Yield

22. Ryke

Arriving at Max’s apartment, I wasn’t expecting the heavy metal show from her window. Everyone can hear it blatantly. It’s loud as fuck. Sounds like she’s going through it.

I walk in the front door, finding her in the kitchen doing shots of whipped cream from the can. Tell me that’s not her lunch.

“Hey, giiiirl.” I wave, latching the door behind me. Her phone sits on the counter, where she quickly taps the screen to pause it. “I see it’s chick-chat time.” I throw my head to the side, attempting to whip the length of my hair. “Tell me about it.”

“Do you honestly think we flip our hair after every sentence we say?” She tilts her head, reaching for volume on her wireless speaker.

“Oh, mid-sentence too? Mid-sentence too.” I nod. “I’ll work on it.”

Her lips upturn as I get comfortable on the stool across from her. “What are you looking at?” Her laptop is open in front of her. The way she’s glued to the screen has her mind somewhere else, only giving me a small portion of her attention.

“Um,” she clears her throat. “This news article. It’s—”

“Depressing.”

“Yes, but you can’t hide in a hole and pretend you’re not affected by the acts of our government.” The world is repulsing. The ability to believe something horrific was meant in order for something beautiful to align is hard even for me.

“I can and I will. Wanna join me?”

“Where is this hole? I will always question a sketchy hole.”

The amount of hole jokes I could…

“There’s a place downtown called Hole In The Wall. It’s one of those line-dancing bars. I personally wouldn’t go to that hole, but you might like it.”

“There is so much to check out around here. A lot of holes.” Her elbows press to the counter.

“I love living this close to the city. There is never a dull moment. If you can’t find something to do, walk down to Main and people-watch. If you invite me, I’ll bring the popcorn.”

She closes her laptop and folds her hands above it. “Small towns are more my thing.”

“Are you homesick? Is that why you were playing end-of-the-world music?” I gesture at her phone on the counter.

“End of the world? Did you catch any of the lyrics? This song is called Warning From My Demons. It’s about… um, not being the best version of yourself. But yeah, it’s hard. I miss Riley and my friends. We traveled a lot for Cole’s races. Being home was peace…and rest. I don’t feel like I get any rest now.”

“Yeah…I only caught about fifteen seconds of drums and guitar, girlfriend.” I whip my hair to the side again, combing it over. I don’t know exactly what to say, but at least I can put a smile on her face. “It’s a good thing you’re my girl because I have a lot of friends who...I have an idea. Not sure where I was going with that. Uh, but tomorrow night, I’ll take you dancing with Sara and you can meet her girlfriends.”

Her laugh prefaces a sassy comment. “The guy who doesn’t dance is going to go dancing with a bunch of women? Or is it like junior high, where the guys all stand in the corner, so you’re good?”

“Junior high for sure. And E will be there. They finally made it official, by the way.” I flick my thumbs up in celebration.

“I feel like they’ll be one of those couples that date for three months and then get engaged.”

“Weddings are fun.” I wink.

“Yeah…”

I nod in realization. “Which you know from a bride’s perspective.”

“Yeah. My wedding was nice, although it was out of my control because Cole’s mom was obsessive and had to have everything perfect.” She rolls her eyes. “It was a bittersweet day, honestly. My parents should have been there and…they couldn’t be.”

“They were there, Max. They know of everything great you do in life and are proud of you,” I reassure her because I believe it.

“Sure,” she mocks. “They’re very proud of a divorced single mom who is working two jobs, and driving back and forth out of state every week while contemplating what the hell I’m doing.”

Taking her hand, I rub my thumb back and forth over her soft skin. “You’re not a single mom anymore, Max.”

“Sorry, we’re dating?” she blinks away. “That’s what we’re doing?”

“That’s the commitment I want to give you, yeah. I thought by the discussions we’ve had, you we’re there.”

“I do, I mean, I am. I want a casual commitment, like we agreed. I didn’t realize it had a title.” Situationships are too confusing.

“Well, will you be my totally unserious commited girlfriend, Max?”

“Promise?” She holds out her pinky. I loop mine around it and repeat her.

“Promise.”

“I’ve changed titles a lot this year, bare with me while I try to admit to myself that I’m dating again.” I wasn’t trying to rush her into a decision, yet it feels like I did when she says stuff like that.

“It won’t be difficult when we’re at Rave and you get jealous.”

She tries to hide her knowing smile. “I will not get jealous of an act and besides, Rave has to appear single.” I chose a business-savvy woman.

The intrusive thought hits me. “You could do a skit with me.”

She strains back with a pained expression. “A skit? On stage? No. That’s not for me, Ryke. Never see it happening.”

“I’ll make you your own mask,” I tease. “Nobody will ever know.” Am I convincing you, peach?

I raise my brows, narrowing my eyes at her telling tucked lip. Her shoulders relax, and her eyes roll up. “What would we even do?”

“Oh, see. Never say never, peach.” I wink. “The first thing that comes to mind is a Joker and Harley Quinn type of thing. Or like Rave is the bad guy after her.” I gesture a flat palm, unsure of what her character would be named. “And just when you think he has her, she switches the game and takes Rave down. Lights out.”

“You thought of that on the spot? Right now?” I nod, a little cocky. “It’s good. I’m not saying yes, but the idea would make an entertaining skit.”

“You judge me all harshly and what-not. Come on, peach. I built a business from scratch off of random skit ideas.” Hold my arms in a T, I shake out a grin.

“Ahh,” she sighs. “And here I thought you were just another pretty face.”

“I am pretty, but you know what would elevate it…some cute little pigtails or hair clips with flowers on.” She thinks I’m a dumbass for certain now. Whatever makes her laugh. Paint me like a clown and I’ll slip on a banana peel for her.

“You would be cute, but I’m kinda, a little bit…interested in meeting this Rave guy that hides behind a mask,” she toys.

I lean across the counter, lowering my voice. “Does the mask do it for you?”

Her cheeks flush pink. “I wouldn’t say I have a kink, but the idea of it…or of you behind the mask is exciting.”

“You’re right. I’m behind the mask, but…I become the character when I put the mask on. I’m consumed by the persona. You understand that, right? I mean, I can cut the act at any time. I don’t want to, but I can. I like becoming this, uh, dominant-like, no-fucks given character. This sorta bad guy.” He’s the opposite of who I am.

“Like, you get to disappear from the real world?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t have a problem with reality. It’s more of a fantasy thing. I like things a certain way, no matter what I’m doing, but when I’m intimate with a woman, I’m considering what she likes, wants, needs.”

“Yeah. You’re always checking up on me.”

“In the bedroom, or the kitchen in your case, a lot of the control and decision-making depend on the woman. Equally communicating. It’s not a bad thing. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy it and want a woman to reach climax. Rave…I make the rules. I’m desired because I’m selfish. Some woman share that fantasy. Well, many women do or I wouldn’t be successful as Rave. That’s what you get if you want him.”

“What if I said no? Would that be a deal breaker in a relationship?”

My eyes turn down.

That’s a good question.

I slowly peer back to her.

“I don’t want you to do something you hate to please me, and I honestly don’t know if it would be a problem or not. I enjoy being with you and while sex is important, I can’t say how important it is for me to be Rave. Acting as him online and at the club might fulfill the desire without being physical. I genuinely don’t know, Max.”

She slowly tucks her chin, understanding. “Valid insight.” The brightness in her eyes doesn’t fade and I hope it’s a good sign. She meets me, nose to nose, over the counter. Her sight falls to my mouth and gradually returns. “I want Rave,” she hums.

I inhale her light vanilla scent, following the slight curve of her nose with mine. “You’re sure?” I mutter.

“What’s one more bad decision?”

“What all good stories are made from.” In a swift motion, I press my lips to her jaw.

Achingly beautiful nails run up the back of my neck. She kisses me with teasing lips, soft and slow. The delicate friction coaxing a deep groan from my throat. “Rave isn’t available right now, but I’m here and if you keep teasing me like that, you might see deja vu, sweet peach.”

Her smirk lifts against my skin, trailing tender kiss after kiss down my jaw. I offer her my neck, moaning through her subtle sucking. “You’re the sweetest nirvana,” I mutter. “And I liked that song you were listening to when I walked in, but you should learn to keep your door locked. Fantasy is wonderful. A sadistic stranger walk through the front door and hurting you isn’t.”

She glances up. “You’re right.” Her angelic lips drift away. “I should keep it locked.”

Shit. Did I embarass her? “Turn on your favorite song.”

She looks down at her phone, picks it up, and answers my fixated eyes with a simper. Teasing little…Something about slowing down, putting a pause on my mouth against her warm skin is spreading the tension two layers thick. Desperate and starving, I couldn’t find the brakes before. That was when I was afraid she would change her mind and I’d never know how she felt or how she sounded. I’d never hear my name from her mouth, calling out in pleasure. Enough times I imagined she was mine… now she is and she deserves my undivided attention.

“I know this song. It’s an intro song for one of the acts at Rave. Beach Weather, right? This is your favorite?”

“Favorite this week.”

“It’s a good one to turn up really…really… loud. Oh.” I laugh. “You want to look at me like that now?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re an innocent little peach, waiting to be plucked.” I pinch her chin between my fingers. “You should get naked now.” Those eyes. God, if she wasn’t amazing and kind and caring, I’d be concerned they were created to destroy men. Fuck, they make my dick hard. One deep glare is all it takes to read her mind. “Give me your hand.”

She hits the volume control on her phone. The bass creeps through the speaker louder and louder. Leading her the short walk into the living room, I sit on the microfiber couch across from her forty-three-inch TV that I insisted on buying her. I’m still annoyed she wouldn’t let me go bigger, although she was right. She’s more entertaining than anything on that screen.

If she wants Rave, I’ll give her a little taste. Entertain me. I wait for the show, leaning back and propping my hands behind my head.

She peels her light green top off, letting it fall from her fingertips to the floor. She’s sexy as midnight sin. I’m pitching a tent imaging the ways I could break her...and shes a bit more reluctant now, avoiding my eyes as she slides her jean shorts down. She steps out of them, giving them a little kick to slide them out of the way.

What is…what’s going on. This is more than hesitation. Her arms are uncomfortably stiff to her sides.

“Hey.” I caress her smooth thigh, running my fingers across the tan lines her shorts left behind. “You wanna talk about it?” She always wants to talk about it…and then be distracted.

“I’m a mom.”

That’s not new knowledge, peach.

Shaking my head, I laugh. “You’re a milf. Gorgeous and sexy and if you’re not comfortable with me worshipping every curve and mark, maybe—”

“I’m not insecure.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Her gaze is unsettled.

Fuck. She’s not ready for Rave.

Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…

I rise from my seat millimeters from her heated skin, tugging my t-shirt over my head. It doesn’t change her eyes. They still run in all directions, only a little differently now.

Her skin calls my hands again. My fingertips glide across her shoulders, back and forth. I want her to know the power she holds over me.

Necking her collarbone, I leisurely draw upward. My lips and tongue gingerly melt into her skin, trading her warmth for mine.

“I’m the insecure one,” I mutter.

She jerks, ruining her face I’m sure. “How are you insecure?”

The world dims around her. I see nothing besides her dubious eyes. “I’m fighting memories of a man.”

Her lips part and close, parting once more before she swallows.

“You don’t have to say anything, angel. Just kiss me.”

She dives into me with passion that shows no fault. She’s not thinking of him or her overloaded work schedule, or missing her daughter and friends. Her mind isn’t playing tricks anymore. She can’t hide the scores that she derived from carrying her child when her body is fully exposed.

I run my hands over her shoulder blades and down her spine till I reach the little prongs on her smooth, tan bra. Her mouth opens with mine as each kiss becomes harder and longer. I press till the prongs part from the fabric, running my fingers back up her spine. She lightly gasps for air in a candied moan under my cooling touch.

Her jaw is in my hands and for a split second, I want to speed to the finish line. I want to feel her pussy pulsing around me. I bet she’s squeezing those muscles now…turned on… excited…on fucking fire. God, I hope she’s ablaze, dying to breath my essence. Wanting me the way I want her.

From her jaw to her neck…to her shoulders, I take two fingers and slip her bra straps down her arm without a break from her mouth. I feel my way around her gorgeous body as the garment hits the floor.

“Ryke, mm.”

“I want you in my mouth,” I hum against her jaw.

Dark pink, hard points stretch as I suck and draw my mouth back, then switch to the other, cupping my hand beneath and pinching the width of her breast. I examine her nipples shrinking with their hard cachet. Her moans are subdued and breathy, a tell-tale sign of her pleasure.

Her taut navel calls my lips. I can’t stay put for long, tasting her skin as my kisses uncontrollably travel. First, an inch below. Then, once lower. My thumbs stroke along her hip bones and I press my mouth to the little white lines that she has doubts about.

“You’re sexy as fuck, peach, and burying my face between your legs is a goddamn privilege.” Thick breaths turn almost primal as I stare at her ivory striped panties and my fingers continue to play at the elastic. Enough.

I slide them down to her thighs.

“You shaved?” I glance up.

In a dreamy state, her heavy lids hood her eyes. “For my comfort…and your pleasure.”

“No, no. It will be your pleasure.” I press the backs of my hands to the inners of her knees with direction. “Open up for me, baby girl.” I hum between her thighs as my tongue releases the moans she’s been holding back. I love when she gets louder…when she says my name…and she can’t stop herself from digging her nails into my bare shoulders. In the smallest movement, she rotates her hips to where she wants me.

I pull away, cupping my hand over my mouth and wiping her from my face before I stand. Unbuttoning my jeans, the delicate whisp in her voice slows me down.

“Ryke…”

“What is it, peach?”

She doesn’t answer, bowing at my feet. Her hands slip inside my jeans, rubbing my thighs as she pushes them to the floor with my boxer briefs. She sizes my dick up like she’s deciding on a plan of war.

Her hand wraps around my shaft and her thumb favors the soft fleshy tip. I try to control myself with what she’s doing to me, but I twitch to the ceiling of her mouth the moment she drags me in. Then I push. Her eyes widen and I stroke her chin. She eases back, flicking the tip with her tongue and sliding back down.

“You’re very…good…at that. I think I hit the fucking lottery.”

Her thumb and pointer apply pressure at the base, turning into full fist pumping while her mouth teases the head.

“Fuuck, that’s my girl…oh, fuck yes…my girl knows what she’s fucking doing. God, peach. You’re full of more secrets than I am.” I sweep her hair from her face and grab her chin again, pulling her down. She fights the sensation hitting the back of her throat, blinking up at me. “Look at what you do to me, my pretty girl. I can’t control myself.” She fists, sucking on the head again. “Oh fuck. Fuuck…Are you toying with me, peach?”

She spits, stroking me with one hand while she balances the other against my thigh. “I’m not toying with you. I’m making you feel good.”

“Fuck yes, you are. You’re amazing at everything you do.” A shaky exhale pours of me as she hums, wrapping her lips around me and sinking down. “Ah hm mm, yeah baby. Keep going. God damn.”

“Ryke.” She licks her lips. “I’m dripping wet.” Her teeth cut into her lower lip, sexy as hell.

“God, peach…”

I pick up my jeans, fishing for the condom in my pocket.

“Wait.” Her hand brushes the dark hair on my inked forearm. “Can I?”

She wants to put it on. Fuck. Okay.

I nod, handing the square to her. She leans back on her heels, toes curled to the floor, and opens it. Her eyes lock on mine after she gets it over the tip, rolling it down. I sit, taking her hand and pulling her on top of me.

“You didn’t have a problem with this before, but I’ll leave the pace up to you.”

She swoops her hair to one shoulder and holds on to the back of the couch, widening her legs. I grip my cock, letting her slide back and forth over the tip.

“Mm,” she moans, taking me in. She pulls up and rocks back down. “Ohh.”

Her breasts hang in my face and I take them into my mouth, squeezing the opposite as I switch. “Fuck, fuck, baby. Keep going.” My head drops back as she picks up the pace, grinding and riding. “You feel so good. Fuck me, you feel so fucking good.” My words turn into groaning moans and then hers match.

“Mm, oh. Ryke.”

“Peach, fuuck. Baby.”

Our breathy moans intertwine as we climb closer and closer to the peak.

“Touch me,” she demands.

I grab her waist, lifting her and sliding her back down. Rubbing her clit, I suck at the curve along her neck.

“R-R,” she pants.

“Fuck. Say it.”

“R-uh hhuh.” Those lips moaning my name…come on. “R-Ryke Ryke.” She gasps.

“That’s my girl, my fucking girl.” She’s mine now.

She tenses and the loudest moan I’ve heard yet breaks over the music that I forgot was playing. “That’s it, baby.” She keeps riding the wave. “Keep coming for me.” I nibble her neck and pick her ass up, dragging it deep several times before I start losing control. “Make it last.”

The gasps between her inhales begin to lessen, holding on to the air in her lungs longer.

“Uh, ahh, fuuck,” I groan, struck will bliss. “Fuck.” I breath heavily against her chest. “Thank you for being so goddamn good to me. God, peach. You’re incredible.” Her eyes deeply settle on mine. “I’m serious. You’re too good to be true.”

“Mm, you’re…” She smiles. “Do you want to get a shower?”

I try to focus on her through my tired eyes. “Yeah. Then we can talk about anything else you want to know about my life. We can stay up all night.”

“I don’t know about staying up all night, but I’d like that,” she admits.

She’s wild but likes her sleep. Unlike her, I don’t want to close my eyes. It means less time listening to her laugh.