Please touch me. Please touch me. Please touch me.
I close my eyes and hold steady, repeating the words in my head like a prayer I hope he hears.
God, what’s wrong with me?
The second he touches me, everything changes. I won’t be able to look Benny in the eye ever again. The whole town will be talking about us. I’d be known as the desperate young girl who fell for the hot old dude. I’d be known as the girl who screwed her brother’s best friend. I’d be a pariah, and I’m pretty sure no one is going to want to buy fresh eggs and homemade bread from a pariah.
While I’m lost in what-if’s, the rough tips of Ryker’s fingers trail along the seam where my zipper once was. His skin barely touches mine, but that’s almost more erotic.
A chill runs through me, and my clit throbs as my panties soak.
“You like being taken care of, don’t you?” His voice is low and husky.
“What? No.” I swallow hard, his warm breath on the back of my neck. “I’ve actually been saying theoppositeof that. I take care of myself.”
“You can be real with me, trouble. I know you love giving up control.” His voice is low and rough as his fingertips rise to the back of my ear, slide down the side of my neck, and push the strap of my dress off my shoulder. “I feel it in the way your body responds. You like commands. It takes the weight away.”
My heart pounds as he follows the path back up my shoulder, his hand like sandpaper against my skin.
“Pull down the other strap,” he growls slowly as he leans into my ear.
Oh damn!
I glance down to see if I’m leaving a puddle on his pretty pine floors. Nothing yet, but my panties are drenched. They’re so soaked that I figure I may as well do as he’s asked and pull the other strap down off my shoulder. I lower the strap and stand perfectly still as the short red dress drops to the ground and exposes me for the second time today.
His breath is heavy behind me, warm on my skin, and I feel the desperation in his body against mine as the ridge of his hard cock presses against my back.
“Take the sweatshirt off the bed and hand it back to me,” he commands, dark and breathy.
I bend forward slightly, bumping against his rough jeans as I reach for the sweatshirt and hand it back to him, my gaze still ahead.
“Good girl. Now lift your arms up.”
I pause for a second, wondering why this is getting me off. I’m pretty sure one brush against my clit and I’d come right here and now. I’d come, and then I’d spread wide for him and let him give me every inch of what he’s got… for free! I wouldn’t even make him pay for my virginity.
Now I know something’s wrong with me! I really need that money!
Lifting my arms, he slips the sweatshirt into place, his big, rough hands skating down my body, brushing against the sides of my breasts.
“Now go wash up for dinner.” He’s breathing hard and I feel the struggle in his throat as he talks. The shake, the tremble, the desperation in his throat before he stalks out of the room, hisbody footsteps tight as though he’s angry with himself, as though he can’t look me in the eye.
Truthfully, I’m not sure I can ever look him in the eye again either. I mean, how do I do that? He’s known me forever. I’ve known him forever. We shouldn’t be doing this. He should know better. I should know better… and yet, all I want is for him to touch me again and again.
Chapter Four
Ryker
Fuck!This is going to be a problem.
My pulse flies as I scoop pasta onto two plates and pour sauce on top. I’m a dominant guy, but I never imagined myself as the type who’d get off on a power exchange. Hell, I don’t think it’s even the power exchange in general.
I think it’s her.She’s trouble. It’s her energy that makes me feral like this. Her energy that makes me want to do things I’ve dreamt of but never thought I’d actually do.
I set the plates on the table with some garlic bread from the freezer, not the fresh kind. Had I known she was coming, I would’ve planned something better than jarred sauce and subpar bread, but this is where we’re at.
“Come sit,” I grunt into the hallway. She’s been back there for a while. Who the hell knows what she’s thinking? I’ve probably fucked everything up. I should’ve kept my cool. I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have—
She steps into the dining room, her small body swallowed up in my sweatshirt, the fabric hanging well past her knees, her hands hidden somewhere in the sleeves as her long blonde hair drapes down over her shoulders.
