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“Talia?”
Ryan’s voice drew my attention to him. “I turned those pictures for a reason. Privacy, remember?” He tipped his head, bringing his other hand to my face. He had my cheeks gently trapped between his palms. I focused on his lips as he whispered, “There are some lines I’m not sure I’m prepared to cross yet, but only you telling me no will stop me from tasting your mouth right now.”
And was I trembling again? I worked my eyes to meet his.
This was going to kill me.
But . . .
I was determined.
“No.” At my response, he slowly released my cheeks and stepped back. “Come find me when you stop being so stubborn. Once you agree to let me help you by fake dating me, then you can have my mouth.” I worked my gaze lower to his crotch. “And anything else you may want from me.”
I found the courage to peer into his eyes as he bit out, “You’re playing dirty.” He smoothed a hand over his hard, bladed jawline.
“Dirty would’ve been coming over without a bra to negotiate.” I gulped as his eyes lowered to my breasts.
“You should go, darlin’.” A dark look crossed his face as he reached for his jeans and popped the button. “I’m planning to jerk off in my childhood bedroom for the first time in two decades. Because you make me . . .”
“Crazy?” I swallowed. “With everything going on, are we insane to be thinking about sex?” My eyes remained boldly fixed on his crotch, and I remembered his naked body from that night three years ago as if it were yesterday.
“Maybe.” He sighed. “Probably.”
He palmed his dick over his jeans, and I clamped my thighs together, my panties becoming wetter by the second.
“Well, I’ll just be next door.” I tipped my head toward the window. “Touching myself, too.” My nipples were hard, and my body was coiled tight from the pressure of a much-needed release. I just wished he’d be the one to deliver it. At this point, I didn’t even care if it happened in one of our childhood bedrooms. “I’m going.”
His eyes narrowed. “By the way”—he scowled, and I smiled at how obviously fake it was—“I changed my mind.” He lifted his chin. “I do hate you.”
“Mmhmm. Sure you do,” I said as he pierced me with his intense gaze. “About as much as I hate you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RYAN
Ryan: Is phone sex off-limits, too?
“Shit, damnit. Fuck.” I quickly deleted the message, realizing my nearly sent text would’ve gone to the group chat Natalia had created with Enzo. Yeah, that would’ve gone over real well with that man.
What in God’s name am I doing? Could I blame the whack to my head? At least the pain there had subsided and, hopefully, it wouldn’t come back.
But Natalia had been gone from my room for five minutes, and I already missed her.
My shoulders fell when I looked at the turned photos on my dresser. Would the guilt for wanting Natalia more than I wanted anything in my life—even being back on the Teams—ever go away?
My brother may have messed up with Natalia, but still, I knew she’d been the only woman he’d ever loved. And I’d never seen him so pissed at me when I demanded he tell her the truth about cheating or I would for him. He hadn’t spoken to me for six months after he’d taken the cowardly way out, lying to everyone for some payback.
It’d taken Mom bringing us back together to work things out. We’d put on a good front for her. All water under the bridge as far as she was concerned. In truth, things hadn’t been the same between us. I didn’t feel guilty for their breakup, but I did hate the strain it’d placed on our relationship.
And the fact of the matter was that I did feel guilty, but for an entirely different reason.
Because I’d been relieved he’d broken up with her. I knew I’d never be able to sit back and watch her marry Anthony and survive that. And that was selfish. Not the thing an older brother was supposed to do.
My brother and I had fallen for the same woman. Wasn’t that some shit luck? I’d never stood a chance with her, and how could I? I hadn’t tried. I’d barely been home while serving. Too busy dealing with war, violence, and dark shit. I wouldn’t have wanted to put her through all that. Yeah, keep using that excuse, dumbass.
I thought back to what Dad used to say to us as kids. We’re dealt the cards we’re dealt, and unless you’re a cheat, you play the hand you have. He’d been referring to both gambling and life. Sometimes, weren’t they one and the same?
But my brother, he was a cheat. He’d always played dirty. On and off the ice. He’d lost the best thing that ever happened to him because of it, and it took him getting his ass in trouble for me to finally tell Natalia the truth.
