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Seventeen
Ryder
I
watched the flex in his arse as the professor stepped off the yacht onto the dock. He had a nice one.
What fucking rabbit hole had I fallen into? It really was someAlice in Wonderlandshit. Since when did I check out another bloke’s arse? Seriously, though, when? Because it had been happening far too often. First him, then Flynn—although in fairness, it wasn’t Flynn’s tight little arse I’d been checking out, it had been his cock—and then Detective Fraser’s.
Focus, Ry. Focus.
It didn’t matter what kind of butt the professor had. It didn’t matter that I’d seen it flex as he’d wandered naked down the hallway. It didn’t matter that I knew it was smooth and plump with no tan lines. It was the perfect handful for someone to latch onto when he was pumping inside of them. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d looked like fucking Zali and Flynn.
The cum gutters also didn’t matter, despite how they made a perfect V lighting the way to his cock. They were like a strip of lights framing a runway, guiding a lover to their destination.
What did matter was that I needed to get rid of him. Security would escort him off the marina if he was caught skulking around, looking any kind of suspicious. But it was my job to keep Zali safe.
And I took that job seriously.
Good riddance to him anyway. I didn’t need him breaking Zali’s heart, never mind messing up my nights. Flynn was the one interested in getting railed by the bloke, not me.
Despite what my recurring dreams said.
If I told myself enough times that he was a bloke and I should be repulsed by him, maybe I’d forget waking up with a raging boner and coming as soon as I wrapped my hand around my dick. Maybe I’d forget the way he wrestled control away from me, binding my hands and kicking open my legs before sinking into me. Maybe I’d forget the way he wrapped his hands around my throat and pinned me down, taking what he wanted.
Maybe they were things I’d remember I wanted to do to Zali. Not that I’d ever forgotten. I fantasized about that woman every damn day. I wasn’t the one who got to sink inside her tight little pussy, but she needed me in other ways. She was mine to take care of. Mine to protect and look after.
Nothing would ever happen with another man, never mind two. I wasn’t bi or pan. I didn’t want any guys. Good old straight for me, thanks very much. Traditional sausage in bread. I loved women, loved being with them. Loved everything about them.
So why couldn’t I get Tristan and Flynn out of my head?
Ezra either?
I growled at my stupidity. Ezra was a whole other story. I’d admired him for years. But it was completely innocent. It was the way that every other man checks out another bloke’s progress. He managed to keep his muscles perfectly sculpted. It took mad dedication to his craft to look that good all the time. The man was objectively gorgeous too. His hair was that silky-smooth caramel colour that you had to remind yourself not to touch. There was never a strand out of place, but it wasn’t because of a ton of product in it. He had this effortless style too—businessman but not stuffy. His navy-blue suits and crisp white button-downs always looked fresh even when he was finishing up his day. I’d seen him in casual clothes too. Ripped jeans as soft as butter that moulded over his thick thighs and a fitted black Henley.
He was the go-to man women drooled over, like a standard us mere mortals could only hope to one day achieve. He was the man I’d wanted to be.
Except now I was wondering whether I needed to add a “with” to the end of that sentence.
I shook out of the rabbit hole of mindfucks I’d fallen into and watched as the Professor paused at the top of the stairs, turning back to gaze at our group. His shoulders dropped, and his lips turned down sullenly. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark sunnies he wore, but I could imagine that the playful spark those pale greens had glittered with when I’d met him in the corridor would now be missing.
He exited the security gate, and as it banged closed, the lock clicking into place, a weight lifted off my shoulders. He was gone. Out of Zali’s life and out of mine.
I jogged ahead, going for the Range Rover parked in the space we had reserved.
I pulled up to the curb, Zali and Flynn hopped in, and I did another double-take. My lady looked like a fucking boss. Hot as hell in skin-tight black leather and a white shirt that was somehow tailor-made to show off every curve and be professional at the same time. Even Flynn, who was always suave in his linen pants and button-down shirts, paled beside her. In that getup, she looked badarse, and he looked like a work-experience kid following her around like a puppy.
“You didn’t tell me what you’d need when we got to Sydney. I’ve organized a car, but that’s it. Did you want to stay overnight?”
“No, I only need to be there for a few hours.”
“Where are we going?” Flynn asked.
“You’re not coming,” she responded, her tone leaving no room for discussion. “We’re dropping you off before we leave.”
Flynn laughed, but it held no humour. It was the first time I’d seen him stand up to Zali like that. Usually he was like a Labrador puppy, always smiling and always trying to please. “You aren’t in any kind of mindset to be there by yourself—”
“I’ll be there,” I supplied helpfully, a little pissed at Flynn’s complete disregard of me. I’d half joked with the professor, saying that I was the staff and it was my job to blend into the walls, but that wasn’t the relationship I had with Zali. I was as much her protector as her cook.
