“It’s not the same without everyone here, so if Ryan gives up and acknowledges me as the true winner, we can leave now.” She tilts her head and watches me expectantly.
“So, it’s like that, is it?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“It’s definitely like that,” she says with a satisfied smirk.
“Try not to make it awkward, guys. I’m standing right here.” Carson shakes his head and shifts his feet.
Maintaining eye contact, I run my thumb over my bottom lip. “You win. Let’s go home.”
Thirty-One
It’s a quick drive back to the yellow house, but I can’t get there soon enough.
I’d been having fun with Ryan at the bar—joking, laughing, flirting. But after we left, Braden’s messages replayed in my mind. Knowing he had been watching me twists an otherwise good night into something else. I’m trying to shake it off, reminding myself the night belongs to Ryan and me, not him.
After thanking Carson for the ride, I practically drag Ryan up the sidewalk to the back door.
He chuckles when I punch the wrong code into the lock. Gripping my hip, he leans close to my ear. “Slow down, Baby. No need to rush.” I shiver as his warm breath grazes my neck.
My second attempt is successful. Turning the knob, I stumble through the door into the mudroom, pulling Ryan with me. I slam it shut and grab his shirt, pushing him back against the wall. My lips crash onto his for exactly three seconds before the alarm by the door lights up and starts beeping.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mumble, reaching for the keypad and entering the numbers without fully breaking the kiss.
He takes only a moment to catch up. With one hand on my waist, the other travels up the column of my neck, squeezing gently. I moan into his lips, deepening the kiss as my hands wrap around his back.
I gasp when Ryan takes control, leading us into the kitchen, guiding me backwards until the edge of the harvest table presses against the back of my thighs. When he pulls away, I’m caught by the intensity in his eyes, dark and full of want in the dim light.
“We should talk first,” he says softly, running his fingers through my hair.
“Fuck first, talk later,” I say, running my hand over the hard bulge in his pants.
His breath hitches. “You make it hard to say no to you.”
“Then don’t.” I kiss him again.
“We need to talk about what happened at the bar,” he says, voice rough as he presses against me.
“And we will.” I nip his bottom lip gently. “Later.”
“Fuck.” A low groan escapes him as I squeeze him a little harder.
Pulling back, I lift the hem of my shirt, and he helps me tug it over my head and lets it fall to the floor. His hand slides over my ribs and around my back. With one swift motion, he unclasps my lacy black bra and peels it away. My skin prickles in the cool air.
Twisting my hair around his fist, he tips my head back, his lips trailing from mine, down along my jaw, to the pulse in my neck.
“Ryan,” I whimper, leaning into him as he gently sucks.
He releases me and asks in a ragged voice, “What do you need?”
“You,” I groan. “All of you.”
“You have me,” he says, as I watch him lower himself to one knee to slip off my boots. Winking, he slowly lowers the zipper of the first and slides it from my foot, followed by my sock. Hepresses a gentle kiss on the inside of my knee before moving to the other side and repeating the process.
Rising, he keeps his stormy eyes locked on mine as he unbuttons the top of my jeans and drags down the zipper. When he hooks his thumbs under my waistband, I grin and wiggle my hips as he pulls my pants and thong down over my ass and thighs. When they pool at my feet, I kick them out of the way.
Everything inside me softens. The rush to get as close as possible, as fast as possible, has melted away.
I lift myself onto the table, leaning back on my palms, chest rising and falling too quickly as I watch him, watching me with adoration in his eyes. No one has ever made me feel like this.
