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I shrug, giving a coy smile as I push myself up to standing, dusting off my behind and being all too aware of Riley’s eyes moving over me before focusing back on my eyes as I say, “You could say that.”
“Well, be careful. There are a lot of creeps out there.”
I scoff, moving to walk past him, needing space if he is going to stand there half naked and dripping wet. “You act like this is my first time at the rodeo.”
But just as I pass him, he takes hold of my forearm, stopping me and leaning in enough to whisper in a gruff voice I haven't heard before but so desperately want to hear again. “Well, some guys might be a bit harder to control, harder to ride.”
I bite my lip at his words, images of me riding his cock flashing in my mind, and I can’t help the flirty smile I give him. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
As he lets go and I walk away, I make the decision to try and see where this goes. He was obviously checking me out. He holds me at night, so what will he do if I give him a little push… or two?
CHAPTER 41
RILEY
Mia has been in the bathroom for over an hour, and I can’t figure out what the fuck she is doing in there. The shower stopped running some time ago, and every now and then, I hear her belting out the chorus toLivin’ on a Prayer,so I know she is still alive at least.
My hunger's building from a long day, desperate for food, so I knock on the door of the bathroom, the steam coming out from the bottom of the door as I call out to her, “Mia? You hungry? I’m gonna start making dinner.”
“Great! I’ll be out soon.” I distantly hear the flicker of a towel as I retreat to start cooking some much-needed food.
I’ve been hungrier for other things ever since I saw her lying on the deck in nothing but a tiny red bikini that left nothing to the imagination, and I was loving it and cursing it at the same time. It didn’t help when I overheard her talking to someone on the phone about begging, which instantly put images of Mia on her knees before me with her mouth plump and wet, hungry.
I clench my fists, trying to shake the idea out of my head but unable to suppress the territorial rage I felt at another guy touching her.
No fucking way. I know that sounds selfish because if I won’t have her, then someone else should. But I’ve accepted the fact that I am a selfish motherfucker and I’m not sharing her.
I doubt I’ll get through this weekend, especially if she wears anything like that red bikini this whole trip.
I’m so lost in my thoughts, throwing the chicken in the oven to bake with some chopped up vegetables, with the image of Mia barely dressed burned into my brain that I don’t even notice her enter the room until she breaks the silence in the kitchen.
“Dinner smells good.” I turn at the sound of her voice, the warmth in it, and almost swallow my tongue.
Before me, she stands leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen, her hair wild like she's just been fucked, red lips that draw the eye, and clinging to her body is a tight black dress that hits mid-thigh, dipping low and plunging down to highlight a nice amount of cleavage. Any other man would be grovelling at the sight of her right now, whereas I am in hell and will be surprised if I make it through the night, based on the mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she stares at me dressed more casual in jeans and a black shirt.
I swallow, clearing my throat, as I lean against the counter, looking at her. “It’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”
Needing something to do besides undress her with my eyes, I make my way over to the refrigerator, opening it and asking without looking at her, “They have wine if you want any?”
“Sounds perfect.”
I pour her a glass of white wine, pushing it towards her and pulling out a beer for myself, taking a long pull as she enters the room, taking a sip from the wine before leaning against the counter.
I point my beer to her dress. “Why the dress?”
She shrugs, a playful smile on her lips, making it harder. “Why not?”
“I thought you would wanna save that for the guy you were talking about earlier,” I say before I can stop myself, hating the emotion and jealousy I put into those words. I know she heard it when she raises her brow.
“Jealous?”
I scoff, “No.” I pause, trying to hold back the question until it practically forces its way out of my mouth. “Anyone I know?”
Her eyes twinkle again. “You could say that.” I watch as her eyes run over me as she takes another sip, but through all this confidence, I notice a slight shake in her hands as she lifts the wineglass to her lips.
I furrow my brows as she smiles, lowering her glass and asks, “Wanna play a game while we wait for the food?”
I cock my head, regarding her, feeling like I’m missing the point of something. “What game?”
