My heartrate picks up, the emotions I’ve been trying to hold on a leash flooding my system. I reach up, tangling my fingers in his hair as I pull his mouth to mine.
The kiss is fire. Desperate, consuming, electric. Confessions without words. Declarations in every sweep of our tongues. He wraps me in his arms, one hand sliding down my lower back while the other cups the nape of my neck, holding me against his chest.
The world falls away. Stops spinning. Flattens. Implodes around us and rebuilds again. New, shiny, full of trust, love, and affection like I’ve never experienced.
Ryder breaks the kiss, touching his forehead to mine. “You’re cruel,” he whispers again, a small smirk tugging his lips.
“You’re exhausting,” I shoot back.
“And you’re mine.”
The words settle in my chest, filling the empty spaces I didn’t know existed. For the first time ever, I feel steady. Whole.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, then step out of his reach.
I understand why he won’t show me off, but that doesn’t mean I agree with his reasoning. It doesn’t mean I like it. It also doesn’t mean I can’t make his life a little more difficult.
“I’m not wearing panties, so good luck keeping your hands to yourself.”
His smirk vanishes, replaced by an animalistic, predatory look that makes heat pool low in my belly. He pounces, grabbing my waist to pin me against the wall. He towers above me, quickening my pulse. I love how big he is. How he hides me in his arms and shields me from the world.
“You’re playing with fire, baby,” he grits out, dipping his head for a kiss as I turn away at the last second.
His lips graze my cheek.
“No, no, no,” I say, lilting my voice like I’m addressing a misbehaving child. I tap his chest with each word as I add, “You saidno touching.”
“We’re alone,” he counters, his tone caught between warning and desperation. He tries kissing me again, tilts my chin with his fingers, but I duck under his arm, twisting out of his grasp.
“Hands to yourself, sir,” I tease, tugging the hem of my dress back in place.
Ryder groans with pure frustration. He rakes a hand through his hair, his chest heaving with the effort to rein in his desire. I almost moan when he betrays his lack of self-control by adjusting himself in his pants.
“That’s how you want to play?” He steps closer, his hands hovering over my cheeks before falling away. “You’re on. Let’s see who lasts longer.” He grabs the doorknob and glances over his shoulder. “Don’t make yourself an accessory to murder by letting anyone touch you.”
***
A long line of partygoers, dressed to impress, stretches down the block as Ryder parks outside the club. He throws the keys at one of the three bouncers at the door, a silent order to park his car at the back ofScarlett. Music spills out onto the street, the bass so potent the pavement vibrates under my shoes.
Ryder walks beside me as we bypass the crowd, heading straight for the entrance. He doesn’t touch me, but his hands flex open and closed, like he’s fighting an internal battle.
Good. Let him writhe.
I hope he’s uncomfortably hard all evening... as hard as I am wet, my arousal sticky on my inner thighs. I’m already regretting this little game. Just knowing it’s a game heightens my senses and elevates the aching need.
An order for him to take me back home clogs my throat, but I swallow the words. I have the upper hand. I’mnota quitter.
Patience is a virtue. And patience isrewarded. Though, in this case, I bet it will be a divine punishment once we get back home. Ryder fucks like a machine when his temper kicks in.
We enter the club, greeted by a symphony of chaos. Heat and smoke tango through the air together, while strobe lights paint everything in flashes of neon. The familiar scent of alcohol blends with expensive colognes and perfumes.
Arthur waits inside the VIP area, his spine straightening when he spots us. “I owe you both an apology.” He inhales deeply as if bracing for a long monologue.
“No, you don’t,” I cut in before he spirals. “It wasn’t your fault. Things just... happened.”
His gaze shifts to Ryder. “I should’ve been more careful. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Ryder doesn’t respond. He glares like he’s wondering whether to throw a punch or let it slide.
