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Ryan nods. “I’ll take those.” He squeezes my calf with a half-smirk on his face.
“Those hormones stimulate red cell precursors. Once the stem cells are created in the bone marrow, they are called erythroblasts. The ones that develop normally and don’t get screwed up are called normoblasts.”
Ryan nods, continuing to move his hand up my calf, making it impossible to concentrate.
“The normoblasts get rid of their nucleus.”
“And organelles,” he adds.
“Oh, right, get rid of their nucleus and organelles to become reticulocytes. They then leave the marrow and mature in the bloodstream, where they eventually become erythrocytes. The end.” I fly forward, pushing everything off his lap, letting the papers flutter to the floor.
He laughs, reaching his arms out to pull me onto his lap. “Right. And how long does the entire process take?”
I climb over him until I’m straddling his lap and slowly shift my weight back and forth to feel him harden beneath me. “Um, twenty-four hours? Five days?”
“Not quite.” He slides his hands up the tops of my thighs to my waist, lifting his hips to press against me. “More like two weeks.”
“Five days, two weeks. Close enough, right?”
I press my lips to him, sucking in a giant breath when he pulls my hips down onto him, rolling over so I can feel every glorious inch. It only takes a few seconds before our clothes come off,each piece strewn around my living room until we’re skin on skin, and I’m rising on my knees to sink onto him.
He hisses when I’m fully seated, the position making him feel a hell of a lot bigger than he felt last night.
I don’t waste any time teasing. Instead, I move my hips in a slow rhythm, letting my head fall back with how freaking good he feels. His lips find my neck and he licks along my pulse point, nipping and biting with each movement.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispers. There’s an innocence, an honesty to his voice that catches me off guard.
I pull back, watching the expression on his face, waiting for it to morph into something more readable. But it doesn’t.
Something changes between us in that moment. I don’t know if it’s the intimate position, the fact that it’s early afternoon and daylight is pouring through the windows, maybe it’s the eye contact. But we don’t need to speak a word to let the emotions show on our faces.
The man who knew exactly what to say last night, who had filthy words coming from his mouth without hesitation isn’t the man in front of me. This one looks timid, maybe a little unsure of himself.
I reach a hand up to cup the side of his face as I pull him to me. Our foreheads rest against one another, moving only to kiss each other. Something about this man brings me to life. With him I’m bold, a little daring. I’m getting further away from the person I was when I moved to the city, and closer to the person I want to be.
I lean back, letting instinct take over and I raise my arms to gather my messy hair off my neck, never stopping the smooth rhythm of my hips. I let my body take over, grinding and swirling over him, following my lead of whatever feels the best.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I open my eyes to see Ryan staring, a look of adoration covering his face. His hands wrap around my hips, the ghost of a touch, my body distracting him from moving.
“Ryan,” I whine, feeling myself weakening, ready to burst at the seams with his next touch.
He snaps out of his daydream, hands gripping my hips so hard they’ll bruise, and he pumps into me, pulling me down on him at the same time. Within seconds, I detonate.
My head falls to his shoulder and he wraps his arms around me, pumping furiously until he finds his own release. Our bodies relax, melt into one another as we settle our breathing. It’s only then that he speaks.
“Why are you so good to me?”
“You deserve good,” I tell him honestly, pulling back to look at him.
He wraps his arms further around me, tilting me, cradling me as he peers into my eyes. “You’re the first person to think that I think. To say it, anyways.”
The quietness of his voice is something I’ve never heard from him before, and it breaks my heart to think that someone so wonderful, so supportive of me, doubts himself to such an extent.
“You deserve good,” I say again as I lay a soft kiss on his lips. “Better than good. I wish you could see that.”
His eyes move to focus on the pillow behind me, his gaze distant.
