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Ryder, though… she couldn’t explain the look on his face, other than that she knew she didn’t need to fear him.
“Not so fast,” he whispered.
“Why not?” she whispered back. “I like it fast.”
“That’s only because you’ve never really, truly had it slow,” he husked.
Ho. Lee. Fuck. Really and truly slow? She’d never had it for over five minutes in her life. That was how guys wanted it, in her experience.
“Oh, right. Edging,” she replied. “How long does that take?”
“As long as you can last without going insane,” he said, and moved so close that the word “insane” made his lips brush against hers.
“How long canyoulast?” she asked.
“If I told you, it would scare you,” he replied, and she felt his lips smile against hers.
She wanted to joke about that being fifteen or twenty minutes, but the look in his eyes said it wasn’t a bullshit line.
Nothing about Ryder was bullshit, and it gave her a sense of safety and comfort that she never knew she wanted. But another thing was that she genuinely liked him. There were only a handful of people she actually liked, and they usually had to prove themselves worth her respect first.
The thought that she liked a man,thisman, someone who satisfied a fantasy she didn’t know she held, both excited and terrified her.
“I can stop any time you want me to,” he told her, his eyes filled with a tenderness she hadn’t expected. “Even right now. We can just work together, if that’s what you want.”
She felt the tension in his hands, knowing he would set her back against the couch and be true to his word.
It would be the smart thing to do, and she was a smart woman.
“It’s only a week,” she said out loud. She wasn’t sure what she meant, but when he pulled her against him and his body heat moved through the thin satin of her outfit, she knew exactly what she meant.
Which was yes, yes, hell, yes. To everything he implied.
She let out a slow breath and rested a hand on his thick biceps. Whatever he was about to show her or teach her was worth the risk. And in a short while he would be gone, on the other side of the country, and she would be stronger for having had the experience. She would finally write him up in her Fuck Book and put him to rest, just like any other hook-up.
“Maybe less than a week. Who knows,” he murmured in assurance. Maybe he had the same misgivings she did about what she was feeling. That was a good thing. That way, there was no danger of this becoming anything more than sex.
In a dizzy movement, she was high in his arms and he was striding to the bedroom.
She braced herself to be laid on the bed, but he stepped up on it and lowered her so that every inch of her body slid against his. Then he stood back and peeled his t-shirt off, showing her the tatted, muscled body of every fantasy she’d ever masturbated to.
“Fuck, are those real?” she murmured inanely, unable not to touch the ridges of his ab muscles.
“As real as these seem to be,” he replied, peeling open her top until her breasts and lacy bra were exposed.
“One hundred percent real, but enhanced by a very expensive bra,” she confirmed, and when she moved to unhook it, he stopped her.
“No. This is my show. But if things get too intense for you, let’s pick a safe word. I would say Bombshell, but maybe you should pick the word.”
“Phfft,” she scoffed, but saw he was serious. “How about Mitchell?” she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.
He chuckled, then gripped her upper arms and pulled her chest against his bare skin. Jesus, that felt luscious.
“That might work,” he grunted.
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Ryder could tell by her expression that she had some smart ass comment ready, so he slammed his mouth on hers and cut them off. Then got lost in how her lips clung to his.
