“Smooth, Cage. Really smooth.” My phone pinged five more times, quickly. I sighed and darted my eyes over its screen.
I miss my cock in your mouth.
And your tight pussy.
You have such a tight pussy.
I miss hearing you cum.
What we had was great. I want it back.
I thumbed back a short response.
Please stop.
“You want a drink?” Ryan asked, placing a hand on the small of my back, before leading me to the bar. The slight pressure of his palm against me was like a pinpoint of fire that spread out in gentle pulsing waves along my spine.
I walked dreamily next to him, seemingly having lost all control of my mind. I cleared my throat and continued to smile straight ahead, nodding in answer. My tongue, it appeared, had lost the ability to form words.This wasn’t good.
Ryan escorted me further along the bar, and pulled over a stool, patting the seat with his hand. “Go on, sit that gorgeous ass down.”
I did as he said, stiffly, and placed my purse and my cell on the countertop. It went off three more times.
I can’t stop.
I can’t stop thinking about you and about us.
You never thanked me for the flowers.
I shoved my phone away angrily. I broke up with that asshole four weeks ago.I broke up with someone who never thought they were even in a relationship with me. Yet, he’d been sending me enormous bouquets of roses; so many that my entire house smelled like a funeral home. For weeks now.
My screen lit up again, and I stared at the words spelled out across it, from where I left it.
Don’t you miss me?
Don’t you miss us?
Yes, unfortunately, I did. I missed the times we spent getting to know one another and falling for each other, but what he did to me at the end was unforgivable. I was still shocked it happened. There were no signs of it coming. He just didn’t like something I said and boom, he thought he had the right to put his hands on me.Nope, I don’t play that way.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ryan asked, next to me, his eyes full of concern.
“Yeah, why?” I said, dropping my phone into my purse, so I wouldn’t hear it any more. I looked up to see him watching me closely.
He tilted his head and leaned in closer, making me gulp back a gasp. Up this close, Ryan Cage was absolutely breathtaking. “You’re getting upset over whoever is texting you,” he said, tapping his fingers on my purse.
“I’m fine, it’s nothing really.” I leaned back, the scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and I needed air—being so confined in the crowded bar with him smelling that good was making me dizzy.
His eyes lingered on mine for a long, intense drawn out moment. Around us, the crowd blended into blurry colors and muted to low background murmurs. Slowly, one corner of his lips tugged up in a slow, sexy smile.
He rubbed his thumb over the edge of my seat, and both of us looked down at it, watching the slow movement. The thought of his fingers so close to my legs sent shivers through my shoulders, and I physically shuddered on the stool.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, leaning closer to me again.
“Ex,” I breathed out, wetting my lips.They were so dry. Why were they so dry?
On the countertop my purse exploded with the sounds of texts and calls from deep inside. The sounds were making me furious. They were totally cutting into my Ryan Cage fantasy time.
“I kind of feel bad for the guy,” Ryan said, nudging his chin toward my bag.
