Chapter Ten Ryker #2
“No, I finished that one.” She sets her fork on her plate and blinks at the boy. “I’m working on a romantasy book now about dragons and witches.”
“That’s cool,” he decides.
I’ll enjoy listening to that one. I listen to all her books.
For years I did it just so I could hear her voice when I couldn’t talk to her.
Then, it got to where I actually enjoyed the books themselves.
Willow’s excellent at what she does. I admit, she’s damn good.
When she acts out the sex scenes, I have to make sure I’m by myself so I don’t humiliate myself in public.
And she’s great at accents, which surprised me at first.
“Do you take dialect training?” I ask her, grabbing her attention.
“I did,” she replies. “Sometimes I have to brush up on accents, if I haven’t done one in a while. Some are harder for me than others.”
“What’s the hardest for you?” Aiden asks.
“Irish,” she replies, and resumes eating her dinner. “British is the easiest for me.”
“That’s really cool,” Aiden says, and I notice she pauses eating again.
The teenager has opened up quite a bit in the last week, talking more at dinner and asking questions, and I know she’s not used to it. It hurts my heart for her because I know how much she loves her nephew.
When Aiden reaches for thirds, Willow’s eyebrows climb into her hairline. “You must be burning a ton of calories. I’ve made this a thousand times, and I’ve never seen you eat this much.”
She’s laughing, obviously not bothered at all, and Aiden grins at her.
“I told you, I’m hungry.”
“Well, eat up. I’d rather you were full than we have leftovers.”
When we’re finished eating, Aiden offers to help with the dishes, but we both shake our heads.
“Go on out and relax,” Willow says, reaching up to ruffle his still-damp hair. “Sleep well, okay?”
“Okay. Good night.”
He pats her back and offers me a high five, and then he’s off to the bunkhouse.
“He’s almost jovial,” Willow says after the door closes behind him. “And he asked me about work. He’s honestly never done that.”
“This ranch is good for the soul,” I reply and help Willow load the dishwasher. “I heard a rumor about you.”
“It’s probably true.” She shrugs and then snickers. “Okay, what was it?”
“That you know your sports trivia.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I see my kid has been telling my secrets.”
She’s not wearing any makeup tonight. Her face is clean and fresh and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She lights up this whole house. She lights me up.
“Who’s the greatest of all time?”
“Here you go with your ego again.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Between Jordan and James.”
“LeBron James?” she clarifies, and I nod. “Oh, we’re going the basketball route, I see. I thought you wanted me to feed your already ridiculously huge ego.”
“That’s not all that’s huge, sweetheart.”
She flushes, but then makes gagging noises, which only makes me laugh.
“This is a stupid question,” she begins. “Obviously, Jordan is the GOAT.”
“James beat his thirty-points-scored-in-a-single-game record not long ago.”
“Yeah, and he had to play seven seasons longer than Jordan played to beat that record. And do you know that if LeBron were to beat Jordan’s forty-points-in-a-game record, he’d have to play for another forty seasons based on his average?
Basically, if Jordan got thirty in a game, he likely scored forty as well. ”
Yep. She’s unbelievable, and hearing her rattle off stats is making my dick sit up and pay attention.
I can’t stay away from this woman any longer. Fuck being careful.
“Now, yes, James does hold the record for the highest scorer of all time, and that’s incredible. But again, Jordan is number five of all time, to this day, and he played far fewer seasons than James. Jordan has six rings. I wish I’d seen those games live. What a rush that must have been.”
I’m moving closer to her. I can’t help myself.
She’s animated, her hands move as she talks, and she’s wiping down the counter with a rag, and then she turns to me, and her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed because she obviously loves this conversation, and I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want this woman.
My Wills.
My Trouble.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” I whisper, surprised that the words aren’t just in my head.
Her pretty blue eyes widen, and then she pushes up on her toes and quickly presses her lips to mine before pulling away again, and that’s all the invitation I need.
“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“The hell you shouldn’t,” I growl and move in.
One hand fists in her hair at the nape of her neck, and the other slides around to cup her ass, pulling her flush against me, and I sink into her.
She groans, and her hands grip onto my shirt at my sides.
When I lick the seam of her lips, she opens to me, and I’m completely lost in her.
She feels like heaven against me, and when her hands move under my shirt to skim along my skin, it takes everything in me not to strip her naked and fuck her hard and fast against this counter.
“Ry,” she whispers against my lips.
“Yeah, Trouble.” I bite at the corner of her mouth, and with my hand still in her hair, I tug her head back so I can skim my teeth down the side of her throat. “You’re so fucking delicious.”
“Does this mean you’ve figured out your shit?”
Should I do this? Probably not. But damn it, I can’t stay away from her. I need her in a way that I’ve never let myself need anyone else before. And the way she’s kissing me back and touching me tells me that she wants me just as much.
“Figured it out.”
“Thank God. Take this off.” She’s tugging the hem of my shirt, and I waste no time yanking it over my head and casting it aside. Her hands glide down my sides as I frame her face and go in for another life-altering kiss.
I boost her up onto the countertop and step between her legs, just like I did the other night, and she lifts her tank over her head and tosses it to the floor, and then makes quick work of her bra.
I can’t help it. I have to step back to take her in. I’ve never seen her like this, bare from the waist up. Her tits are fucking magic.
“You’re killing me.” I meet her eyes and see that she’s just as turned on as I am. That she wants this just as badly as I do. “If you need to stop this—”
“I’ll smother you in your sleep if you stop now.”