Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I breathe in the scent of sex and hold him a little closer. “I have bad news for you,” I mutter.
“Mm?” he says, still half-asleep.
“I think you like cuddling.”
“Eww. I’m gross.”
I laugh. “When is Kaylee coming home?”
“We didn’t set a time.” Ryder disentangles himself from me and sits on the edge of the bed. “But I guess we’d better get washed up and clean before Maggie brings her home.”
“Shower?”
For a split second I’m worried he’s going to ask me to shower in the nanny’s quarters, but when he stands, he stares over his shoulder at me and smiles.
“Coming?”
I can’t get out of bed faster.
As much as I want to play in the shower, Ryder’s all business. Apparently, getting last night’s dried cum off us is more important.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks as he passes me the soap.
“Sore.”
He winces. “Me too, a little.”
“Sorry,” we say at the same time.
“Totally worth it, though,” I point out.
“Definitely. My muscles are all achy.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“Not when every time I feel a twinge, I think of how I got it.” Ryder wraps his arm around me and pulls me against him.
The water beats down on us, and when he leans in to kiss me, his lips are soft, warm, and wet.
He backs us up so I’m against the cool tiles, but he doesn’t box me in. We’re both hard, but this isn’t about sex.
I break away and run my hands down his back to keep him close. “You know, I thought maybe you’d have second thoughts today.”
“Oh, I’m having second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts, but I know I want to keep doing this.”
He kisses me again, and as much as I’d love to stay here doing this until the water runs cold, we have to be careful.
Kaylee and Maggie could come home at any minute, and I want to respect Ryder’s wishes to keep this from his daughter.
It makes sense to keep it between us for now because, if I’m being honest, I’m preparing myself for Ryder to freak out or walk away at any moment.
I can’t let myself get in over my head unless I want major heartache, and who the fuck wants that?
“We should get out,” he says.
“Can I borrow some clothes again? Best thing about dating someone the same size …” Shit. “I mean, not dating.” That’s probably too much of a label for Ryder.
“It’s okay. It’s what we’re doing, I guess.” He turns the water off, conveniently needing to move away from me to do it.
“It was a slip of the tongue,” I say.
He turns back to me. “I decided to come see you play, to sleep with you, to do everything we did last night, the least I can do is give you a label to define it. You told me what you want, and I don’t want to fuck with that, okay? I’m sorry if I suck at all this. I’m not good at …” He struggles to label it again.
“You’re not good at taking something for yourself every now and again?”
His bright blue eyes fill with guilt. “I don’t want you to think that’s all you are to me.”
“I don’t,” I reassure him. “I know this is hard for you.”
“Mm, that’s not all that’s hard.” Ryder smirks.
“Still haven’t had enough?”
“Nope.”
“Too bad we need to get out of the shower, then.” I leave him standing there wanting more. Isn’t that the advice they give single people? Leave them wanting more. Or something? I don’t know. Just like Ryder sucks at having something more, I suck at playing it cool.
We dry off and go back into his bedroom. I can still smell sex, though I don’t know if it’s the sheets or my memory recalling the smell.
I don’t miss the way Ryder looks disappointed when I put my hair up into its usual messy bun, and I put that detail in my back pocket for later.
I have a list of things Ryder likes. So far it’s being treated as a person and not a celebrity. And my long hair. I wish I could put my stunning personality on there too, but I’m not entirely sure how much he likes my smart-assery and how much he’s humoring me.
Ryder throws me a pair of jeans and a plain Henley.
“What, no shirt with your face this time?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I’m so, so disappointed,” I say dryly.
“You will have to return that shirt one day. I know you love it, but it’s the only one I have.”
“Love, love, love it. I think it got mixed up in the wash at home. I’ll find it. Chase probably stole it seeing as he’s such a big fan of yours.”
“At least someone in your family has taste.”
Just as we reach downstairs and start picking up all the clothes we threw around the place in our rush last night, the front door opens, and Ryder and I pause in our steps.