Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
I smile up at him. “Is that a threat?”
At that, he coils forward, his body fully covering mine again as his hips move faster. The change of angle is exactly what I need to find my bliss. With his pelvis deliciously scraping my clit and his cock plunging deep, the orgasm starts in my core and ignites my entire body.
“Oh my God, Ryder, don’t stop,” I beg, digging my fingernails into his back as I shudder from release.
He’s not far behind, groaning hoarsely into my neck. His thrusts become more and more erratic until he finally presses himself in deep and trembles as he comes.
I’m pretty sure I just had the best sex of my entire life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RYDER
Dirty little secret
I’M PRETTY SURE I JUST HAD THE BEST SEX OF MY ENTIRE LIFE.
It takes a while for my heartbeat to regulate. Gigi is curled up beside me. Her fingers dance over my chest, stroking carelessly. Sucking in a breath, I cover her hand with mine, lacing our fingers together. It’s not a standard move in my arsenal. In fact, it’s one I would normally avoid at all costs. But it feels nice, so I don’t question why I did it.
I wait for her to start talking. To start asking questions. In my experience, this is when women want to talk. When the dopamine is still surging through their bloodstream, all those feel-good emotions flooding their system.
But Gigi doesn’t say anything.
“Something on your mind?” I say gruffly.
Fucking hell.
I initiated a conversation.
Willingly.
What is happening and how do I stop this? Why can’t I stop this? I’ve never been interested in digging deeper with the women in my bed, but I’m a bit eager for a glimpse into Gigi’s head.
“Just thinking about this Team USA thing,” she admits. Her fingertips play with my knuckles. “My dad offered to speak to the head coach on my behalf.”
“I assume you said no.”
I feel her body tense. “Obviously.”
The more I get to know her, the more apparent it is that she’s desperate to separate herself from her father. To stand on her own merit.
She relaxes a moment later. “Sorry. That sounded harsh. It’s just…” Her sigh warms my chest. “That nepotism comment you made a while ago is constantly in the back of my mind now. It eats at me.”
A pang of guilt tugs at me. “I’m sorry. I should never have said that.”
“It’s always been a fear of mine. I think you just made me face it. And I hate facing it.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Facing things sucks.”
She lifts her head to grin at me. But the humor doesn’t last. She settles back, her soft hair brushing my chin.
“I also hate that I’m in this position in the first place. I hate wondering whether Brad Fairlee is purposely denying me the opportunity. People keep telling me what a good coach he is. Impartial. I want to believe he gave me that criticism because he genuinely wants me to improve my game and not because he’s trying to keep me off the team.”
My forehead creases. “Why would he do that?”
“I have history with his daughter. We were best friends growing up.”
When Gigi’s fingers stiffen, I slowly loosen each one, pressing her palm flat my chest.
“Did you get in a fight or something?” I ask.
“You could say that. She got involved with my brother senior year, even after I warned her that Wyatt was never going to commit. He didn’t want a girlfriend. Still doesn’t, three years later. But Emma did that delusional girl thing where they pretend they’re okay with no strings. Or maybe it’s not delusional—maybe they actually convince themselves of it, but then they have sex a couple times and start planning the wedding. Either way, Wyatt bailed the second she tried to wrangle a commitment out of him, and she went scorched earth on his ass. Spreading rumors about him at school. Telling people how awful he was.”
Sorrow and contempt mingle in her voice. “Emma and I were inseparable since the second grade, and she took a match to our friendship and lit it on fire. Spread rumors about me too. Posted really embarrassing stuff online, things I’d told her in confidence, screenshots of old chats where I admitted my boyfriend Adam wasn’t that great in bed.”
“Damn,” I marvel. Women have truly mastered the art of social media warfare.
“So then Adam broke up with me. And started dating Emma, of course. Our mutual friends all pulled away from her because they’d seen her nasty side. She started commenting on other people’s posts with snarky comments about me and Wyatt and everyone who bailed on her. Or posting her own passive-aggressive bullshit.” Her voice becomes harder now. Angry. “Honestly, all that shit was minor. Juvenile. I don’t care that she tried to make me choose between her and Wyatt. Or that she slandered me afterward. Stole my boyfriend. It’s that she had the audacity to try to hurt my mom.”