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"You okay?" he asked, barely more than a rumble.
I didn't answer.
Because I was.
I was more okay than I had been in an impossibly long time.
So instead of responding, my lips crashed back down on his, feeling them curve into a smile before they started kissing me back- harder, hungrier, as needy as I felt.
Without me being conscious of telling my body to do so, my hips rocked against him, making his hardness press against where I needed him most, making me let out a moan as he made a growling noise in response, his fingers tightening hard enough to bruise.
And it was right then that I felt an unmistakable vibrating against my inner thigh where his pocket was situated.
"Fuck it," he mumbled against my lips.
I had to agree.
Fuck it.
It stopped, but as my hips did another delicious swipe, it started again, making him make an angry sound as I pulled back. My eyes opened slowly, feeling weighted, finding his equally heavy-lidded.
"It might be important," I heard myself mumble, my voice low with desire, a little breathless.
Then like to prove my point, there was a short pause before it started up again.
"Fuck," he snapped as I slid off his lap and to the side, pressing my thighs tightly together to try to stem the desire there. He reached for his pocket, slamming his finger against the screen and bringing it up to his ear while barking out, "What?"
He listened for a long moment as I tried desperately to get myself together.
It wasn't that I didn't have a normal sex drive. I did. In fact, back in the day, it might have been considered high. But when you are shut-in your apartment all by yourself for long enough, it slowly ebbed away. Because, quite frankly, your own fingers and vibrators, well, just didn't cut it. It wasn't the same. It was lacking. And eventually, I lost interest in it.
So to have it come roaring back to life after so long it was almost completely overwhelming- the racing heart, the tingling skin, the heaviness in my breasts and lower stomach, the aching need between my legs.
"Honey," Ryan's voice called, making my head jerk up to find him watching me, the phone already tucked away.
"Yeah?"
"That was work," he offered, sounding sorry already.
I knew what that meant.
"You have to go."
"Unfortunately," he agreed, nodding. His hand reached out to touch my knee, his thumb rubbing across it reassuringly.
Unsure what I was supposed to say, I tried for casual and shrugged a shoulder. "Okay."
"Hey," he said, ducking his head a little to catch my eyes that had fallen slightly, wanting to not show how disappointed I was. "What are you doing New Years Eve?" he asked oddly, making my head snap up, my brows drawing together.
"New Years Eve?" I parroted.
New Years Eve was five days away.
Five.
Work was going to take him away for five days?
"Yeah, with the champagne and the big ball falling from the sky and that song that is supposed to cheer people up but always sounds sad..."
I smiled a little at that. "Um, I don't exactly have a wild social life here, Ryan," I said, waving a hand out. "I'll be watching the TV with Rocky," I added, looking around and realizing he hadn't come charging in to scratch the ever-loving hell out of Ryan. It was completely unlike him. I even had to lock him in the bedroom when my uncle visited.
"How about you think about coming over to my place?" he offered.
His place.
Considering it was all of five feet away from my door, it almost seemed laughable that he was asking that so far in advance.
"Figured I would suggest it early so you could work yourself up to it," he added, making my lips fall open slightly, surprised that he got it.
I would have to work myself up to it.
And even then, there were no guarantees.
"I can work on that," I said, nodding. "I can't make any prom..."
"Wasn't asking for promises," he cut me off. "Just tell me you'll try and I will be happy. And not," he went on as he started to slowly stand, "disappointed if you can't do it."
"No expectations?" I asked, standing as well, finding myself both impressed and confused. Confused because everyone always had expectations. Impressed that he thought to tell me that he wouldn't mind if I couldn't force myself to do it.
"Nope," he said with a head shake as he shrugged into a jacket. Then his smile went just a tiny bit devilish as he added, "If you don't come my way, I'm inviting myself over here. So either way, I win." I smiled at that- big, happier than I had been in longer than I cared to admit. "Thanks for the present and the cookies and the company," he said as he moved toward the door. Good manners had me following behind, reaching to hold the side of the door as he stepped into the doorway. "Merry Christmas, Dusty," he said, leaning down and planting a chaste and utterly melt-worthy kiss to my forehead before moving down the hall.
