“We’re going back to my cabin.”
I laugh one loud, short laugh. “Do you have handcuffs already or are you planning to use rope? ‘Cause if you don’t have a plan, I’ll get bored, and I’m really annoying when I’m bored.”
“You won’t be bored.” He shifts the truck into gear and pulls out into the street. “You’ll be too busy following directions.”
My clit throbs and I press my hips against the seat of his truck in an attempt to calm the ache. Why does the thought of him giving me direction cause that reaction? I hate taking directions. I hate feeling controlled. In fact, I’ve been trying to stop him from controlling me for as long as I can remember.
I scoff as we pull onto a long, winding mountain road lined with tall pine and cedar. “You and I both know I don’t do well taking orders.”
He shakes his head like he knows better. “Youpretendnot to like it, but I know you better than that.”
The thought of him knowing me well enough to have absorbed something so subtle is an intimacy I’ve never felt before with any other human being… ever. My clit throbs thesame way it did when he had his rough hand on the back of my neck at my apartment.
God, what’s happening, and does he mean these things as sexually as they sound… ‘cause I’m creamy, slippery, and soaking wet right now.
Hand outstretched, he pushes the dial on the radio and turns it to a country station. I always thought this was a weird attribute about Ryker. He’s this big, tough, monster of a guy who looks angry all the time, but he loves country ballads. I think if I met him on the street, I would assume he was more of a metal dude with all the tattoos, muscles, and dark features. Metal or maybe old rock. I’d have guessed any kind of music over this country ballad about lost love and dirt.
“You want a gummy bear?” I reach into my purse and pull out a package of cinnamon bears, desperate for a distraction.
“You were bringing cinnamon gummy bears to your first prostitution?” He holds out his hand as he snarks. “That’s weird.”
“If you’re going to talk like that, I’m not giving you any.”
Ignoring my sass, he reaches his hand in the bag anyway, grabbing a handful without permission.
How very,Rykerof him. Taking things without permission.
“What about my car?” I ask, biting the head off a gummy. “I left it parked in front of the bar. A delivery truck was blocking my parking spot at the pizza shop when I got home last night.”
He palms ten bears into his mouth at once, talking with his mouth full. “It’s a distillery, not a bar, and that car is a death trap. You shouldn’t be driving it, anyway.”
“How could it still be a death trap? You’ve been secretly working on it every time I park.”
“How’d you know that?”
I laugh as I chew on the sugary sweet bear. “You’re like the biggest dude on Earth. The man on the moon saw you fixing my car. Thank you, by the way. The brakes are actually braking now.”
He shakes his head as he feeds his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Even that makes my pussy ache.
Why? What’s happening to me?Two hours ago, I was content with understanding the urges I had for him were ridiculous. Now, my knees ache, I’m lightheaded, and all I can think about is what he’d feel like pressing inside of me, what his beard would feel like between my legs, what his strong hands would feel like on my throat.
“You like pasta?”
“Pasta?” I repeat with narrowed brows.
“For dinner. I have pasta, and I bought one of those chocolate cake boxes a few weeks ago I thought we could make.”
“Oh, you’re a nice kidnapper. That’s fun. Do you make the chocolate cake for me, or do I make it for you?”
He smirks. “I think it’s only fair that you make it for me.”
“How is that fair?” I snap a playfully sour look in his direction. “This little charade is costing me 50 thousand. The least you could do is make me a cake.”
He pauses as he turns left up the old dirt road that leads to his cabin. “I think you’ll be a good girl and you’ll make the cake.”
Good girl? Did he really just say that?
Okay, now I know he’s being sexual.There’s no way a man says to be a good girl while demanding you make them a chocolate cake because they want to watch Wheel of Fortune together… right?
