His tone is dry and monotone. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
My breath hitches in my throat as our eyes lock. “Ryne.” He swallows hard again and scoots closer into my personal bubble. I like him all up in my space, and slowly lift a hand to his face. My heart explodes when he presses into my touch and closes his eyes. I say his name a second time, whispering it. His eyes fly back open and he wets his lips. His eyes are bright but uncertainty flickers in them. He holds my gaze and doesn’t pull away. The confident, cocky man I’ve come to know stares at me with unflinching determination, but behind him peeking his head around the metaphorical corner is the little boy who lost his father when he was way too young, the little boy whose mother selfishly left behind two amazing kids and then tried to weasel her way back in to take advantage of him, the little boy who puts on a brave face day after day but just wants to be loved. My insides melt a little more and I fall a little harder.
“It’s just…” his voice trails off and I get lost in his eyes again.
Ryne Sutton, Mr. ‘I don’t give a fuck,’ looks at me like he’s suffocating and I’m his last breath of air. Moody. Cold. Empty. These are words I’ve heard others use to describe him. Hell, even his friends will tell anyone who asks he can be a real dick. He’s camouflaged behind an attitude that’s as likely to be apathetic and dismissive as it is to go from zero to a hundred on the anger scale in point two seconds. But his eyes always tell a different story; they expose his truth and his vulnerability. He’s not cold, not emotionless. From the first moment we met, his emotions have blazed hot and bright, so tangible I could almost reach out and touch them. I’ve seen the kind of man Ryne is through his actions when other people aren’t watching and he lets his shields drop. He’s quick to come to the aid of his friends, no questions asked. Yes, they also rag on each other all the time, but honestly, the snark is part of the charm. And we work, I know we do. His walls and shields don’t work on me. I see him. The real him. I always have.
He starts over again. “I tried so hard to ignore this thing between us but the pull is so goddamn strong. I was in denial but obviously attracted to you and thought I’d do my usual bit. But you’re different, it felt different, and that freaked me out. You’re so good, Dacen. You deserve better and—”
I put two fingers over his lips to shut him up. “Don’t go there. I don’t want to hear it. It’s not true.”
Ryne rolls his eyes and nods, so I remove my fingers.
“Anyway, I shoved you away, over and over, only to yank you back just as quickly. I’m amazed you don’t have whiplash.” He takes a big breath and the next stream of words rides out of his mouth on the exhale. “Truth is, I’m completely addicted to you. I’ve missed you so much. I hope you can forgive me for being such a dick because I’m a selfish bastard and I’m asking for yet another chance. I can change. I can be better.”
“I don’t want you to change or ‘be better,’ Ryne. I want you to be yourself, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And not just some of the time. All of the time. But I need you to trust me and not push me away again. Talk to me if something’s bothering you. You put yourself out there these last few days and that must have been hard. I loved it, everything about it. I appreciate everything you did, Ryne. We have to be open with each other.”
“I can do that.” His voice is raw and honest.
“Good. So… you’re addicted to me, huh?” One of his whole-face smiles takes over and my stomach flip-flops as usual. “I hope there’s no cure for your addiction.”
“There’s not, babe. Believe me. I tried and epically failed. There’s no cure.”
“In that case, you better kiss me again. Because I am completely addicted to you too, Sweet Cheeks.”
* * *
I hangout at Ryne’s all day. I didn’t want to go home and Ryne was pretty adamant I stay. I took a shower in their upstairs bathroom. He all but threw a towel, a pair of sweatpants, and some boxers—from a new pack he hasn’t worn yet, not that I really mind—at me and shoved me into the hallway. I’m back lounging on his bed, entertaining myself with my phone while he takes a shower.
When the door creaks open and he slips inside the room, I nearly drop my phone on my face again. His hair’s a wet mess and he stands before me in only a towel. A white towel. A white towel that clearly shows the outline of a certain body part. I’m dead. I’ve died from exposure to hotness. Total sensory overload. He smells delicious and looks even more so, with water dripping from his hair down along his bare chest. I watch a drop snake its way through the ridges of his abs and have the sudden urge to lick every last drop of water from his body. My face heats when he lets the towel slip a little, and the wider my eyes get, the more his grin spreads.
I’m tripping over myself as I scramble off the bed and stumble over to him. I don’t know if it’s because I’m closer now or because it clearly grew more in the last few seconds, but the outline of his dick is even more pronounced. My fingers trail over his chest and abs but my eyes are completely focused on the towel. He lets it drop another inch and I suck in a breath. It’s not like I’ve never seen his dick before. I’m well and truly acquainted with it. But he’s teasing me, and that’s hot. Wicked hot. It feels like it’s been eons since I touched him and tasted him. We kissed yesterday, and there was the whole rubbing myself on him this morning, but really it’s been ages and I’m Ryne-starved. I beg silently, focused solely on what I want right now.
Drop the towel, Ryne. Drop the towel. For the love of all that is holy… Drop. The Damn. Towel. It repeats over and over in my head like a broken record until there’s a knock on the door and that record screeches to a halt.
“Ryne, honey, I’ve got some of your laundry here.”
Oh God.
Don’t drop the towel.
I shuffle backward a step. One corner of Ryne’s mouth slowly pulls up and transforms his grin into a devilish smirk and he lets the towel slip another inch.
“Thanks, Aunt Lily. Set it down if you don’t mind and I’ll grab it in a few.”
“Okay. We’re about to head out. Call or text if you need anything, sweetie.”
“Okay, thanks.” Ryne reaches behind himself and pushes in the lock on the door. It’s completely silent in the room as I strain to hear if his aunt walked away or not, and that click of the door lock seems as loud as an airplane engine. My eyes widen and Ryne’s smirk deepens. He lets go of his towel and as it drops to the floor he grabs me by the hips and yanks me forward.
I’ve died. Heaven. This must be it.
49
Ryne
Dacen looks like he’s about two seconds away from exploding when I run my palms over his chest and pinch his nipples. I’d neglected to mention to him that Rylee’s over at her friend’s house and my aunt and uncle have plans this afternoon. Plans outside of the house. Lily told me about them when I’d run downstairs earlier while Dacen showered. She looked like she had more to say but it was Nathan who’d slapped his hand down on my shoulder and told me to use protection. They’re not stupid, and I’m sure they’d rather not think about their nephew getting some action, but I’m eighteen so what are they really going to say? The sound of the garage door closing echoes through my room. The expression on Dacen’s face when he realizes we’re alone is priceless. He licks his lips and wraps his hands around my biceps. His pupils are huge and I have to force myself to breathe slowly when he grabs my hands and places them on his ass.
I slip inside his sweatpants and squeeze him lightly, then lean down until we’re nose to nose. “I wanna fuck you, D.” I squeeze his ass again and spread him apart gently, then run my lips over his cheek and back to his ear. “I want to fill you up, to take this ass and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week. Are you gonna let me in?” My words rumble to the surface from somewhere deep inside me, and goosebumps pop up on his skin.
