Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
An ache twisted through Nell’s empty stomach. She pressed her palm to it and realized she had been so stressed all day; she’d neglected to have lunch.
“We should eat,” she said.
“What do you want?”
She looked toward the kitchen. Cooking meant deciding what to make, finding ingredients, and standing over it while it cooked. “Something that comes in a bag.”
He picked up his phone. “Chinese?”
“Yes.”
They sat together on the couch while he found a nearby restaurant. Nell chose hot-and-sour soup and vegetable lo mein. Ryder added dumplings, orange chicken, and spring rolls.
“Do you want to watch TV?” he asked after finishing the order.
She didn’t think she could focus on anything, but she wanted something to fill the silence. “Maybe.”
“How about a nature documentary?” he asked, flipping through channels.
“That sounds good.”
He left it on a documentary about the wildlife in a northern forest. Snow-covered mountains filled the screen, and a quiet narrator described the animals’ behavior.
When the delivery arrived, Ryder brought the bags inside.
Ginger, garlic, fried dough, and pepper warmed the air as they opened the cartons.
The heat and vinegar made her eyes water as she ate her soup on the couch.
Ryder sat beside her, close enough for Nell to feel his warmth.
Onscreen, a lynx stalked through deep snow while its oversized paws kept it from sinking.
Nell watched it miss a hare and sit with offended dignity beside the hole where its dinner had vanished.
Ryder made a comment about how the lynx had been robbed. Nell didn’t think the hare would agree.
They ate while winter softened into spring on the television. When they were done eating and the empty cartons were stacked on the coffee table, she felt much more relaxed. Ryder carried the garbage to the kitchen.
“Do you want root beer floats for dessert?” she asked, opening the freezer.
“You have the ingredients?”
“Yep.”
Ryder found glasses in the cabinet while Nell opened the ice cream. She handed him the scoop. He filled both glasses and poured the root beer slowly enough to keep the foam from spilling over the rims.
They settled back on the couch with their floats.
Nell tucked her feet beneath her and leaned into his side as a pair of red foxes moved through the tall spring grass.
The warmth of his body spread through the thin fabric of her shirt.
His forearm brushed her hair, and his scent filled her senses.
The narrator’s calm voice shifted to the foxes’ mating behaviors.
Onscreen, the male mounted the female. Nell stopped with her straw against her lower lip.
She laughed. “Well. That’s nature for you.”
Ryder laughed beside her. The foxes separated and disappeared into the grass as the documentary moved on to nesting birds.
His thigh rested along hers. When she lifted her head, his gaze dropped to her mouth.
Desire tightened low in her body. She had wanted him all evening, but fear had been louder.
Now there was nothing else to distract them.
Nell took a deep breath, cupped his jaw, and kissed him.
His mouth opened beneath hers, warm and eager, and the arm behind her came around her waist. He shifted, and she climbed onto his lap.
His hands settled at her waist, firm and warm, while she looked down at him.
Ryder’s curly hair had fallen across his forehead.
His lips were parted and all his attention was on her.
Her breath caught. Something turned over under her ribs, quick and light, the way her wren shifted in her sleep.
Nell didn’t stop to name it. She kissed him again.
Ryder’s mouth moved over hers with a hunger that matched her own.
Nell slid her fingers into his hair. His warm hands traveled up her back, then down to her hips, feeling the shape of her through her clothes.
A rough sound broke from him, low enough that she felt it in his chest before she heard it. Ryder kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, and the sensitive skin beneath her ear.
“Nell.” The way he said her name made her shiver.
“I want you,” she said.
His hands tightened on her hips. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Nell drew back far enough to see his face. “But I’ve only done this once. A long time ago.”
Ryder went still beneath her.
She waited for the question, or the careful voice people used when they thought she needed managing.
“Okay,” he said. His thumb stroked the small of her back. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
Nell climbed off his lap and held out her hand. He took it. The documentary continued behind them as she led him into the bedroom. The light from the bedside lamp glowed on the bedspread as Nell drew his shirt over his head.
She had seen him without a shirt before, but never like this. Her palms traveled over his broad shoulders and thick chest, across the solid muscle of his back. He lifted her shirt up over her head. His gaze moved over her the way he looked at something he was about to photograph.
“Come here,” she said.
Ryder kissed her while he unfastened her jeans. Nell pushed his jeans down over his sturdy hips, and they stumbled when both tried to step out of their clothes at once.
Ryder caught her around the waist. “We’re very good at this.”
She laughed against his mouth, and he lifted her onto the bed. Three weeks ago, he had sat on the floor tightening every one of the joints for the bed frame himself. Now they were tumbling onto the mattress together.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone turning soft.
She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his. “Yes,” she whispered. “Touch me. Please.”
Ryder’s hand slid over her neck and then caressed the skin of her shoulder and arm. Nell gripped his waist, pulling him closer. Their tongues tasted each other, and hunger coiled low in her belly.
He swept his hand over her stomach as Nell threaded her fingers through his hair, their kiss deepening. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered, his mouth near her ear.
Nell ran her hand over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles below her palms. Ryder slid his hand up her stomach and cupped her breast. Nell sucked a breath when he closed his fingers over her nipple and gave it a light squeeze.
“Do you like that?” he asked, his breath on her neck.
“Yes. I like it,” she gasped. “Give me more.”
He lowered his face to her chest and sucked her nipple between his lips. His tongue flicked the tight bud, liquid hot and urgent. Nell groaned and tilted her head back, her eyes closed.
The feeling of Ryder’s naked body in her arms, his manhood hardening against her thigh, and his lips and tongue playing gently with her breast overwhelmed her. Heat flooded between her legs, and she could feel her arousal dripping into the sheets.
She ached for him to touch her. She ached to touch him. Ryder sucked her other nipple into his mouth while his fingers rolled the first. She groaned, needing so much more.
His cock twitched against her thigh. She wanted to touch it.
To feel it against her palm, so she reached down and took it in her hand.
It was smooth as silk and hard as an iron rod.
Ryder moaned on contact, his body jolting like he’d been hit with an electric shock.
She began to stroke him, loving the feeling of his throbbing cock in her hand.
“Nell,” he moaned, his mouth on her breast. “You need to stop.”
“Why?” she murmured.
He chuckled and moved her hand away. “I won’t last with you doing that.”
He kissed her stomach, moving lower on the mattress until he sank between her legs. His hands gripped her thighs and parted them. Nell gazed down at him as he stared at her wet, aching pussy.
“Fuck,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Nell ran her hands down her stomach and over her thighs. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” He shook his head, his fingers digging into her thighs slightly too hard. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, leaning up on one elbow.
“Shhh,” he said, gently pressing her back down. “Don’t question it.”
She lay back down, staring up at the ceiling as she laughed at him.
“You’re so wet down here. I can see it dripping out of you.”
“Well…” she said, draping her arm over her eyes. “I’m like… aroused. That’s kind of what happens.”
She felt him shift forward between her legs and the wet flat heat of his tongue press against the folds of her pussy. She gasped as he licked up her length and pressed inside.
“Oh my god,” she moaned.
His tongue pressed deeper, hooking onto her clit. Nell’s entire body spasmed with the contact. Ryder’s hands gripped her thighs more tightly, keeping her in place.
“Is that okay?” he asked, pulling back.
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, reaching down to run her hands through his curls. She pulled him closer and his tongue went back to work on her clit.
He licked the bundle of nerves, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “More…” she whispered.
And he began to lick, suck, and flick her clit with increasing intensity. Nell began to breathe heavily, one hand in his hair, the other arm draped over her eyes.
She’d never felt anything like this. Even when she’d touched herself alone in her room at night.
Even that one time when she’d done it with a classmate in high school.
It had been quick and dirty, something to do to get it out of the way and over with.
Ryder’s mouth on her pussy was something else entirely.
“Ryder,” she moaned, the intensity rising.
He didn’t stop or let up; he kept licking her clit while he pressed two fingers into her soaking wet channel. When he curled them upward, Nell felt a deep internal pressure that she’d only felt once before.
“Ryder,” she gasped. “I’m coming!”