CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO RYKER
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
RYKER
NOW
“I’m driving,” I tell her as I tug the driver’s door open.
Chloe stares up at me, her brows tugging together in frustration. “Drive your own car,” she snaps.
“No can do. It’s still back at the De Marco house.” I shrug. I lean over her and drop the drinks and snacks into the center console. Unclipping her belt before she can stop me, I make quick work of tossing her bags onto the back seat.
I’m starting to suspect when it comes to Chloe, I’m better off asking for forgiveness rather than permission.
Her surprise gives me more than enough time to carefully lift her from the driver’s seat and deposit her in the passenger seat before sliding into her place.
“Hey!”
“You snooze, you lose.”
Her nose screws up at the words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were still in middle school.”
The laugh that bursts from my chest surprises the both of us, because I can’t remember the last time someone snapped back at me so quickly, further proving that Chloe should be mine.
If there’s anything my time in the trunk of her car confirmed, it’s that I’m all in, even if the boss kills me for falling for his girl.
He’ll get over it.
He hasn’t seen her in years, so really, how much can he love her?
Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
I’m sure I’ll be singing a different tune when I have the barrel of his gun pressed to my temple, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I don’t bother responding before starting the engine and peeling out of the lot before Damon can follow.
The other brother is still on our tail, but I get the impression he doesn’t harbor the same hatred for Chloe and therefore doesn’t pose the same threat.
“How did you get here if you didn’t drive your car?” she finally asks as I merge onto the highway, heading back toward the city.
We’ll have to stay somewhere tonight because it’s already been a long-as-fuck day, but I’d like to at least make up a few hours before we turn in for the night.
According to my trunk Googling, there’s a motel a couple hundred miles back that should suffice for the night.
“I rode with you,” I reply.
I glance over just in time to watch her brow dip in confusion, and a rough chuckle rolls up my throat. She’s so fucking cute, I can’t handle it.
She looks over her shoulder at the back seat but then shakes off the thought because we both know she would have noticed me back there. I’m not exactly small, and my head brushes the roof when sitting up, so she definitely wouldn’t have missed me.
Weirdly, the trunk is the only place in this car that I actually fit, but I’m not going to tell her that just in case she makes me get back in.
“What…how?”
“It’s better you don’t know.”
She sighs. “Why are we heading back to New York?”
“Because that’s where you live.”
“No, it’s not. Not anymore.”
“Just because those assholes have popped back into your life?”
“No, because now Salvatore Lombardi knows where I am, he won’t stop until I’m dead. I have to go. I have to start over.”
“No.”
“Ryker, you can’t just say no. You’re a bodyguard that Camilla hired without telling me, and I’m relieving you of your services.”
I chuckle. She sounds so sure of herself, but she has no say in the matter. Sure, our relationship started as me as her bodyguard and her my charge, but things have changed, and she’s going to have to get used to that very fucking quickly.
“You think that’s all I am to you, Siren?” I glance over at her with a smirk. “Because I seem to remember you screaming my name when I had my fingers in your cunt. That doesn’t seem like the kind of service just a bodyguard offers.”
Her cheeks heat and she evades her gaze, looking anywhere but at me as the reminder of last night washes over her. “That was just one time,” she mutters.
“Sure it was.”
“It was!”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Ryker!” she snaps.
“You know I love to hear my name on those pretty lips, Chloe.”
An adorable growl tears from her throat, which only makes my smile grow wider. The longer she fights me, the further we can get before she remembers I’m taking her right back where she started.
“This is kidnapping,” she hisses.
I shrug. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done in my life.”
“What does that even mean? And were you in my fucking trunk on the way up here?”
I nod. “I was. Maybe it was you who kidnapped me,” I challenge.
“You’re infuriating,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
“And you’re adorable when you’re mad. I bet angry sex with you is going to be fucking wild.”
Wide eyes turn on me, the prettiest blush making its way down her throat and dipping beneath her sweater.
Memories of how her smooth skin heated with every filthy word I said to her last night does nothing for my already half hard cock.
At least I thought to wear sweatpants for this little adventure, and he’s not trapped in denim. “We are not having sex!”
“Not yet, but we will.”
Chloe can argue all she wants, but nothing is going to stand in the way of her becoming mine.