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26
After I finishedmy phone call with Logan, I sauntered downstairs, only to find Ryan asleep on the couch while the kids watched their movie on the opposite sofa.
I pulled together a quick dinner from the ingredients we’d purchased earlier and let him sleep. After he woke up, the tension settled in the air between us. He was kind to the kids, smiling, laughing…but with me he was withdrawn.
Once the kids were in bed, I wandered upstairs, locking his bedroom door and seeking him out. He was on the bed, his laptop open, typing away. When he worked, he wore these cute-as-hell thick-rimmed blue light glasses, making him look like a sexy nerd. It was irresistible to say the least.
“What’s going on with you?” I asked hesitantly, more softly than I intended.
He glanced at me over his screen and gave me a fake smile. “Nothing, all good.”
Liar.
“You’re acting strange,” I added, unwilling to let it drop. I had done that a million times with Logan, always walking on eggshells, sleeping back to back, unwilling to talk about the lingering tension. I didn’t want that with Ryan.
“No, I’m not.” He continued to type away, even as his terse tone rattled between us.
“Ryan.” I hoped he heard the warning in my tone. I gingerly sat on the end of the bed and waited for him to open up. I needed this with him; without his transparency, it made me feel like he’d just toss me out of his life again.
Setting his laptop aside with a heavy sigh, Ryan stood from the bed. Casually, he walked until he hovered in front of me. In low-hanging sweats and with a naked chest, he was striking, especially in the low lighting in the room.
His hand came out, gripping my chin, tilting my head back until I was staring up at him. I was in a thin tank top and flimsy shorts.
Slowly dragging his finger across my shoulder, he tugged the strap of my tank down. Once it was off, it left little support for my breast. Pulling it free, Ryan held the fullness of me in his palm, pinching the nipple until I bit my lip.
“You’re so much fuller now…” he muttered, almost like he was only talking to himself. His eyes were void of anything other than lust as they stared down at my half-naked form. “There is something bothering me,” Ryan explained dryly, like he was bored.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
The deadness in his eyes made me feel like I wasn’t going to like the answer, but I still needed to know.
“I need to fuck you.”
I bristled at the lack of love or familiarity in his tone, and part of me wondered ifmyRyan had left and this was the man who had meaningless flings and girls for every season in his phone. I would have been lying if I didn’t admit that I wondered if he was different in bed when he was emotionally detached from the body he was pummeling.
Of course, my heart lurched, and my stomach tilted at his lifeless stare and lack of concern for me as he lowered the other strap of my tank.
Deciding I would let his demons play, I pulled my other breast free, pinching the hard bud like he’d done.
A shadow passed over his face as he watched.
“Yeah, just like that. It’s easy for you, isn’t it?” he asked, dark and accusing.
What the hell does that mean?
He lifted my jaw and gripped my chin forcefully as he said, “Show me.”
Understanding dawned as I saw the thick outline of his erection through his sweats. Slowly, I slid down the bed and got to my knees. The plush carpet pressed into my skin as I tugged the band of his joggers down, freeing him. I gripped his length in my hand, and with my eyes trained on his face, I licked from the base of his cock up to the tip.
No emotion flickered in his eyes as I leaned forward and took him fully in my mouth. My head bobbed up and down as I made room for his length, moaning at the sensation of having him like this again.
Ryan gently rocked his hips forward to seal my mouth around him, then he gripped the back of my head with both hands to keep me in place. I sucked, gripping his hips to get closer; my breasts hung free, my nipples pebbled to a painful degree. Ryan’s gaze lowered to them for a brief moment, lust like a stamp on his face as he watched them bounce with each bob of my head.
He pulled me closer as I almost choked on his length, and then he eased back, letting me adjust. He groaned and grunted as he repeated this process over and over. Right when I expected him to push himself deeper into my mouth or to come down my throat, he slowed his pace, removing one hand from gripping my head. Instead he began running his fingers through my hair. A strange look clouded his features as the silky strands cascaded like water.
Before I knew what was happening, he pulled out. I slowly stood, not sure what had just happened or why.
“Are you—?” I started but was cut off.
