Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
I walked to my bathroom and washed off the make-up from my face. Tori urged me to wear it for tonight, and I knew she’d get ahold of me the night of the showing as well. She had a lot of plans for that night. I changed into my loose T-shirt to sleep in that I “borrowed” from Ryder’s place, sniffing it after I was under the covers. He smelled so damn good, and I missed him.
He would be gone for another three days. I sighed as I thought that over, quickly reminding myself that I had paintings to finish. There was a lot to do before the showing, and I’d need every second to get ready for the big night. Ryder being away was a blessing. I turned to my side and closed my eyes as the silence in the house settled around me. There were times that I had trouble with it to this day, expecting chaos to break at any given moment. Ryder soothed that when he was sleeping with me.
I hadn’t told Ryder about my past. There was no way that I could even consider opening up to anyone else. I groaned, knowing that there was nobody else. I wanted Ryder.
The next few days were a rush of painting and obsessing over small details on my work. I always loved art, but once I knew I was going to make something of it, the insecurity set in for me. Tori was always cheering me on every time we spoke, and I loved her for that. She told me a few times that Lucas even mentioned that I was incredibly talented and how successful my show was going to be.
The day Ryder returned home, he offered to come over with dinner to give me a break. I was neurotic by this point and opened the door to his gorgeous form and bags of Thai food.
I stepped aside as he strode past me to the kitchen. Ryder set the bags down and turned to scoop me up in his arms, fiercely kissing me as my arms slid around his neck.
“I missed this mouth,” Ryder growled before kissing me again. He didn’t only kiss me, he claimed me. My need for solid food dissipated as desire flooded me. My nipples ached and my thighs heated up as I gripped his hair in one fist. He placed me on the counter and slipped his hands under my shirt, sliding it up. I protested since I knew I was a mess, but his mouth moved over my neck and shoulder too fast to mention it.
We had sex on that counter within moments. It wasn’t the first time. I rocked into Ryder as he drove inside me, crying out his name. I needed this. Ryder seemed to feel the same way as he moved harder, deeper. We came together, and I memorized the sound of his voice calling my name as I gripped him, feeling myself flying into pleasure.
Ryder kissed my thighs when he finished, making me come back to the present. “That felt incredible.”
“It did. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.” I smiled at him, watching his muscles flex as he stood up. Ryder fetched us water and smiled as he grabbed plates for the food.
“I’m not finished with you. I need to eat, and based on your appearance, you need some real food. Have you been taking care of yourself?” Ryder asked as he pulled out containers, smiling as I inhaled the combined scent of the various foods.
“No. I’m living on coffee and naps. I feel like everything needs to be perfect for this weekend. How do you handle playing pro sports?”
“I get nervous like the next guy on the ice, but I think ahead to the game. I know I’m meant to be out there and how good I am with the puck.” He broadly smiled as I excused myself to change into something comfortable. I walked to my room and slipped on short shorts and another T-shirt. I pulled my messy hair into a top knot and glossed my lips quickly. I knew it would take a few minutes to jump back into manic artist mode, but I had a delicious dinner waiting for me in the kitchen. I also had a hot hockey player near-naked sitting at my counter.
We caught up over dinner. He told me about the week away and the crazy actions of the team along with the wins. They won every game. He asked me about every detail of the showing and looked at the work in my small studio with a wide smile. “This is beautiful. You’re going to be a star.”
“I don’t know about that. There are a lot of artists out there. It’s a broad talent,” I reminded him, knowing that he understood that. He lived in a similar world, and as I smiled at him, he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.