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The truth isn’t something I’m ready to disclose.
“That this is fun,” I say with a forced smile.
It’s not a lie. The time I’ve spent with Ryder has been enjoyable. Even when I’m scared shitless while staring out at a crowd right before I belt out karaoke or when we’re sneaking into the athletic center after hours to skinny dip. He pulls me out of my shell and forces me to do things I wouldn’t normally contemplate.
“It is.”
One song bleeds into the next and then another until I lose track of how long we’re out on the dance floor. The thump of the bass vibrates through my bones and my eyelids feather shut as I tip my face upward, letting the notes and lyrics wash over me. My hands lift above my head. With Ryder’s arms wrapped protectively around me, I feel safe and insulated.
Everything that normally rests on my shoulders gradually fades away. I don’t think about my classes and whether or not I’ll be able to pull off straight As this semester. I don’t dwell on the MCAT or my med school applications. I don’t worry about the possibility of Mom relapsing.
I can simply live in the moment and pretend the other stuff doesn’t exist.
Even if it’s just for an hour or so.
When was the last time I felt this free?
This alive?
It’s even better than the party I attended a couple weeks ago because I’m perfectly sober and Ryder’s with me. His hands stroke from the blades of my shoulders to my waist and then dip lower to the curve of my ass before slowly drifting upward again. They’re so large and strong. The heat of his palms penetrates the fabric of my dress until it feels like I’m being scalded alive.
Branded.
That’s the only word for it.
As we continue to dance, he twists me in his arms until my spine is pressed against his chiseled front. His grip tightens as he pulls me close enough to feel the hard length of his erection against my lower back. Images from the night at the pool flash through my brain like a slow-motion picture show. When my head grows heavy, I allow it to fall back until it can rest against the solid strength of his chest as his lips settle near my temple.
Heat explodes in my core before throbbing a harsh beat in perfect rhythm to the music. His hands glide along my ribcage before settling beneath the swells of my breasts. My teeth sink into my lower lip as my eyelids crack open and I glance around, concerned people might be watching. But no one is paying the slightest bit of attention to us.
The pads of his thumbs slowly slide over my rounded curves. I’ve never been one for PDA, but there’s something deliciously sexy about him caressing me so openly with all these writhing bodies pressing in on us. I don’t know if it’s the club, the music, or the darkness that has lowered my inhibitions as all these thoughts pound rampantly through my brain, leaving me to feel turned on and achy for his slightest touch.
Or maybe it’s just Ryder.
And the fact that I’ve secretly crushed on him since I was a kid.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he growls against my ear.
That’s the thing…
I’ve never felt particularly sexy before. I’ve never been one to play up that part of my personality.
The hot rush of sensation thrumming through my veins makes me feel as if I’ve stepped out of my safe little world and into someone else’s.
All I know is that I want more.
But only with Ryder.
That thought should scare the crap out of me, and on some distant level, bells are ringing shrilly inside my brain. Because I can’t allow myself to fall for him. I need to enjoy this for what it is.
Fun.
An exercise in broadening my horizons.
As I move against him, his cock grows stiffer. His hands inch upward until he can cup my breasts, locking me against his muscular body as his fingers toy with my nipples through my dress.
The deep vibration of his groan echoes in his chest before reverberating throughout my body and settling in my clit. It’s almost a shock to realize that it wouldn’t take much to make me come.
Even in front of all these people.
