“So, you feel it too then.”
“It’s just chemistry.”
Ryker pulled back, gave me that smirk that made my insides melt. “Is that all this is?”
My cheeks heated, and his gaze snapped right to them, tracking the blush as it spread. His smirk widened into a knowing smile that said he could read every thought racing through my head.
“It’s all it can be,” I managed, but even I heard how weak it sounded.
“So, you do feel something more.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but it was too late. I’d been completely busted. My face had already confessed everything my mouth wouldn’t say.
“I rest my case.” Ryker’s lips found mine before I could come back with a witty retort.
And then his hands started their exploration. They trailed down my neck with devastating slowness, along my collarbone, like he was memorizing the shape of me. Down my ribs, counting each one. When they tugged at the hem of my shirt, I forgot how to breathe.
I loved that he trailed his fingers slowly up beneath the fabric, giving me time to push them away if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. He kept kissing me along my jaw, down my neck, as his fingers inched upward with maddening patience. I loved the moan that escaped him when he finally cupped my breast through my bra. The sound was pure want, pure appreciation.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said against my throat. “No other woman has ever had the hold on me that you do.”
Maybe giving in would be a good thing. All that tension would finally go away. Right? It was as good of an argument as any my lust-fogged brain could manufacture.
So, I didn’t stop him when he breached the fabric of my bra and found sensitive skin. In fact, I groaned. Loud. Too loud.
I needed to be careful. In theory, we still had time before Dakota returned with takeout food (was it just me, or did she “have” to go get it herself on purpose, to leave us alone?), but I didn’t trust myself not to lose track of time. Not when Ryker was touching me like this, like I was something precious and desired, all at once.
Ryker pressed me against the wall, his obvious desire hard against my thigh. The length of him made my mouth water.
“You know what I’ve imagined doing to you?” He squeezed my breast.
“Tell me.” My voice didn’t sound like mine anymore.
He slipped his fingers lower, teasing the hem of my jeans. Thank you, wardrobe gods, that I’d picked my loose-fitting jeans today. So much easier to accommodate wandering hands.
“Burying my tongue inside of you.” His words were hot against my ear.
Holy shit.
“Having you sit on my face.”
His palm pressed flat against my stomach, his fingers sliding down, breaching the hem of my panties.
“Watching you as you ride my mouth until you come.”
His fingertip slipped through my folds, and he groaned.
“Already wet for me.” His voice held masculine satisfaction that made me clench.
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.
“Tell me what you’ve imagined,” he growled. Knowing full well I had imagined plenty. It was sexy that he had the confidence to know it. Sexier that he wanted to hear it. That he needed to know he affected me the same way.
“I’ve thought about burying you in my throat,” I admitted weakly, the confession pulled from somewhere deep.
Ryker growled and buried his lips back against my neck, sucking at the spot where my pulse hammered.
He slipped his fingers through my folds once more, coating himself in my arousal, before moving to that bundle of nerves that made me gasp.
