed that sort of thing mostly happened in books.