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And honestly, I’d been the same way since leaving the dressing room.
That excited me, because I knew why he was like that, knew he’d been thinking about it as much as I had.
But we finished out the day normally, no excessive PDA, no more almost fucking in a dressing room. We’d been good, behaved.
And damn had it been hard.
But toward the end of the day, I felt that control slipping, especially from Ryker. I pictured how he looked as he sat across from me at the table when we’d eaten dinner. He’d watched me like a starving predator. He’d watched me like I was the only thing he wanted to sate that hunger.
His possessiveness had been tangible. Hell, he’d even snapped and glowered at the waiter when he smiled at me.
“Ryker?” I reached out to place my hand on his denim-clad thigh. He looked over at me, shifting on the seat so he was facing me now. “Thank you for today. It was wonderful spending time with you.” I moved my hand up and down his thigh, not to be sexual, but that’s exactly where my thoughts led.
The way he watched me said his mind was right there with mine.
“You enjoyed yourself?” His voice was so husky, so deep, like he had to force it to work.
I nodded. “So much, and it was made even better because you were there.” The pitch of my voice became more sultry, needy.
He stayed silent for several moments, and then he cupped my cheek, smoothing his finger along my skin.
Ryker was so gentle with me, but I knew him well enough to know he was only like this with me. Over the years of all but growing up with him, I remembered plenty of fights he’d gotten into. And they’d all been because he felt a guy was disrespecting me, sexualizing me.
Blood had been shed, bruises formed, bones broken. He was unapologetic about it too. He was protecting me, my honor, and how could a girl be mad at that?
I looked back at his house, thinking about his bedroom, the couch, even the kitchen table. We’d done it on just about every surface imaginable, and every time, it was like the first. Every time, it was exciting and new and had me anxious for more.
When I turned and looked at him, my mouth parted, but before I could tell him that we should head inside, his expression had any words stilling on the tip of my tongue. He slipped his hand around my nape, pulled me forward, and slammed his lips down on mine.
I instantly melted against him, opening my mouth wider and slipping my tongue against his, moaning at the flavor and feel of him. He had his other hand on my hip, intermittently squeezing me as if he were trying to calm himself, trying to ground himself.
And before I knew what was happening, I was pulled on top of him, the steering wheel pressed into my back, and Ryker’s hard, muscular chest pressed against mine.
“I’ve been wanting this all day,” I said after we broke the kiss, both of us panting, Ryker’s hands on my hips as he squeezed me, pulling me closer. I could feel how hard he was between my thighs, that thick length begging to be released.
He didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t have to. I could see in the way he was looking at me and how hard his body was that I was affecting him, that he was right here with me.
I pressed my lower half down against him, grinding myself on his erection, loving that my big, strong biker was trying in vain to act like he had any kind of control.
Because we both knew that once he let go, all bets were off. Once he said fuck trying to go slow, the real Ryker would come out to play.
Chapter Seven
Ryker
Iwanted to make this good for her, to have her spread out on my bed, her hair a dark mass atop my white pillowcases. I wanted her naked and ready for me, her legs spread, her knees bent.
I wanted to fuck her all night.
I was so far gone in this moment. Ever since the dressing room incident earlier today, it was all I’d been thinking about. This moment. When I’d have her all alone, all to myself.
I craved Sofie like no other, needed her like I needed oxygen. She was mine, and I was hers. And that’s how it would always be. In the back of my mind, I knew she had Jareth, but none of that mattered. Because when she was with me, when it was just us… she was mine.
If being with Sofie meant I had to share her with another, I was more than okay with that. I was more than willing, because I wanted her happy. Above all else, that’s what mattered.
I slipped my hands up her arms, over her shoulders, and cupped both sides of her neck, tilting her head back slightly, watching as her lips parted. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes half-closed as desire moved across her face, a visual showcase of how far gone she really was.
She was primed for me; I had no doubt about that. Hell, I could practically feel how wet she was through our jeans. I wanted her soaking, wanted her drenched on top of me, her arousal slipping down my cock, the wet sounds of us fucking filling the interior of the Tahoe.
