The mere warmth of his breath on my shoulder sent ripples of mind-blowing shudders down my spine. I bet one kiss would send me straight to the edge of an orgasm.
A knock on the bathroom door makes me jump. I accidentally shove the toothbrush down my throat, setting off my gag reflex, and my eyes water on cue.
“Just a minute,” I choke out around a mouthful of foam.
No more words are spoken. There’s a hard tug on the handle and the door swings wide open.
I spin around, coming face to face with Ryder.
He barges in, his hands finding my face, concern marring his features. His big body almost knocks me over when he pulls me into him. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.”
“Then what’s this?” Two wrinkles dent his forehead as he swipes a lone tear from under my left eye. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you last night?”
“No!” The word flies past my foamy mouth, toothpaste splattering his black t-shirt. “Shit, sorry.” I wriggle out of his embrace and spin around to rinse my mouth before I ruin his t-shirt any further.
He’s still close, hovering, watching me in the mirror while my heart thuds. The worry etched into his expression pokes that neglected string in my body.
“You startled me when you knocked,” I say once I’m done. “I was brushing my teeth and the toothbrush went down my throat. I have the worst gag reflex ever. I wasn’t crying.”
His shoulders slump. Relief and something else, something darker, bleeds into his features. “Sorry I barged in like that.”
“It’s okay. What did you want?”
His gaze wanders down my body, the delicate fabric of my night dress not concealing how hard my nipples are. His nostrils flare at the sight, his pupils growing.
My heart picks up the rhythm. Does he... does he still want me? He said it would only be once, but now he’s here, two feet away, looking like he wants to eat me.
“To ask if you’re hungry or if you’re starting your day with coffee again.”
I am hungry, though not for food.
“Coffee’s fine, thank you.”
With one last intense look into my eyes, he spins around and leaves, the door falling shut with a click.
I slump against the vanity cabinet, every fiber of me vibrating with the loss of his proximity. I’m wet again. Every time I move, I feel the effects of last night.
I love how sore I am. I’ll feel him inside me for days.
“We’re leaving soon,” he says when I join him in the kitchen. “Hailey asked if I could bring you over for coffee before we get on the road. Is that okay?”
“Yes. Unless we’re in a rush?”
He shakes his head, eyes on a spot over my shoulder. I know what he’s looking at... the cupboard he fucked me against last night. The feral look crossing his face is a clear indication he’s reliving the moment.
“Should we talk about...it?” I ask, hiding behind my cup.
“No. Don’t make me regret it by making things awkward. You said it yourself, we’re adults. We fucked and now it’s over.”
I give him a curt nod, ignoring my stomach wringing itself out like a wet rag. Why did I agree to his one-time clause? What was Ithinking? That one orgasm at his hands could ever be enough? That it’s a purely sexual attraction?
Yes. That’s exactly what I thought.
I never entertain feelings beyond lust.
I never date.
