Chapter 15
I can barely concentrate on the piles of paperwork in front of me because I can’t stop thinking about the things I’m going to do to him.
I set the boundary of no cuddling, and I’m confident he won’t cross that line again.
So, now I get to enjoy having him without the awkwardness.
I have to clean myself up for my hot date tonight too, so by the time he leaves my apartment, I am already in the shower, shaving, plucking, and making myself look as perfect as can be.
When I get to his house, the sun is already down. I feel fidgety as I walk in, clutching my bag with the change of clothes I brought. Apparently, I'm optimistic that I'll be staying the night this time.
Ryan is in joggers and a snug henley that does unfair things to his biceps. His face lights up when he sees me.
I hold up my bag. “Mind if I put this in the guestroom?”
He waves me toward the hallway. “It’s your room. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks.” I waltz past him, excited that I’ll taste like vanilla tonight.
Which I did on purpose. The last time I went grocery shopping, I stopped in the beauty aisle and smelled all the vanilla lotions to exist on the shelf.
I pick my favorite, and here I am, smelling basic as ever in hopes to make him laugh.
I may have smothered my lips with vanilla scented Chapstick too. Oops.
I place the bag in the guestroom, not my room, and take a deep breath. Tonight is about sex, plain and simple. No emotions, no expectations. Just two friends having fun. We’re practicing for future relationships. I can do this.
I check myself in the mirror and face the people-pleaser waiting for me in the living room.
Then the doorbell rings. “Food’s here!”
Dinner is tacos from our favorite spot downtown. We eat at the kitchen counter, playfully arguing about the best Fast & Furious movie and whether pineapple belongs on pizza (hard no from Ryan, the unrefined heathen).
This is nice. Easy. Just like old times, before the complication of cuddling (or was it sex?) entered the equation. Being with Ryan has always been the most natural thing in my life. As necessary as breathing.
I can feel Ryan's eyes on me as I lick a drop of salsa from my finger, tracking the movement of my lips around my straw when I take a sip of water.
By the time we finish eating, my skin feels too tight. And when Ryan takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom without a word, I shiver despite the warmth of his skin.
We're barely through the door before he's pulling me into a deep, hungry kiss. I sink into him with a moan, wrapping my arms around his neck. Yes, this. This is what I need. No thinking, no overanalyzing. Just sensation and instinct and Ryan.
He walks me back toward the bed, his hands already sneaking under my shirt.
I let him strip it off and then his own, greedy for the feel of his skin on mine.
He's so solid, the muscles of his chest and shoulders flexing as he lowers me to the mattress.
I run my hands over him, mapping the dips and curves.
He kisses his way down my throat, scraping his teeth over my collarbone before moving lower. My back arches as he takes one nipple into his hot mouth, sucking hard through the thin lace of my bra.
“Ryan,” I gasp, my hands flying to his hair. “Oh god.”
I can feel his smile against my nipple. “Is this okay?” he rasps, switching to lavish attention on the other side. The material is thin enough to make this feel so fucking good.
I make a garbled sound of encouragement, too turned on to form actual words. He's barely touched me, and I'm already so turned on. So desperate.
“You taste so good.”
I smile, grabbing his locks through my fingers.
“Like vanilla,” he chuckles, looking up at me. “Are you?” In a swift movement, he’s licking my cleavage. My back arches, pushing my chest further into his face. “You taste like vanilla, Ads.”
I throw my head back, laughing.
He reaches behind to unclasp my bra and toss it aside. And then his mouth is back on me, licking and sucking while his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my shorts.
I nearly convulse when he finds the spot, circling and teasing with pressure. My nails dig into his shoulders, my hips rocking shamelessly against his hand.
“Baddie,” he groans, working a long finger inside me. “I love how much you want it. Want me.”
I feel my inner muscles clench around him, drawing him deeper. “I do,” I pant. “I want you so much. All the time.”
It's too honest, maybe crossing another unspoken line, but I can't hold back. Not with his fingers pumping in and out of me, his tongue flicking over my nipple, his hard dick pressing insistently against my thigh.
His thumb rubs me again and I see stars, my body bowing off the bed. “Ryan.”
He kisses me, his fingers trailing over my sensitive skin.
I reach between us to palm his erection through his joggers. I pull him to me as if he were already naked. He grunts, his hips flexing into my touch. I attempt to pull his dick out.
“Give a guy a second,” he says with a shaky laugh.
I grin up at him. “What's the matter, Wilder? Can't keep up?”
His eyes darken, a wicked smile spreading over his face. He slips out of his clothes, and I love the sight of him. “Oh, I'll show you keeping up.”
He kisses me again, deep and needy, before pressing his naked body against me. He hooks his fingers in my shorts and peels them off, taking my underwear with them.
He says, “What did you say again? You’re going to give me a wilder puck?”
I smile, grabbing his hard dick. “Hm, I thought you’d like to have another go at vanilla?”
He smiles at my teasing. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Did you seriously only have missionary sex? Please be honest.”
“Not like ever, but nine times out of ten, yes.”
I laugh and cover my mouth. “Why?”
“Well, I don’t know. According to someone I know, apparently, I’m really good at it.”
I grab onto his neck and whisper, “Tonight I’ll let you, you know, in every position. Can you handle that?”
“Come here,” he growls, gripping my hips and rolling over to position me on top of him. He looks up at me and says, “I don’t know how long I can last, but I’ll try to keep it together for–” He eyes my body. “Every position.”
I chuckle. “You are too honest, Ry.”
“Does that kill the mood?” he jokes, squeezing my ass and pressing himself against me.
“No,” I smile because it’s the truth. Everything about this is comfortable and hot as hell. I lean down, peck his lips, and whisper, “I’m going to ride you like my life depends on it.”
The look in his eyes is like I just hypnotized him. I reach between us and guide him into me, rubbing the broad head of him as I rock my hips.
We moan in unison as I start to sink down, my body stretching to accommodate the hard, thick length of him. I take him inch by inch until I'm fully seated, the delicious ache of being so full shuddering through me.
For a moment, we just breathe together, adjusting to the feeling. And then I start to move, grinding and rocking in a slow rhythm. Ryan's hands clench on my hips, guiding my movements as he thrusts up to meet me.
“Baddie, you feel too good,” he grits out. “So fucking good. So perfect.”
“You do too,” I gasp, bracing my hands on his chest for leverage as I ride him harder. “So good. Don't stop.”
I ride him, and he is in pure ecstasy watching me on top. His head falls back with a moan as my thighs start to tremble.
“I’m going to turn around,” I say.
He nods, pausing his movements. I spin on his dick until I’m comfortable, reverse cowgirl style. He grips my ass, pressing further into me as I cry out.
“Fuck, Ads,” he groans, pushing further into me. “Holy fuck.”
I rock my hips and grind on him until he sits up and says, “I want to see your face.”
It’s those words that make me ache even more.
He grabs my jaw and kisses me as I dance on him like this for a few minutes.
Then he lifts me up and drops me on the bed.
I’m on all fours as he enters me again. His deep groan alongside the sensation of the new position sends me.
He starts pumping into me, and I’m moaning in pleasure.
Ryan snakes a hand around my waist. I cry out as he presses his fingers against me, the calluses on his fingers building more pressure. I bounce my ass against him, riding his dick from this position.
“Shit, Ads,” he coaxes, his voice rough with strain. “You are so sexy.” He grabs my ass with his other hand.
It's the talking that does it. Something about the compliment in his gravelly sex-voice just destroys me. I fly apart with a broken sob of his name, my inner muscles clamping down on him. My face falls into the bed to muffle my screams.
“Fuck, Addie.” He’s grinding deep as he finds his own release. I feel him pulsing inside me as we ride out the waves together, clinging to each other.
He collapses on my back, boneless and spent. And then he rolls to the side and cradles me close, pressing absent kisses to my hair as we catch our breath. It takes a long time for my heart rate to slow, for the haze of bliss to recede.
I press a kiss to his chest and carefully extricate myself, rolling to the side before I can do something stupid like burrow in deeper. Ryan makes a noise of protest, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment before he lets me go.
Silence stretches as we lay side by side, not quite touching. I'm suddenly achingly aware of his naked body so close to mine.
“So,” I say, staring at the ceiling. “That happened.”
Ryan huffs a laugh. “It certainly did.”
“We didn’t do every position like I had planned.”
He smiles. “I didn’t turn you around to see your face like I had planned.”
I turn my head to look at him and smile. “Do you think–”
“Are you–”
We start at the same time and then break off with matching awkward chuckles. Ryan rolls onto his side to face me, propping his head on his hand.
“You go first.”
I bite my lip, staring at the ceiling. “I was just wondering…are you planning to date?”