11. Chapter 10
RYAN
“Ry,” Devon deadpanned, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “This isn’t okay.”
“Shut up. You said you’d help me.” I shot him a glare, my arm curled protectively around Mr. Thorne as he leaned against me.
His body was warm, even after being outside in the cold.
He’d slumped slightly, head tipped toward me, smelling unfairly good for someone unconscious.
From here, I could see the perfect line of his jaw, the way his dark brows framed his face, and his lashes, long enough to cast shadows.
His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times while waiting for me.
When his head tipped onto my shoulder, I bit my lip. I shifted him toward the window, but he made a low, content sound in his throat that shot straight down my spine.
Fuck.
I couldn’t help myself, I reached to undo the top button of his shirt.
Devon caught me in the rearview mirror. “The hell are you doing?” His voice sharpened as we neared our destination. “Please don’t do that shit, Ry.”
“What? I’m not doing anything.”
“No?” He scoffed. “You’re practically groping the man. Jesus. What did I sign up for?”
I popped another button before stopping, my hand lingering just above his chest. His pecs were firm under the fabric.
“Stop,” Devon said flatly. “I promised to help you get him home, not… whatever the fuck this is.”
I rolled my eyes and sat back, but his heat still clung to me.
He wasn’t mine.
Not yet.
Not until I saved him from the baby trap.
“Thanks for helping me, Dev.” I forced a sweet smile, my voice dripping with flirtation. He didn’t bite, just looked irritated.
“Cut it out. Don’t flirt when I know damn well you’re probably fucking that dude.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “And by the way? This shit isn’t normal. I don’t know how you think this is gonna play out, Ry.”
I laughed under my breath. “What do you know about normal, Dev?”
“I know not to kidnap some guy just because I wanna fuck him.”
“I’m just taking him home.” My fingers brushed Nathan’s sleeve, feeling the solid weight of his arm. The weight of a man in his prime. He even smelled good.
“ Just taking him home,” Devon muttered.
“You’re one to complain. I helped you with your booty call, now you help me.”
“I’m helping you because you taught me what a good blowjob feels like. Don’t twist it.” He shook his head, his eyes flicking to Nathan. “Why drug him anyway?”
“Eyes on the road. And mind your own business.”
He grumbled but let it drop.
I turned back to Mr. Thorne.
No… Nathan .
His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
I wanted a baby.
My teeth clenched, replaying his wife’s voice from earlier, soft, pleading, asking about starting a family.
A wife was bad enough. You could divorce a wife. That wasn’t forever.
But a wife and kids? That was a life sentence. No matter what, part of him would always belong to someone else, and the thought made my stomach burn.
“I think we’re here,” Devon said, glancing at the GPS. “Wait, Ry… is this—?”
“Yes. His house.”
“Okay.” Devon parked and got out, moving around to help me. “Jesus, he’s heavy.”
“He’s built. Muscular.” I smirked. Devon rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah.”
We carried him inside, down the hall, into the bedroom. Devon dropped him onto the mattress with a grunt.
“Okay, good. Let’s head out.” He grabbed his jacket.
“Thanks for the help. Bye.” I waved him off, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Nathan sleep.
Devon froze mid-step. “You’re… staying? He’s out cold, Ry. I gave him a lot of that shit.”
“I know. That’s the point.”
His eyes narrowed. “Want me to stay too? In case he—”
“No, leave. This won’t work if you’re here.”
“What won’t? Ry, you’re tripping me out.”
“Just leave.”
He let out a sharp breath. “Listen, I didn’t want to do this in the first place. I didn’t ask why you wanted to drug your pervert teacher, and I didn’t care because I thought we’d drop him off, that’s it. Now you want to stay? For what?”
I checked the time. Almost midnight. She’d be here any minute. Cutting it close.
“Leave. Just leave. I’ll explain later, moron.”
Devon’s jaw worked. “I’m staying. No offense, I don’t trust you.”
“Trust me? What the fuck do you think I’m going to do, rape him? Are you stupid?”
He clenched his jaw. “Ry, you get… really intense. Forgive me for being wary.”
“Intense? Fuck you. You want to know something, Devon, you—”
“Hon’?”
The voice didn’t come from outside, it came from inside the house.
I froze.
It echoed down the hall, too close, too casual.
Why was she home so early?
Footsteps followed; slow, deliberate, heels ticking against the hardwood. Each one louder than the last.
I scrambled to Nathan’s side, my fingers fumbling over his shirt buttons. My heartbeat slammed in my ears.
“Who the fuck is that?” Devon hissed.
“His wife. Help me,” I snapped, barely above a whisper.
“His wife? We need to get out of here. He’s married? Did you know?” Devon’s voice pitched higher with panic. “What the hell are you doing? Let’s go.”
“You go. You’re ruining this for me.”
Her steps didn’t stop. They paused. Right outside the bedroom door.
Devon scrubbed his hands over his face. “What’s going on?”
The doorknob shifted.
Shit.
I shoved Nathan’s pants down before Devon could open his mouth. He froze mid-step, eyes darting to the door, then back to me.
“She’s coming closer,” he hissed.
I didn’t look up. I stripped Nathan to his boxers, my fingers already hooked in the waistband.
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?” Devon’s voice was a low growl.
The heels retreated down the stairs. Tile clicks. Cupboard doors. A glass clinked against the counter.
Perfect.
I yanked the boxers down. Nathan’s cock sprang free. Devon groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face like he could wipe the image away.
“You’re a psycho. You’re a fucking psycho.”
Nathan’s shirt and pants landed on the floor, scattered far enough to be obvious. Then I started on my own clothes. Not hurried. Deliberate. Each piece flung somewhere different, creating a trail that screamed this was messy and hot.
“Ry—” Devon started.
“Leave.”
“She’s literally—”
“Leave, Dev.”
The heels were on the stairs again. Closer. Measured.
Devon’s panic spiked. “She’s coming—”
“Then hide.”
He blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. I gestured sharply at the closet. He shook his head. The door handle rattled. Devon’s eyes went wide, and he darted behind the bedroom door. Too obvious. I pointed at the bed. He mouthed no fucking way.
“Yes way,” I mouthed back.
The footsteps were just outside. Devon dropped flat, sliding under the bed like a guilty dog just as I yanked the last of my clothes off and tossed them over a chair.
“Turn the lights off,” I hissed.
“No—”
“Devon!”
From under the bed, a muttered curse, then I heard him crawl out, and darkness swallowed the room.
I slid under the covers, curling into Nathan’s warm, bare body. My hand splayed on his chest. I lowered my mouth to his neck and sucked hard until the skin flushed and heated beneath my lips. A mark she wouldn’t be able to ignore.
The door creaked open.
“Nathan?” Her voice was sugar, poured slow. “Are you sleeping, sleepyhead?”
She didn’t flick the switch. Just moved into the bathroom, water running, cabinets opening and closing.
From under the bed came a muffled, “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Shut up,” I breathed back.
The bathroom door opened, spilling yellow light across the floor. She padded toward my side of the bed and bumped into me. Froze.
“Nathan, move, this is my side.”
“Mm… round five in the morning,” I mumbled, letting my voice drag on purpose.
The mattress dipped suddenly, Devon’s weight shifting underneath just as she clicked the light on.
Her gaze locked on me first: naked, sheets barely covering my hips, pressed against her unconscious husband. Her eyes flicked to the clothes littering the floor. The trail. Then down to Nathan, his bare skin, the mark blooming on his neck.
Her face went chalk-white before flushing deep red. “Who the hell are you?”
I blinked at her, feigning confusion. “Oh shit. Are you his ex-wife?”
Her voice cracked. “Ex—? That’s what he told you? I’m his wife. Nathan, wake up! You piece of shit!”
Nathan didn’t stir.
Her hands curled into fists. “Oh my god. I fucking knew it! He was cheating….you fucked my husband, you-you little—.”
I smiled sweetly. “Please keep your voice down. He took something for his headache after all those rounds. Well, you know…”
Her voice went razor-sharp. “Oh, I know exactly why he’s got a headache. Because he’s a cheating asshole. And you—” she jabbed a finger at me, “you’re a fucking homewrecker.”
From under the bed, Devon’s low, “Jesus Christ,” was muffled by the mattress, but I caught it.
Her voice broke before it sharpened. “Have fun with him. He’s a cheating asshole!”
I smiled wider, slow and sweet, like this was all some private joke. “I don’t mind.”
That did it. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh burst from her before she spun on her heel. The hard crack of her heels hit the floor like gunfire, every step a countdown to the end of their marriage.
Then the front door slammed so hard the frame shuddered.
Silence fell… heavy, perfect. My heart beat steadily, unhurried. I’d done it.
I giggled. Couldn’t help it. He was mine now.
Dust shifted as Devon slid out from under the bed, crouched low like he wasn’t sure if I was dangerous or just deranged. His expression was pure disbelief.
“You are… completely fucked up, Ry.”
I stretched, letting the sheet slip just enough to make my point. “Worked, didn’t it?”
He blinked at me, almost stunned. “That’s… wow. That’s insane. Has he even fucked you yet?”
“Not yet.” I let the grin spread slowly, savoring it.
He gave a dry, humorless laugh. “God, I am so glad I’m not hung up on you anymore. You are fucking batshit.”
“Then you should’ve left.”
He bent to grab his keys, shaking his head like he’d just witnessed a crime scene. “Man, I feel a bit guilty now. I called him a piece of shit. Fuck, and I’m the one who assisted in fucking up his marriage.”
He turned, giving me one last look of disappointment, “You're ruining his life, Ry.” He opened the door to leave, “Just…be mindful of others, it’s not always about you.”
I turned back toward Nathan’s warm body, my fingers resting over his heartbeat. Ruining? No.
I smiled to myself, eyes closing, letting the image replay in my mind, her face, that sound of the door slamming, the perfect, clean break.
“I’m saving him,” I murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. “And he’ll thank me for it.”