Chapter 19
Violet
Mum’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer until I could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing against my back.
I kept still, letting the warmth seep into me like a blanket.
I couldn’t remember the last time mum actually hugged me.
Probably when I was a little girl crying over a nightmare I didn’t understand. Or maybe when I scraped my knee.
I knew she loved me, even if physical affection wasn’t her way of showing it.
Touch seemed to cost her something, like she had to wrestle herself just to lift a hand to my cheek.
The only time she ever reached for me without hesitation was when she wanted to brush my hair, as if that small act was the one kind of intimacy she could give freely.
I wriggled back a little, wanting to embrace this moment for as long as possible. The hand on my waist pressed down. Firm, and almost possessive as it pulled me tighter against something solid.
I was sure mum never felt this big. Or hard.
“Keep that up, blondie, and you’ll wake up something else,” a low, sleepy chuckle whispered in my ear.
The sound jolted through me like an electric shock. I lurched forward, flinging myself out of Ryder’s grasp. My arms shoved backward blindly, so hard that I tumbled off the mattress and hit the floor with a thud.
Behind me, Ryder laughed so hard it rocked the entire bed-frame.
He sat up, his smirk and dimples in place. “Morning,” he sang, and every single detail of the night before came rushing back.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, scrambling to my feet.
Ryder lounged back against the headboard, hands laced behind his head. He was dressed, thankfully, except for his chest. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mused. “I didn’t fuck you. Even though you begged for it.”
My cheeks were burning so bad, I half-expected to spontaneously combust. “You shouldn’t have touched me at all!”
“Correction, you touched yourself. I just… lent a hand.” His right brow arched, that infuriating smirk still in place.“At your insistence, might I add.”
Had I really dry humped Ryder like some horny teenager? Yes. Yes, I had.
Someone please bury me alive.
“You’re an arsehole.”
“Hey,” he said, raising his hands, palms out, like I was some wild animal. “You’re the one who assaulted me.”
“Trust me, it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t drugged. You’re not my type.”
“Please. I’m everyone’s type.” Ryder actually had the audacity to look offended.
My hands clutched at the hem of an oversized T-shirt. “Where’s my dress?”
Ryder tilted his head, gaze sliding to the shredded scraps of pink fabric on the floor. “Oh, that?” His dimples deepened. “Turns out you’re a menace when you’re horny. Absolutely feral. I’m lucky to be alive. Might even need hazard pay just for working with you.”
“Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!”
Ryder swung his long legs over the side of the bed. “You know, I’ve never had to wrestle a woman into clothes before.”
“Ryder!” I groaned. “What happened? Why did I react like that?”
“You took some liquid E. Amongst some other drugs that I can’t remember the name of right now.”
My face paled. “E?” I croaked.
“You chose the pink drink.” Ryder shrugged, towering over me now. I fixed my gaze firmly on his face and absolutely not on the chest that was practically eye level. “Chains is famous for their special cocktails. Not my fault you didn’t bother asking what was in it.”
Light glinted off the piercing in his nipples, which of course drew my attention to the rest of his torso. “Did you really have to take your shirt off?” Unlike his back, his front only had a couple of tattoos, all black and grey and aching for some colour.
“Well, heaven forbid I act like a gentleman and try to cover you. Next time you start stripping, I’ll just let your tits go free, shall I?”
“There’s not going to…” My voice faltered. What was even happening? My head spun, my body hot and cold at the same time. “Just give me a minute.”
I stumbled into the en-suite, slamming the door only to press my back against it like it was the only thing holding me upright. My chest heaved, emotions tangling into a knot of shame and anger.
Through the wood came Ryder’s voice, lazy and amused. “What? Don’t want another round? Seems only fair I get to come this time.”
“Fuck off!” I screamed, my throat raw, though a traitorous part of me shivered at the sound of his deep, masculine laugh.
It was just the remnants of the drugs. Nothing else.
It definitely wasn’t the memory of him all wet, dark hair clinging to his face from the rain while he sucked—
Stop it!
Dragging a hand across my face, I turned to the mirror, checking my pupils.
Pinching the lids I held them open to the light, but they seemed to react normally.
Not that I knew what I was looking for. Blinking a few more times, I studied my reflection, the skin on my face a little pale considering my evening, bringing out the freckles I tried so hard to hide.
My hair was a nest on my head, the strands so tangled I winced.
I looked like a madwoman dressed in a man’s T-shirt, with the band ‘Grimmstone’ written across my breasts.
I tugged it off and tossed it into the corner before stepping into the shower.
The first burst of water was icy, but I stayed beneath it until the heat finally spread, loosening my muscles as I washed my body and hair.
I scrubbed harder than I needed, until my skin stung and every tangled knot was removed with my fingers. I stayed until the water cooled, and only then did I step out. Wrapping a towel around my body I moved to the mirror above the sink, wiping my hand across the steamed surface.
“Bloody hell!” I jumped, finding Ryder leaning in the doorway in the reflection. “Did you just watch me shower?” I screeched, turning to face him with the towel clutched tighter.
“Your lack of any sense of danger is nothing short of astounding,” he muttered, slowly straightening to his full height. “Seriously, I could’ve been anyone.”
“Get out!” I shoved him in the chest, forcing him back so I could slam the door in his face. But instead, he caught it, holding it open.
“You’ve been in here almost an hour,” he pointed out. “So hurry the fuck up and make yourself presentable. We have things to do and people to see.”
I pushed the door again, but he didn’t budge.
“Also, cute birthmark on your shoulder. Looks like a heart.” With a wink he released his grip, allowing me to finally close it.
Biting back a very unfriendly remark, I quickly dried and eyed Ryder’s T-shirt. It was the only thing I had considering my dress was beyond repair. I had no fucking idea where my knickers had gone, and I was not asking him.
Shoving it on, I was thankful it was big enough to cover all my important bits.
Finding a brush beneath the sink and an elastic band, I quickly tamed my hair and braided it out the way.
When I finally was happy to open the door, I found Ryder lounging back at his desk, the chair tipped back as he smoked a cigarette and scrolled through his phone.
He still hadn’t put on a shirt, and I couldn’t help but study the realistic snake that curled from his hand up around his upper bicep. Across his left pec a passage curled in small, elegant script while a circle and lines marked his lower abs on the right, just above his jeans. Maybe a compass?
He was all hard edges and sun-kissed skin. Frustratingly, Ryder had a body worth looking at. As if he was sculpted for both agility and power.
“Thought I wasn’t your type?” he teased, glancing up from his phone with an amused expression.
“I need some clothes.” I hadn’t brought anything when I’d left my flat yesterday in a hurry. “Clothes,” I emphasised when Ryder’s gaze seemed locked on my legs.
“Your place isn’t safe right now.”
“Then my studio.”
“I don’t think your clothes are a priority, blondie.” Ryder stubbed out his cigarette and pushed to his feet, snatching a T-shirt from somewhere behind him.
I froze as he turned, catching sight of his back before the fabric slid into place.
I hadn’t noticed before, but his skin was littered with faint, circular marks scattered among the tattoos.
By the time he dragged the shirt over his shoulders, the scars were gone, and I made sure my gaze was elsewhere when his eyes found me again.
He scooped a set of keys from the counter, metal clinking sharp in the silence.
“Where are we going?” I asked, pulse quickening.
Ryder’s smile this time didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Out.”