Chapter 9 #2
He blinks down at our locked hands, about to pull his hand out from my hold. I trace my thumb on the center of his palm, writing a secret message of my own.
I can’t unsee him anymore.
“Ishika. Let go,” he warns, pulling back his hand, but I clutch on to him like my life depends on it.
“You are enough. You’re more than enough, Ryan Harper. I am sorry, but I can’t let you go.”
I didn’t plan to say it but now that it’s in the open, it feels right. A confession that I didn’t know needed to be confessed until now.
His features soften hearing me out. His eyes ask me why. He still doubts my intentions.
I’m going to make him believe. I climb the one step keeping me away from him. The height is not enough, so I climb two more steps to bridge the height difference. Before he can stop me, raising on my tippy-toes, I slam my lips to his.
Oh. My. God!
His lips are so soft. I wait for him to do something but he stands still like a statue and his lips frozen in time.
I open my mouth, skimming my tongue on his lower lip. He doesn’t kiss me back. He denies me, putting up a fight. His lips sealed tight.
Stubborn brute.
I whimper in frustration with my lips pushing and grinding on his.
Letting go of his hand, I grab the collar of his shirt with both my hands, forcefully pulling him down to me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I open my mouth and sink my teeth on his bottom lip.
Tugging and biting harder and almost making him bleed.
I want this. I want Ryan Harper.
Please let me in.
Ryan, give me a chance.
“Please!” I whimper with his lower lip between my teeth.
I hear his growl first and then his mouth takes over mine.
Hot. Hungry. Savage.
In a heartbeat the dynamics of our kiss shift, his arm hooks me at my waist as his mouth dominates me and I obey.
Fisting my hair in his other hand, he angles me like I am his puppet and he is my puppet master.
Tugging my hair, he pulls my head back and with a push of his tongue, he parts my mouth wider.
Then he devours me.
Stroking, licking, sucking, raw and wild. His tongue strokes and digs up my deepest dirtiest desires as he reels me closer until my breasts squish up against his hard broad chest, and the heat from his erection is digging into my hips.
Oh yeah! He is enormously turned on.
I am about to faint from the pleasure, the sensation of his mouth is driving me crazy.
A taste of Ryan Harper and a glimpse of what his delicious body is capable of is all it takes for my knees to wobble and my panties to melt.
He has me panting in heat in seconds. I want more.
I never want this to stop. His tongue curls and sucks and flicks my mouth as he strums a tune that vibrates to my core.
I don’t know who breaks the kiss but we both come up for air. I surprised him with my audacity. His shock doesn’t last long. The deep frown lines between his eyes tells me he is pissed; the menacing scowl is back.
Like I crossed some sort of line by kissing him.
Like I manipulated him into kissing me back.
But there is also a dark haze that indulges with the blues in his eyes.
I started a storm inside him, and I can see it brewing and getting stronger by the minute.
He can pretend to be unaffected all he wants, but his dilated pupils and overeager cock tell a different story.
I made Ryan Harper feel something and Ryan Harper wants me just as bad.
The wolf whistles and hoots erupt around us.
There are people cheering, demanding we kiss again.
I don’t need encouragement; I am addicted already.
One kiss is not enough. When I dive for his lips again, Ryan dodges me.
His hand slips from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me to his chest and wrapping his arms tight around me.
I can hear his thundering heartbeats; I feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. I can smell his deliciously sexy masculine scent that is acting like an aphrodisiac to my already heightened urge. I want to hump him like a nympho.
“Let’s get you home,” he says in a husky voice. We get down the stairs and begin walking toward the parking lot.
“Ryan, slow down.” A girl with killer heels and wild sex hair to die for, calls Ryan. Her hair is all shiny chestnut-colored, falling down to her waist. She is the same girl from before who was whispering something to the man next to her.
“Hi. I’m Zoe. Ryan’s friend. Wanna go to the movies with us?”
“Eh?” A minute ago, it looked like she hated my existence.
“Not now, Zoe,” Ryan says irritated.
“Oh. Sure. Yes, I didn’t mean like now. You definitely should go home and have sex first. Ooo, your sexual tension is sizzling.”
“Aariv!” Ryan barks, loosening his hold on me. The man who was with Zoe before comes up to us. He then lifts Zoe and throws her over his shoulders then walks away.
“Movies, this weekend, you should come, Ishika,” Zoe shouts, looking very poised in her upside down position.
“She knows my name?” I ask Ryan.
He lets out an exasperated breath as he grabs hold of my wrist. We walk over to the parking lot. I notice Brent’s car missing. He must have fled. I don’t blame him. That crowd is not friendly at all.
We reach Ryan’s motorcycle and he brings out the helmet and places it over my head, tightening the buckle. Climbing on to his bike, he waits until I mount it. There is no eye contact or any lingering touches.
Once I mount his bike, he takes off like a savage beast, leaping and breaking out of the reins that had him chained before. It feels powerful when he chases the wind and roars into the streets.
This time he doesn’t have to tell me to hold on tight because I have my arms around his waist, my thighs hugging his, my face resting on a place between his shoulder blades.
I am soaking up the heat that radiates from his skin.
The anguish from before leaves my body as I snuggle into him, tightening my arms around him and squeezing my eyes shut.
I could ride with him like this forever.
Yes, this thought will bother and alarm me tomorrow, but tonight I want none of it.
No regrets. I inhale his scent again, willing it to fill my lungs.
Like oxygen, it travels until it engulfs me completely, until I am doused in it.
His biceps bunch, his one hand comes to weave his fingers with mine, giving them a squeeze.
I can only hope that he feels this too.
We ride like this until we reach my house and then I manage to fuck things up again.
“Look, I found your wallet. It was lying on the ground outside. Must have fallen down,” I say, handing the brown leather case with a nervous smile.
I thought he would be happy to see his wallet. I thought his happiness would lead to us kissing again. Well, the exact opposite happens.
He stares at his wallet then pockets it. “Thanks. It was my dad’s.” Putting on his helmet, he turns to the road and drives away.
Not a good night or call me or see you later. No trace of a lingering kiss that fucked with my soul.
I know I lied about his wallet. I didn’t want him to go and pick a fight with Brent, get beaten up, or continue the hatred they share. But it feels wrong that I didn’t come clean.
That night, I toss and turn in bed once more, questioning my choices and decisions.
Was I ever in love with Brent? Will I ever be willing to be in love with Brent?
And what exactly do I want from Ryan Harper?
Finding true love was always secondary to my ambition. But Ryan makes me wonder what really falling in love feels like.
Being pursued is a fucked-up concept. Since when did chivalry die a painful death?
It’s been two days since we kissed and Ryan still hasn’t called.
Not even a text after that searing duel of our tongues.
My lady boner has gone raging mad in the meantime.
My itch has become a rash. There are times when a woman needs to take matters into her own hands.
I am not referring to a vibrator, although maybe it’s time I invest in one of those.
But my intuition says being tied down and dominated by the savage’s tongue is better than any vibrator.
So here I am, standing in front of Ryan with a Tupperware full of gajar ka halwa. A dessert. A gift from my Anglo-Indian heritage.
My father’s mother, my granny used to run a bed and breakfast in a small village in Goa, India.
Her husband, my grandpa, was a hungry British tourist who was having a bad day.
He had lost his luggage and his wallet during his train ride earlier that morning.
He had knocked on the doors of the bed and breakfast in hopes of a free drink.
A cold beer on a hot day was what he was after.
Grandpa says the minute the door opened and his eyes met Granny’s, he was drunk in her beauty.
Then, she offered him a dessert that she had just finished cooking, gajar ka halwa.
One bite of the hot sweet dessert and a single sip from the cold bottle of coconut Feni, Grandpa was a goner.
He knew right away, Avó was going to be his wife.
That story always made me smile. The dessert is a family favorite still.
I am risking a lot today. Showing Ryan this part of me and hoping he will forgive me one more time.
This is me begging forgiveness.