Cap. I liked that he gave me a nickname, but I also liked how his eyes heated when he said it. I could tell it wasn't the same as the 'handsome' or 'sugar' he threw at the fans who gushed about his performances. It was special. He made me feel special. It was… nice.
UGH. What am I doing here AGAIN? I don't even know what this is. Am I really going to walk to the bar and wait for him? Is he here? Shit, maybe he's not performing tonight. Fuck, I didn't think of that. Plus, maybe he has a boyfriend or a husband and was just being nice to me. Maybe he doesn't even like me that way.
I'm so caught up in my head I don't even register his body when he slides up behind me.
"Wow." My whole body tensed up at the feeling of him so close behind me and the sound of his voice.
"To what or maybe to whom do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?" His voice is like silk against the back of my neck, and now other parts of me are tensing up. Thankfully, my suit jacket covers my growing erection. I turn to face the beautiful man I can't get out of my head.
I decided earlier that if I see him tonight, I'm going to be open about why I'm here. I'm going to put my big boy pants on and ask the man out. "That would be all you. I couldn't keep away from here, hoping to see you again."
“Well, here I am.” Taking a half step closer, his chest is almost brushing mine as he leans in. “Now, what are you going to do with me?” He asks as his eyes take a lazy stroll down my body and pause at the clear bulge in my pants. My throat goes dry, and I open my mouth to respond, but for the first time in my life, I’m speechless.
I’m a fucking lawyer. I make money by speaking. I came here to find him, and now that I have, I’ve turned into a mannequin… great, way to go, Drew, you fucking dumbass.
"What do you say we go get something to eat after my set?" His question pulls me out of my haze, but all I can manage is a nod before my brain comes back online, and I realize he's closer now, so close I can smell the spicy cologne he's wearing mixed with the fresh scent of soap.
I want to take a deep inhale and get high on his scent.“There is nothing I would like more.” I lift my hand to his gorgeous face and trace my fingers along his jaw.
“Will you sing something for me tonight?”
“I was kind of hoping I’d meet you here again. I might have even prepared something for this occasion. You just have to wait and see,” he winks and smiles mischievously.
“I can’t wait to hear it then,” I say as calmly as I can with my heart pounding so hard in my chest. He was waiting for me. He wanted to see me. He even planned on a song for me. Oh man! I’m so screwed!
Ryan turns to the stage just in time as one of the bartenders calls him in. He goes without hesitation and puts on his guitar.
“Good evening, beautiful people. I’m Ryan, as you may have already heard, and I’m your entertainer for tonight.” After a loud round of applause, the first accords of the acoustic guitar play out. He lifts his head, looks directly into my eyes, and starts singing a cover of “Don’t Stop the Music” by Rihanna. Motherfucker.
Words to this song vibrate through my mind just as Ryan's voice vibrates through my body. The way his version is slowed down makes it so much more seductive and exhilarating. It's like he's using the song to tell me his wants and desires, and he's making staying over here physically painful, never mind impossible.
Obviously, he realizes what he’s singing. He said he chose this song for me, apparently to torture me, like he knows what I have been thinking about night after night, wishing he was there with me.
When I close my eyes, I can easily imagine his long hair tight in my grip as my fingers close around his throat firmly. I would gently stroke the pad of my thumb over his stubbled jaw and down over his bobbing Adam's apple as I slide my cock along the length of his outstretched tongue. Snapping my hips forward, I'd close off his airway for just a fraction of a second.
He looks so pretty down there on his knees for me.
I hope he’s ready to follow through with this teasing because I’m so fucking ready, and he has no idea how much I’m going to own him.
CHAPTER 8
RYAN
It's been three days since Drew burst into Savage Ink and shattered my reality once again. I was so set in my belief that I had done the right thing. That I couldn't be a permanent afterthought in somebody's life.
Then he had to show up in his sexy suit and blow my fucking mind apart. Maybe this whole situation says more about me than it does about him. I was the one who packed up and left without having a conversation.
I was so far into my head and my pain that I didn't stop to tell him I was feeling neglected. I'm just so fucking confused right now I'm doubting my own mind. Drew wouldn't change. He would have told me he loves me and explained to me again how important this case is and how things will be different when he finally makes Partner.
I would have believed him because that's what I do. I believe the bullshit time and time again because I love him so fucking much that it was destroying me.
"Ughhhh," I groan loudly into the darkness of my room in Nyx's apartment. It's been three days, and I still can't get a full night's sleep. It's turned my life into Groundhog Day. I'm stuck in a hamster wheel.
I spend my days at the shop and my evenings hanging out with the guys or Nyx or going for a run.
When I go to bed, I'm physically and mentally tired, but the second I lay in the big, cold, empty bed, my brain wakes up and starts poking at me. Throwing all of these stupid notions and ideas of happily ever afters with Drew. Shit, I know isn't going to happen.
It's a goddamn fairytale to picture a happy life with a guy who forgot I existed, and yeah, he showed up, he talked the talk, but of course he did. He's a fucking lawyer. That's what he does. He showed up and made his opening statement, and now I'm poor juror number four, drowning in declarations of love and forever.
