Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
noia
I hold up the tiny pink pair of pajama shorts, scanning it with a critical eye. If Ryder plans on slow-burning me this morning, I might as well start things off with a bang.
Sasha always takes a shower right after she gets up; it’s the only way she can get her ass in gear. So, while she’s up here? I’m going to go down there and slow-burn his ass first.
Rummaging through my top drawer, I find a thin, white, practically see-through, tiny cutoff tank. I pull it on and turn to check my profile in the full-length mirror.
Nipples pebbled with excitement, my areolas are a little on the dark side, so I can just make out the circular rim through the fabric.
I run my hands through my hair to give it that ‘just rolled out of bed’ look, then pinch my cheeks for a little color. Perfect. With one last glance in the mirror, I head downstairs.
Ryder is sitting at the kitchen island with his broad back facing me. Only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, his muscular shoulders and tattooed arms are on full display. His attention is focused on the book I picked for him, per his request at the bookstore.
Damn. Men that read are so fucking sexy. And men that read romance? A whole other level.
I take my time, making sure to stretch a little higher than necessary as I reach for a mug from the cabinet. This causes my tank to ride up, exposing the under part of my boob. Cool air brushes against my skin, making goosebumps rise across my flesh.
Thankfully, the coffeepot is still hot and I pour myself a cup, take a small sip and let out a soft, satisfied moan.
Behind me, I hear a low growl and mentally give myself a fist bump before slowly turning around.
Ryder is staring me down, eyes full of fire.
His gaze drops to my chest, then quickly back to my face before he drags it from my toes to my tits. The intensity of how he is studying me makes my nipples tighten even harder against the thin fabric.
“What do you think you’re doing, kitten?” he growls.
His voice is rough and dangerous and I have to fight not to clench my thighs together in response.
Forcing the shiver away, I give him an innocent blink as I take another sip of my coffee. “Whatever do you mean, Rye?”
His jaw flexes as he slowly closes the book and sets it aside.
Rising from the stool, he rounds the island with predatory grace, keeping his eyes locked with mine.
As he stands before me, he’s so close, the fresh scent of his sandalwood body wash assaults my nose. His storm gray eyes are dark and his pupils are blown, with a fire burning in their depths that practically turns my legs to jelly.
His voice drops to a murmur as his fingers brush against my bare arm. “You know exactly what I mean.”
I swallow hard, doing everything I can to maintain my composure. “I’m just having my morning coffee.”
“Dressed in that?” His eyes flick down to my barely there outfit again. “Where’s your robe?”
Ignoring his last question, I ask, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I flutter my lashes, attempting to feign innocence, all while fighting to keep my breathing steady.
“Nothing,” he answers, taking the mug from my hand and setting it on the counter away from me. The movement brings him even closer. “In fact, I think it’s perfect.”
My breath catches as his hand comes up, fingers tracing the curve of my collarbone, then slowly trails them down my arm, leaving a riot of goosebumps in their wake.
The shower turns on upstairs and Ryder’s eyes flick up, then back down to mine. A slow smirk pulls at his lips.
Then his hands grip my waist, and before I’m able to process what is happening, he effortlessly lifts me up and onto the counter. My bare thighs hit the cool marble, making me gasp.
“You think you can just come down here and pull a slow-burn on me?” he murmurs as his fingers start tracing light, maddening circles on my thighs.
His touch sends sparks of electricity up my legs and straight to my core, making my breath hitch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I squeak.
He leans in until his lips are a whisper away. “Two can play, kitten.”
Oh, shit.
Then his mouth, hot and demanding, crashes down on mine. His tongue forces its way past my lips, claiming my mouth as he explores.
What started out as gentle circles, turns to fingers digging into flesh as he shoves my legs wide open and steps between them.
Just as I thread my fingers through his hair and arch into him, he breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping, my lips tingling as my body aches for more.
Then, without warning, he bends down and hoists me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?!” I yelp.
Blood rushes to my head, and all I can see is his firm, muscular ass. The only response I get is a grunt as he secures one arm tight around my thighs.
Palming his other hand on my ass, he squeezes, then gives it a smack, forcing another yelp from my throat as he takes the stairs, two at a time.
When we get to my bedroom, he stalks inside and deposits me unceremoniously on my feet in the middle of the floor.
Disoriented from being suddenly upright again, I can only stand there and wobble as his eyes rake over me, blazing with heat and something along the lines of triumph.
His sweats ride low on his hips, showing off the vee in the middle of his tapered waist. And he’s hard.
“Get dressed, Noia,” he orders, voice low and controlled as he shoves a hand through his already disheveled hair.
Then he turns and walks out, closing the door firmly behind him.
Mouth open in shock, my heart pounds as my body continues to thrum with need.
“What the… Jerk!” I finally sputter, stomping my foot in frustration.
The shower down the hall shuts off, and I hear Sasha humming to herself.
Shit! I need to pull myself together before she sees me like this.
Stalking into my closet to grab the first thing I can find, I pull on a sports bra—which will force my nipples into submission—then tug on a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater.
Damn if giving me a taste of my own medicine didn’t work perfectly. Now I’m the one left wanting again, my body still tingling from his touch.
By the time Sasha knocks on my door, I’ve managed to tame my hair and somewhat calm my breathing.
“Come in!”
“Was that Ryder I just saw stalking down the hall with resting murder all over his face?” she asks as she steps into the room.
Eyebrows raised, she has her hands on her hips. “And why does your face look like it just got caught with its nose in the cookie jar?”
I smooth my hands over my jeans, trying to regain my composure. “He just... We were just... Ugh!”
Sasha’s eyes pop. “Oh. My. God. You pulled a slow-burn on him while I was in the shower, didn’t you? You little slut monkey!”
“Maybe.” I collapse onto my bed. “And it was working too—until he turned the tables on me, again.”
“Details.”
With an exasperated sigh, I let ‘er rip.
“I put on a skimpy pair of shorts and a tank top that was virtually see through and went down to mess with him. But he just lifted me onto the counter, kissed me senseless, then literally through me over his shoulder, carried me upstairs, dumped me in the middle of the floor and growled at me to get dressed.”
I groan. “Then he left.”
Grabbing a pillow, I bury my face in it. “This slow-burn game is torture.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Sasha laughs, sitting next to me on the bed. “All I know is that this is the best form of entertainment I’ve had in months. Maybe my whole life, actually.”
“I’m so glad my sexual frustration amuses you,” I mutter into the pillow as I flop back onto the bed.
“Oh it does. It definitely does,” she grins as she flops onto the bed beside me. “But I’ll bet he’s just as frustrated as you are.” She barks out a laugh. “Pretty sure I saw just how frustrated he is, too. Caught a glimpse of… Well, let’s just say… Congratulations?”
I toss the pillow at her head. “Fuck’s sake, Sash.”
She swats it aside. “So, what’s the plan now? Because from where I’m sitting, it hella looks like he’s winning.”