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"Are they sure he was in there?" I ask.
"They found a male body inside, Randy's identification, and the phone he's been using to make calls. They're pretty sure, Avery," Holly informs us, setting down her phone. "Tyra, Payton would like you to go to the station tomorrow morning to help identify the body."
I look around the room. Everyone is in shock. Randy was an asshole, but I don't think anyone really thought he would wind up dead. I expect to feel something. Remorse, grief, frustration, relief. Something. But I don't. I feel nothing. I'm numb.
"You're in shock," Colton says, and I realize I was speaking out loud.
"Do they know how the fire started?" Luke asks.
"No, not yet," Holly answers. "But Payton said it's not out of the realm of possibility that this was a hit. Once the coroner examines the body, we'll know if Randy was dead before or after the fire."
"I can't believe he's dead," Tyra states flatly. "Randy was a lot of things, but no one deserves to be burned alive."
I shiver at the thought. Was he burned alive? Could someone have restrained him and left him inside some grungy abandoned store to burn? Was he drugged? Or was he shot and killed before the fire? The merciful part of me hopes it's the latter. Despite all he's done, all the threats, and all the wrong he's done, I hope he didn't suffer.
"I'm tired," I announce, suddenly exhausted.
Everyone files out of the apartment to go home. Colton leaves but says there will still be a guard in the building until morning. I thank him for everything, giving him a big hug before he goes.
When I lay in bed, Ryan's arms pulling me close and the heat of his body making me feel protected and loved, I can't stop my thoughts from straying to Randy. After a time, I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, my alarm goes off, and light pours into my room. It's morning.
Ryan is already getting ready, starting his game day routine. I hear him in the shower, so I pad over to the bathroom, strip off all my clothes, and join him. He's blissfully silent as I let the water pour over me, wetting my body and hair. I try to wash away all the bad that's happened over the last few weeks.
Ryan gently strokes my back and arms with soapy water, cleaning me. His touch starts innocently enough, but the mood shifts when I turn to face him and his hands move to my breasts. I become eager and needy, pulling his head down for a kiss. My tongue wastes no time dipping into his mouth to taste him.
My hands begin to map his wet body, gliding over the planes of his chest. I run my fingers through his chest hair before dragging my nails down towards that delightful V leading to his most valuable player. I grip him firmly in my hand, stroking him, causing a shudder to run through his body.
"Make me forget," I plead into his mouth as Ryan's hands find my ass before hoisting me up against the shower wall. My legs instantly wrap around his waist, hooking at the ankles.
In one smooth thrust, he's inside me, his hips flush with mine. He begins a steady rhythm, sliding out and then back in. His lips find my breast, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth, grazing it lightly with his teeth. A loud moan escapes me as he finishes with one breast and moves his attention over to the other.
Tension starts to build in my abdomen, coiling tight. I claw my nails into Ryan's shoulder blades as his movements become more frantic. The cool shower tiles on my back are a balm to the heat Ryan and I are creating. Echoes of our skin slapping together fill the shower like an erotic soundtrack to our fucking. Without warning, he pulls out, coming onto my stomach in spurts quickly washed away by the water.
Ryan slides down my body, instructing me to place one leg over his shoulder. The warm running water and his tongue lapping over my clit makes my eyes roll to the back of my head. His tongue takes over where his cock left off, fucking me with his mouth. Bracing my hands on the walls, I come. My one standing leg going weak and buckling. Ryan catches me, slowly rising before shooting me a self-satisfied smirk.
"Careful," he grins. "I wouldn't want you to wipe out and take us both down in a heap. Holly might come home to an overflowing shower and two unconscious, concussed naked bodies."
I laugh at the mental image his suggestion creates.
We finish our shower, giggling and laughing like teenagers. I feel light and airy for the first time in forever.
Ryan and I dress before making our way into the kitchen. He has a very specific routine he follows before games. Hockey players are a suspicious lot. Most of them have some ritual they adhere to before every game, usually a variation of the food they eat, the clothing they wear, and a pre-game nap.
Some players refuse to have sex before games, thinking the build-up of sexual energy will fuel the intensity of their game. That's not an option for Ryan, and I don't think it was ever a part of Luke's routine. It's certainly not now. I know for a fact Holly and Luke have a pre-game "nap" together whenever possible. They're probably upstairs enjoying the same activities Ryan, and I just partook in.
Sitting at the kitchen table, I feel relaxed, limber, and completely at ease.
Ryan grabs a pan from the cabinet and then some eggs, cheese, mushrooms and onions from the fridge.
"Coffee?" he offers. He knows I don't drink coffee, but I'll have a sip or two once in a while.
"You know what? I feel extravagant today. How about a skinny vanilla latte and a pecan banana bread muffin? I'll start the omelettes if you run across the street to grab the goods."
"Sure," Ryan smiles, leaning over to give me a quick peck on the lips. He ducks out of the kitchen to grab his wallet as I start washing mushrooms and whisking eggs.
On his way out the door, Ryan gives my ass a smack, making me jump.
"Hey," I shout. "Unless you want part of my finger in your omelette, all spanking is on pause until we're in the bedroom."
