Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
noia
The moment Ryder’s arms wrap around me, everything and everyone else in the room disappears. His big hands settle on my hips, pulling me in close. As we sway to the music, the heat from his body seeps through the thin fabric of my dress, making my skin tingle.
“You’re playing with fire wearing this dress,” he murmurs, breath hot against my ear.
I tilt my head back to look at him, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as my body melts into his. “Maybe that’s what I want.”
His gray eyes darken, and his grip on my hips tightens. “Careful, kitten. You’re about to find out exactly how hot things can get.”
The song shifts to something more sensual, and Ryder pulls me even closer. My breasts are smashed against his chest, and I can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. His hands drift lower, fingers tracing the edge of my ass, making me shiver.
“You’re not playing fair,” I pant.
“Neither are you,” he growls back, his lips brushing against my temple. “The way you look tonight should be illegal.”
“A little heavy on the cliché’s tonight, aren’t we?”
But he just keeps looking at me like I’m the only woman in the world as everything around us fades away.
“Rye,” I breathe, not sure what I’m asking for.
“I know,” he says, and I know he can hear the need in my voice. “Not yet.”
The song ends, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor, past the bar and into a quieter corner.
“Having fun?” he asks, voice tight.
“More than I thought I would,” I admit, smoothing down my dress with shaky hands. “Your friends are great.”
“They like you.” He takes my hand and starts tracing circles on my wrist with his thumb. “Pretty sure Claire has already come up with a plan to adopt you.”
My laugh comes out breathless. “She’s protective of you.”
“Yes. They all are.” His expression grows serious. “This…” He gestures between us. “…means something to them—to me.”
Before I can respond, Sasha reappears with Jax, both looking slightly disheveled and grinning like a couple of teenagers.
“Having fun?” Sasha asks, though her attention is clearly divided between me and the tall, dark-haired man beside her.
“Sure am,” I say, doing my best to ignore the way Ryder’s thumb is still stroking my wrist.
“Good,” Jax grins. “Claire’s about to give her speech, and then the real party begins.”
As if summoned, Claire appears on the small stage at the front of the room, music fading away as she taps the microphone.
“Ladies and degenerates,” she smiles. “Welcome to Skin & Ink’s tenth anniversary party!”
Cheers erupt, and Ryder’s hand squeezes mine.
“Ten years ago, two young idiots with more talent than sense decided to open a tattoo shop,” Claire continues. Her gaze finds Ryder and Jax in the crowd. “One a former Marine with anger issues who couldn’t watch someone get their ears pierced without fainting—”
“For fuck’s sake,” Ryder mutters with affection in his voice.
“—and the other was a college dropout who couldn’t even tattoo a fucking dot.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd as Jax nods and grins, raising his beer in affirmation.
“But somehow, against all odds, these two knuckleheads managed to build something special. Something that’s become more than just a business—it’s family.
” Claire’s voice softens. “I’ve watched these two grow from talented but clueless apprentices into artists who change lives with their work.
Amazing humans who help people to reclaim their bodies, tell their stories, and heal. ”
The sincerity in her voice makes my throat tighten. These people, this place, what they’ve built together—what Ryder has built—is as real as it gets.
Claire raises her glass. “To Ryder and Jax, who turned a dump into a dynasty. To our clients, who trust us with their stories. And to ten more years of tattoos, inspiration, and insanity!”
The room erupts in cheers as everyone raises their glasses and Ryder slides his arm around my waist, pulling me close as he tips back his drink.
“Speech!” someone shouts from the crowd, and soon the entire room is chanting, “Speech! Speech!”
Ryder groans. “I hate speaking in public.”
“Go on,” I nudge him. “You’ve got this.”
With a resigned sigh, he squeezes my hip before making his way to the stage. The crowd parts and I watch, mesmerized, as he takes the microphone from Claire.
“I’ll keep this short,” he says, voice deep and commanding. Then he clears his throat. “I’m not big on speeches.”
The crowd laughs, and I see his shoulders relax.
“A little over ten years ago, I was in a really bad place. Angry. Lost.” His eyes find mine across the room. “Claire took a chance on me when no one else would. Jax believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.”
He pauses, clearing his throat. “Skin & Ink isn’t just a business. It’s home. It’s family. And every person in this room has been part of that in some form or another.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. This is a side of him I’ve never seen—vulnerable, grateful, humble.
“So, thank you,” he continues. “For trusting us with your stories, your skin, and your friendship. Here’s to ten more years.”
The crowd erupts in applause as he hands the microphone back to Claire and steps off the stage. When he’s back by my side, I can’t help but smile up at him.
“That was beautiful,” I say softly.
“It was fucking terrifying,” he huffs, but his lips quirk up at the corners.
I look back at the crowd moving back onto the dance floor as the music starts up again.
My neck tingles and I glance up to find Ryder watching me.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’m just... I’m glad you’re here.”
The simple honesty in his voice makes my heart stutter.
“Me too,” I whisper.
“Come on,” Ryder says, his voice dropping to a lower register, making my insides turn to liquid. “Let’s play a game.”
His hand engulfs mine, and before I realize what is happening, he’s leading me through the crowd to the back of the room where a line of dart boards are mounted along the wall.
“I’ve never really played darts before.”
Ryder’s lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile. “Perfect. Then I can teach you.”
The way he says it—like he’s planning something wicked—makes my pulse race.
Plucking four darts from the board, he weighs them in his palm as he turns to me. “It’s all about stance and follow-through.”
“I’m wearing heels,” I protest weakly.
“I noticed.” His eyes rake down my body, lingering on my legs before flicking back up. “Trust me, they’re not going to be a problem.”
He positions me in front of the line marked on the floor, then moves behind me. The heat of his body engulfs me right off the bat as his chest presses against my back, allowing me to feel every hard plane of muscle.
“Now. You’re going to hold it like this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as he places a dart in my hand. His fingers close around mine, adjusting my grip. “Not too tight.”
I swallow hard, trying to focus on the weight of the dart and not his proximity.
“Now, pull back...” One hand guides mine, while the other settles on my hip. “And release.”
I throw the dart, but I’m so distracted that it veers wildly off course, missing the board entirely, bouncing off the brick and falling to the floor.
“Oops,” I laugh nervously.
“Let’s try again.” He shifts but doesn’t move away. If anything, he presses in closer, aligning his hips with mine.
The dart flies out of my hand, landing nowhere near the bullseye. I barely notice, too distracted by the way his thumb is now making slow circles on my hip.
“Again,” he orders, his voice a rumble vibrating over my body.
He hands over another dart, but this time when I pull my arm back, his lips brush against the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I almost drop it.
“Focus, kitten,” he chuckles, his stubble grazing my neck. “Keep your eyes on the target.”
When his hand slides from my hip to splay across my stomach, pulling me even tighter against him, I can feel his rigid cock pressing into my lower back.
“Ryder,” I breathe, my voice embarrassingly shaky.
“Mmmm?” His innocent tone doesn’t match how his thumb is tracing the underside of my breast through my dress.
“You’re slow-burning me again.”
His low chuckle sends another wave of heat straight to my core. “Is that what I’m doing?”
I try to turn, but he holds me firmly in place, tightening his grip.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he warns. “We’re not done with your lesson quite yet. You’ll get your reward soon enough.”
The next dart flies even wider than the others, clattering to the floor as my concentration completely dissolves under his touch.
“Pretty sure I’m a lost cause,” I sigh dramatically, leaning back against his solid chest and turning my head slightly so I can look up at him.
“Never,” he growls, sliding his hand to rest just above the hem of my dress. “You just need more practice.”
His gray eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me and end this exquisite torture, but he steps away instead.
“How about you take a turn?” I ask. “Maybe I can learn from watching how you do it.”
Ryder takes his position on the line. It’s clear he’s done this countless times before. He rolls his shoulders, muscles flexing as he narrows his eyes at the target.
Shifting his stance, he raises his arm and throws.
The first dart strikes the bullseye with a soft thud. One after the other, he throws the second, then the third in rapid succession, each one landing somewhere inside the inner ring.
Damn, that’s hot.
In an attempt to refocus, I scan the room for Sasha and realize she’s disappeared. I search the bar, the dance floor, even the corners where people are chatting, but there’s no sign of her flaming red hair anywhere. Come to think of it, Jax is missing, too.
I grin to myself. They’ve probably snuck off together.
Ryder’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “What’re you grinning about?”