I Bet You (Page 37)
I take his hand in mine, and we walk inside. He shuts the door and turns back to face me.
My chest is heaving. His is too. My eyes flick down to the bulge in his gym shorts. God. He’s probably huge.
My eyes fly up to his face, and he’s wearing a smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His eyes go to my notebook on the desk. “You been writing in your notebook about me?” he asks, and it’s such a non sequitur that I shake my head.
Realization dawns and I gape. “You read the Holy Grail?”
He holds his hands out. “At Sugar’s, but before you freak out, I didn’t mean to.”
“What part did you see?”
“Where the Duke of Waylon ravishes the virgin with his big c**k.”
I blink, adjusting to the knowledge. “Well, you seem to have gotten the gist of it.”
He trails a finger down to my sweater and unbuttons the first button. His lips brush my collarbone. “I can make it come true.”
“Big appendage and all?”
He undoes another button, eyes like fire as they brush over me. “Oh, Red, you have no idea.”
I don’t. I really don’t. “I’m a virgin. I know I told you already, but I feel the need to point it out again.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” He undoes the next button and parts the sweater until the lace bodice of my camisole appears. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Well, don’t get your hopes up.” I wave my hands around my chest. “This is all smoke and mirrors. My bras are all padded.”
“Is that so?” He gives me a hot look as he unbuttons the last one and pushes the cardigan off my arms. It drops to the floor, forgotten. With a slight brush of his fingers, he cups my breast through the camisole, his fingers tweaking my nipple. “You couldn’t be any more perfect.”
His eyes hold mine and the air is electric.
I’m going to die if he doesn’t do something soon.
I must have spoken aloud because he chuckles and pushes the top of my camisole down, easing the delicate straps lower until the garment slides down and my breasts are free. My nipples rise to meet him as his head lowers and he kisses them. He cups me in his palms and massages, tugging until I clasp his head in my hands, gripping his scalp as his tongue toys with my peaks, taking them in his mouth and sucking. He’s gentle then rough and hard.
I can’t breathe. Delicious sensation wraps around me. “Ryker.”
“Hmmm,” he moans as he kisses up my neck to my ear. “Where’s your bed?” he whispers.
I point him in the right direction as he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to my room.
“S**t! Jock!” Vampire Bill squawks.
Ryker laughs and sets me down on my feet. I reach down to pull up my camisole, but he stops me. “No, don’t hide your body,” he murmurs as he trails a hand through my hair.
I reach for him, and we kiss, the intensity rising. I tear at his shirt, but the buttons are tiny, and I can’t get it open fast enough. He rips at it until they fly around the room, landing with little pings on the hardwood floor. He whips his arms out and tosses it away as if it offends him.
He stands there, his sculpted chest rippling with muscles, the deep V of his hips disappearing into his shorts. I touch the golden curls on his chest.
“You wore the white shirt…for me?”
He smirks. “I know you like it.”
A long sigh escapes my lips, and I curl my hand around his shoulder then tug him close until we’re pressed together. I lean down and tease his nipple with my mouth.
“Red,” he moans, tightening his arms around me.
I lean my head down to listen to his heartbeat. It’s as erratic as mine, and I know, I know…
“You’re perfect,” I say, my voice bemused. Happy.
“Don’t stop kissing me,” he groans before taking my mouth again. We kiss and kiss until I can’t think. His lips skate down my neck to my chest. He falls to his knees, his hands cupping my a*s. He moves slowly and deliberately as his tongue finds my navel and explores while I arch my back to get closer. I call out his name, my hands twining in his hair. His touch is masterful.
With a deft motion, he pushes my lace shorts down to my ankles and his mouth kisses my hipbone, sucking there.
“What are you doing to me?” I breathe.
“Whatever you want,” Ryker replies, looking at me with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.
I want it all, my heart thunders.
“We don’t have to take this all the way,” he says softly. “But I’m going to make you come. Hard. You’re going to be begging me to f**k you. You’re going to be begging me to f**k you every single day you’re alive…”
I nearly o****m right then. “You’re the cockiest sonofabitch I know,” I murmur.
“Is that a yes?” he growls, his hand sliding in between my legs and sawing back and forth over my c**t.
There’s a boldness in his gaze as he watches me. Rapt attention. He quivers, a full body tremor as I spread my legs apart, and he eases me down on the bed. I’m half on and half off as he kisses the top of my foot, the inside of my knee, the birthmark I have on my thigh, lavishing attention. His fingers pinch my nipples lightly, as if I’m a fine piece of porcelain and he’s exploring it. His mouth trails hot kisses over my stomach and he’s murmuring my name and saying how good I am, how beautiful—
He licks my center, and my back arches, writhing in sensation as he plays me. The pleasure is exquisite and excruciating at the same time. I want to bend space and time so that we never leave this bed, his mouth always torturing me.
I throw my hands behind my head and scoot to be closer to his hot mouth. He props my legs open wider and devours me, his fingers working my core, his mouth skyrocketing me straight to the heavens.
“Ryker,” I moan, my head thrashing. I feel disoriented, a taut string between him and my body and a fire that’s gathering at the base of my spine. I’m going to spin out of control.
“Come,” he says, his scruffy jaw brushing against my inner thigh. “Come, Red.” His finger slides inside me, catalyzing a storm. “You’re mine,” he says against my p***y with a hard suck of his lips, and the vibration combined with his tongue sends me over the edge. I detonate and shatter into a million pieces, falling and falling until I’m nothing but sensation and need and desire. Tears spring to my eyes.
The aftershocks vibrate my body, and he rides it out with me, taking me further with his mouth, pushing me until I scream out his name.
“Hell yes,” he says as he makes his way up to my face.
He kisses me hard, and he tastes sweet and hot. I’m spent, a limp puddle of nothing, but my hands eagerly curl around his shoulders.
In a smooth motion, he picks me up, slides underneath, and places me on top of him.
He holds me tight to his chest. As if he’ll never let me go. “That, babe, is third base first class.”
A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s two in the morning, but neither of us is asleep. We talk about everything. He tells me about always striving to be the best in football, hoping it’s enough for his dad, hoping his mom will hear about how talented he is. Emotion clogs my throat when he tells me he only talks to his dad once every few weeks. My mom is gone, but she always had time for me. I guess I was lucky that way, and not everyone is. He’s never seen a good relationship. I guess I haven’t either, but with him, I’m starting to think there’s hope.