Chapter 13
SIMONE’S PULSE THUMPED LIKE A BASS drum as they stepped into the small elevator. The doors were sliding closed, about to seal them in privacy for the first time since they’d admitted their feelings to each other, when a man jammed his beefy forearm into the gap between the doors.
“Oof—sorry ’bout that!”
Two of the Brits from the bar crammed themselves into the already-tight space. Simone and Ryan pressed their backs into opposite walls to make room for the new arrivals.
“It’s bloody sardines in here,” the second man said.
“S’pose we could wait for the next one,” the first man replied, despite clearly having no intention of doing so. He pressed the button for the fifth floor.
Simone and Ryan made eye contact in the mirrored walls.
She wanted him so badly, and not being able to touch him yet only made her crave him even more.
Ryan raked a hand through his hair, his eyes boring into the screen that announced the floors.
The ripple in his jaw told Simone he was clenching his muscles, that he was just as impatient to get the hell out of here.
There was an ache in her core that spread across her chest and down to the space between her legs—an ache that she couldn’t relieve just by pressing her legs together, which was what she was doing now, to no avail.
Was this the slowest elevator in Vancouver, or in the world?
It felt like the slowest elevator in all of history.
At last, with a cheerful ding, they arrived on the fourth floor. She didn’t even wait for the Brits to step out and make room. Instead, she launched herself into the hallway, then whirled around, breathless, as Ryan squeezed out behind her.
The elevator doors slid shut.
As soon as they were alone in the dimly lit corridor, she rushed to close the distance between them with weeks’ worth of pent-up energy.
When he opened his arms, something came over her—a wordless message passed between them—and she jumped.
He caught her with strong hands that cupped her ass and pulled her in close as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Now that she was in his arms, there was only one thing left to do.
With her arms around his neck, she leaned in and kissed him.
She could taste the woodsmoke from the whiskey on his lips, which were soft and full and slightly parted, beckoning her inside.
When their tongues met, the smoke became a fire, its flames unfurling in every inch of her body.
Ryan moaned, and the sound vibrated in Simone’s core.
He dug his fingers deeper into the denim stretched across her ass.
What was she doing wearing pants at a time like this?
Simone drew her head back. Ryan’s cheeks were as flushed as they’d been on the cold mountaintop. “Maybe we should go to the room,” she murmured.
“Good call.” He peered over her shoulder without relaxing his grip. “Which way are we again?”
“Uh…” Simone had temporarily lost her bearings, too. “W-we’re the first door that way.” She pointed, and he carried her. “You know you can put me down if you need to,” she told him.
“I don’t,” he said simply. Simone was impressed. Hooking up with someone who hauled wood and operated power tools for a living had its perks. “I think I put the key card in my back left pocket, if you can reach it.”
They laughed breathlessly as they contorted themselves so that Simone could reach the card without Ryan putting her down.
When she slipped her hand into his pocket, she felt his firm glutes, and again, she cursed the existence of denim.
“Got it,” she said, and pulled out the card.
Ryan rotated their bodies so she could tap it on the door, turn the handle, and let them in.
He didn’t put her down until he’d carried her all the way to the bed, where he bent his knees and eased her onto the duvet. She kicked off her shoes.
They’d left the bedside lamp on before they’d gone down to the bar, and now it cast a warm, golden glow over their bodies. It was funny how the room had seemed tiny when they’d first checked in; now, it seemed intimate.
Simone lay on her back with her legs bent.
He stood at the edge of the bed, his palms resting on her knees, and gazed down at her, his eyes traveling slowly from her waist up, like he wanted to absorb every inch of her.
She felt powerful, being looked at like that.
She thought back to the satisfaction she’d gotten from putting him in his place.
She propped herself up on her elbows. “You look really fucking good in that crewneck.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Too good. Take it off.”
She didn’t just hear Ryan’s breath hitch; she saw it, too, in the way his Adam’s apple bobbed and a shudder passed through his body.
With a spasm of panic, she wondered if she’d freaked him out.
But then, obediently, he grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and started to pull.
Well then. Ryan likes being told what to do.
Simone would keep that in mind, or she would try to.
Her brain was addled by the sight of him towering over her shirtless.
He was muscular—sturdy, rather than lean—with a dusting of freckles across his broad, hairless pecs and shoulders.
“Fuck, Ryan.” Her voice was raspy. His fingers moved to his belt, but she said, “No. Not yet.” The whiskey was making her confident, and she wasn’t done appreciating what he’d just revealed to her.
Instead of lying back down, she pushed herself all the way up.
She scooted to the edge of the bed, so that her eyes were in line with his sternum.
She lifted her chin. She would make him stoop.
“Kiss me.” Ryan bent down, cupped her jaw, and kissed her more deeply than before.
He kissed her like he had something to prove, and Simone wanted nothing more than to be his proving ground.
Her hands explored the solid mass of his torso, felt his heart beating under skin that was hot to the touch.
She was hot, too. She was on fire. She tugged her chunky sweater over her head, remembering at the last minute that she was wearing a basic gray sports bra underneath: something that would have been comfy on the plane, but wasn’t exactly sexy by most people’s definitions.
It was by Ryan’s definition, apparently.
With his hands resting lightly on Simone’s shoulders, he took a small step back to survey the new parts of her that he could see.
“Wow,” he murmured as his fingertips traveled south, lightly tracing the edges of her bra straps.
Simone felt a surge of heat between her legs when he reached the outer curves of her breasts, when his featherlight touch teased her through the fabric.
Off. She needed it off. But she didn’t want Ryan to stop touching her.
Instead of taking it off, she simply pulled down the fabric in front so that it was under her naked breasts, lifting them in a way that was somehow even hotter than what fancy lingerie could do.
Her breasts had an instant effect on Ryan, who dropped to his knees in reverence.
He gripped her waist, and she liked the feel of his callused palms, the way it contrasted with the unbearably soft kisses he was planting around the edge of her left breast. Then around the edge of her right.
He went back to the left, his lips and tongue moving closer and closer to her hard nipple, until at last he took it in his mouth and sucked.
“Fuck, Ryan,” she said again, her voice even raspier than the first time. She hadn’t felt this good in months. Running a hand through his unruly curls, Simone purred, “You’re doing such a good job at that.”
Ryan moaned around her nipple and sucked harder.
The vibration of his moan coupled with the increased pressure felt so good that Simone had to throw her head back, arching into him.
The shift resulted in her already-swollen clit rubbing against her jeans, and she wondered again what she was doing wearing pants at a time like this.
While Ryan continued worshipping her breasts, Simone scrambled to unbutton her jeans. Then she felt her cotton underwear.
“Give me your hand,” she said. Ryan had just moved his mouth to her right nipple. Without releasing it from his mouth, he did as he was told, and Simone guided his hand to the drenched fabric between her legs. “Do you feel that?”
He nodded as he sucked. Simone was lightheaded, dizzy on the power dynamics she’d never explored with anyone until she’d met Ryan.
“You got me soaking wet,” she said. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
Ryan released her breast from his mouth. Still kneeling between her legs, he looked up at her. “I’m going to make you come.”
Simone could probably have come just from hearing him say that.
Her sports bra still on, she lay on her back.
Ryan stood up and helped her shimmy the rest of the way out of her jeans.
Then he eased her underwear over her hips and all the way down her legs, until they were off and she was lying there, glistening for him.
“Do you mind if I—” His hands went to his belt again. “Not to—just because it’s easier to kneel when I’m out of my jeans.”
“Of course.” She watched as he undid the buckle and took off his pants.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, and it was clear he was referring to the giant bulge straining against his black briefs.
He got back down on his knees and slid his muscular arms under her thighs.
Simone let out a soft gasp as he tugged her to the very edge of the bed as easily as if he were moving a pillow.
Now his eyes were in line with her vulva, his mouth less than an inch from her. She could feel his every exhale on all her most sensitive parts, and then she heard his voice.
“Can I finger you while I lick your clit?”
“Yes,” she breathed. Please.
He started just with his tongue, hot and wet and—fuck, she might actually be melting. Her whole body was liquid. Then she felt his hand—felt one of his thick fingers sliding into her, opening and filling her up—and just like that, she was vapor. She’d floated up to the stratosphere.
“Does that feel good?” Ryan murmured, his lips still grazing her skin, his finger still curling against the front wall of her vagina.
“Yes,” she replied. “So good—it’s so, so good, Ryan.”
“Good.” And then he buried his face in her again.
She wanted this to go on forever, but she was already so turned on that her climax was inevitable. “I’m right there,” she said, her voice ragged, and then— “Fuck, Ryan, I’m coming.”
With his finger still inside her, he licked her over the edge. Then, when her throbbing clit was too sensitive for direct contact, he massaged her G-spot the rest of the way through her orgasm.
When he’d finally drawn the last of it out of her, Simone was spent in the best way possible. Breathing heavily, she lay there on her back, noticing the cracks in the ceiling for the first time. For a while there, he’d had her on another plane of existence.
“Simone.”
The urgent note in Ryan’s voice shook her from her post-orgasm haze. “Are you okay?” she asked, pushing herself up to a seated position. She looked down at Ryan to see what the matter was.
He tugged down his briefs and freed his hard cock, even larger now than the bulge she’d seen earlier.
“Wow,” she said, genuinely impressed. It was the nicest dick she’d ever seen, and Simone had seen a fair number of dicks in almost thirty years of exclusively dating men.
“I got so hard from eating you out,” he whispered, wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft, but he didn’t stroke. “I’m already so close.”
If she’d been delirious with power before, it was nothing compared to how she suddenly felt knowing she’d brought him to the brink of orgasm without so much as touching him. He was getting off on making her feel good. And he’d performed admirably. He deserved a reward.
“I want you to make yourself come,” she coaxed him from above. “Make yourself come for me.” If only the Simone of four weeks ago who’d been terrified of Ryan’s wrath could see her now.
As Ryan started to pump his cock, Simone inched forward, slid a hand into his curls, and caressed the side of his head.
Taking deep, measured breaths, he gazed up at her, but it wasn’t long before his breaths had shortened to gasps.
“Fuck, Simone.” He closed his eyes, and she saw his abs clench as he worked to keep himself under control. She wanted to see him unravel.
“Be good and make yourself come for me,” she purred.
She was whispering words of praise in his ear when he finished all over himself, still kneeling between her legs.
It was the single hottest thing Simone had ever witnessed.
Ryan sighed with pleasure, softly kissed her inner thigh, and collapsed with his head in her lap. She cradled him there, stroking his hair.
“Holy shit,” he said, with a faint laugh. “That was…”
“Incredible,” Simone whispered.
Ryan nodded. He picked up his head and kissed her between her legs. She moaned. “You’re wet again.”
“From watching you.”
And the next thing Simone knew, Ryan was making her come again with his hands and mouth, before he’d even had the chance to clean himself up.
It was electrifying, how badly he craved her pleasure.
She’d spent so much of her life trying to please everyone else.
But somehow, Ryan—stubborn, infuriating Ryan—had helped her realize she deserved to be pleased too.
A silver lining to their rocky beginning.
When Simone recovered from her second climax of the evening, she propped herself up on her elbows. “You really like to be of service, huh?”
“I do,” he said, unashamed.
“Noted.”
As Ryan stood up and went to the bathroom to wash off, Simone bit her bottom lip, realizing she shouldn’t have said that. Why would she need to make a note about something that wasn’t going to happen again?