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It feels so fucking good, being with Ryan. Whatever we’re doing—eating breakfast, dying my hair, taking shower cap selfies, trashing a shitty TV thriller while we wait for the dye to set—I’m where I belong. I’m happy. Satisfied. At ease.
But now that I’m putting on a show…
I hang my towel on the rack. Slide into my sexiest thong—a la
cy black thing. Pull on a black mini skirt and that tight white crop top he loves.
Not that he’s ever told me he loves it.
More that he stares at my tits enough I know he loves it.
My nipples peek through the sheer fabric.
It’s sexy as hell.
I look good. But then that’s never really been a question. I have the occasional moment of insecurity. What girl doesn’t? But I’m happy with my appearance. I may not be the most gorgeous girl in the world, but I’m in shape. I take care of myself. I work my angles.
Deep breath.
I slide on my black slingback pumps and I step into the main room.
The curtains are down. The string lights twinkle in shades of red and pink.
Ryan’s eyes go wide as he takes me in. “You look amazing, baby.”
“Thanks.” My gait is unsteady. “Could you get the Bluetooth speakers?”
He nods. Reaches for the speaker to turn it on.
It’s three steps to the dining table. I pick up my phone. Stream the first song that comes to mind.
My favorite band. The one with the breathy, tortured singer. I introduced Ryan. He constantly teases me about just how broken the lyricist is, but he can’t hide how much he loves it.
They’re our band.
A heavy guitar riff fills the air.
Then it’s the singer’s breathy vocals.
I can’t remember what he’s saying. But there’s no ignoring how much he sounds like he’s in the middle of a fuck.
Ryan’s eyes meet mine. “Perfect.”
I nod as I take a step forward. With the lights off and the music blaring, my tiny apartment feels like a private room in some club.
At least if I keep my eyes on Ryan.
I swing my hips, strutting slowly as I approach him.
His gaze travels up my body. From my shiny heels, to my short skirt, over my bare midriff and my low-cut white top, to my red lips.
To my eyes.
There.
My knees brush his legs. His jeans are rough against my skin.
I stare back at him as I slide into his lap.
