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Pucking Wild: Chapter 44

Tess

“Ryan, please,” I murmur, my hands going up to his nape, fingers brushing his hair, as I step in closer. “I need you.”

“What do you need?” he says again. His hands are at my waist, smoothing over the leather of my skirt. “Tell me what you need.”

I’m not good at being vulnerable. I’m not good at letting people in. I’d rather walk around the world stark naked than walk around admitting to having faults and feelings and insecurities.

And boy, has this man seen me naked. Maybe that’s why everything has been so topsy-turvy with us. We started with me naked. No walls, no hiding. Just me, exactly as I am, with curves and freckles and sunburned shoulders.

He’s known what I am, all that I am, from day freaking one. Now the question becomes: Will I let him know who I am? Will I let him in?

Taking a deep breath, I look in his eyes. For him, I’m willing to try. “I want this, Ryan,” I say. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me. Here. Now.”

His energy darkens as he smooths a thumb over my cheek. “Tess—”

“Wait.” I lift my hand to cover his on my cheek. “I want to let you in—I—god, I’m gonna try to let you in, okay? But my head can be a crazy place sometimes,” I warn, dropping my hand away.

“I’ve noticed,” he says with a smirk. His hand lowers, too, his thumb brushing along the curve of my shoulder.

I shiver, loving the feel of his gentle touch. Centering myself in that feeling, I give him my vulnerability. “Ryan, the last man who touched me did so in anger. I think it’s making me afraid to take this step with you. I’m afraid of the surrender, of the loss of control.”

He goes still, holding his breath as his eyes flash.

“I want you to help me reclaim it.”

He raises a brow. “Your control?”

“And my consent,” I say with a nod. “Both.”

“How do we do that?” he asks, searching my eyes.

“We fuck,” I reply. “And we hold nothing back. I want to give myself to you, Ryan. I want to trust that you won’t hurt me, that you’ll only bring me pleasure.”

“Jesus, Tess.” He drops his hands away.

My heart flutters in nervous anticipation. “You don’t want that?”

He groans. “Well—fuck, I can’t have this conversation in front of Drunk Cleopatra,” he says, waving his hand over at the bed where poor Tegan is softly snoring.

I stifle a laugh, taking his hand. “Come on.”

“Wait—”

I pull him from the room, glancing right towards the crowded game area before moving left.

“Tess, what are you doing?”

My heart races as I open the next door, peeking in to see a bathroom. No way. I am not fucking this man next to a toilet. Shutting the door, I move down and open the next.

“Tess—”

“In here,” I say, pulling him into the dark, empty nursery. It’s cute, decorated in soft blues and greys. There’s a crib along the far wall, framed in by book and toy shelves. A loveseat is situated under a big window, gauzy curtains drawn to only let in the light from an outside streetlamp.

Ryan steps into the middle of the room and slowly turns to face me. “Seriously? Baby Josh’s room?”

I shut the door and lock it, leaning against it. “I don’t think he’ll mind. And unless you wanted to stay in there with Drunk Cleopatra…or join the Eiffel Tower crew—”

“No,” he says, eyes narrowed.

“You make me feel good, Ryan,” I say, cutting to the chase. “You make me feel safe. And our chemistry is off the freaking charts. I know you feel it too. I think you’ll make me a fantastic lover, and if you want it, I’m saying yes.”

“Tess…” His heated gaze is locked on me.

I push off the locked door, walking towards him. “You can have all of me…any way you want me. You can be gentle…or you can be rough.” I pause, just within arm’s reach of him. “I consent—”

And then I’m in his arms. He pulls me to him, kissing me with all the passion I know he feels for me. We melt into each other, our hands clinging as we sigh our relief into each other’s mouths that we’re finally kissing, touching, sharing air. Why do we ever stop kissing when it feels this good?

His lips are soft, even as his kisses are urgent. He opens me up with his teasing tongue and I let him in, loving the feel of him against my lips. Our hands work feverishly, desperate for this moment of reconnection. I’m slowly learning his body, memorizing the planes of his chest, the muscled cording of his arms. I slip my hands inside his leather cut, smoothing my hands down over his ribs.

“You think you’re so cute wearing this, don’t you,” I tease, nipping his bottom lip. “Trying to drive me crazy?”

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use,” he replies, his hands flipping up my leather skirt until he’s palming my ass, pulling me against his erection. “But it’s just a costume. If that’s the reason we’re about to fuck—”

Silencing him with my tongue in his mouth, I jerk the cut off his shoulders, dragging it down his arms, and drop it to the floor. “I want you,” I pant against his lips. “There is only you. Fuck me, Ryan. Take control—”

He silences me with another kiss, his hands dropping to his shirt. He jerks it off, only breaking our kiss for a moment before he’s opening his pants. “Touch me,” he orders, grabbing my hand and slipping it inside his boxers, holding tight to my wrist as I palm his hard dick. His hold softens, sliding down until his hand is wrapped around mine.

I gasp, breaking our kiss as I look down, watching as our hands stroke him together. Precum leaks from his tip. I brush my thumb over it, desperate for a taste. He groans, his free hand going to my shoulder. Then he’s cupping my cheek, tipping my face up.

“Oh—” I say on a laugh, taking in the bright smear of red across his lips. “I made a mess of you.” I lift my free hand, ready to rub the color off his bottom lip. “Here—”

“Leave it,” he says, jerking his head away. “I want it there. I want that devil red lipstick painted all over my dick too. Get on your knees and suck it.” He grabs my jaw, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. “Then I’ll fuck you ‘til your legs give out. Before I’m done, the only word spoken from these lips will be my name.”

“Oh, thank God,” I whimper, my body turning to jelly as I drop eagerly to my knees. I grab him by the hips and pull him closer, working him out of his boxers. I’m about to put him in my mouth when he suddenly pulls away from me. “Ryan, what—”

He steps back several feet until his hip hits the dresser. Then he braces his hands to either side, gripping the dark wood, and glares down at me, his gaze molten.

I don’t let myself shrink under his stare. I want him looking at me. I’m on my knees in this sexy devil costume, red-painted lips smeared by his kisses. Feeling empowered by the hunger in his eyes, I lift my hands to the top of my red lace bustier. Fingers gripping the cups, I pull them down, letting my breast fall loose over the corset.

A muscle in his jaw twitches, and his hands grip tighter to the dresser. “Crawl.”

My pussy clenches. “What?”

“Crawl to me,” he repeats. “You want this dick? You want me to make you come? Make you scream? Take control?”

“Yes,” I beg, swallowing my nerves.

“Yes, what?” he says with a raised brow.

Oh, my sweet puppy did not come to play. I knew I sensed a hunger for domination in him. I don’t think Ryan has ever let himself explore his sexuality. He’s unsure of his likes, his cravings. Each time I’ve said or done something he reacts to, I’ve taken note. In this moment, I know exactly what he wants.

Holding his gaze, I lift my hands to my breasts, pinching my nipples until I gasp, the rush of pleasure echoing in my aching clit. “Yes, sir.” I watch him shiver with need at my words and it makes me tremble too. I love this side of him. I want to draw it out.

Play with me, baby.

“Then work for it,” he growls, those pretty green eyes blown black with desire. “Crawl to me, Tess.”

Yes, sir.

He looks like pure sin in this light, the shadows playing off the cut of his muscles. His arms flex as he grips the wood of the dresser, his pants open and sitting low on his hips. I can’t stand this distance between us for another second. Dropping down to my hands, my breasts spilling out over the top of my bustier, I crawl to him. I hold his gaze, heart hammering in my chest. I’m so turned on, I could scream. I may be the one on my knees, but he’s looking at me like I’m a goddess.

He watches me every second, not daring to look away. When he reaches out a hand, I take it. Holding tight to me, he reels me in. “Such a good fucking girl,” he says, his other hand brushing over my hair. “So beautiful on your knees for me.”

I hold in a whimper, biting my bottom lip.

“Look at me, Tess.”

I glance up, my gaze sweeping over his bare chest to hold his gaze.

“Do you like when I call you a good girl?” He’s genuinely curious. He wants to know. He wants this to be good for me too. God, he’s getting me so hot. My sweet consent king with a sneaky dom side. I’m dead.

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“But you’re not a good girl, are you?” he teases, his thumb tracing down my jaw.

“I try,” I admit, leaning into his touch.

“Bullshit,” he says with a smirk. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Not when it comes to sex. You’re pure devil. Look at you,” he adds, raising his hand to give my little devil horns a tug. “At least mine was a costume.”

I smile up at him, batting my lashes. “Even devils can be good sometimes.”

“Yeah, when they want something,” he replies. “Tell me what you want.”

I reach out with both hands, brushing them over his jeans, up his thighs. Slowly, I tug at his jeans and briefs, pulling them down his hips. “I want my mark on you,” I admit, gazing up at him. “I want you claimed, Ryan. I saw you with your hands on that sexy Cleopatra, and I wanted to rip her fucking wig off.”

His smile falls as he gazes down at me, a curl of his blond hair sweeping across his brow. He cups my jaw, demanding my attention, his pretty green eyes dark and needy. “Do you really think I would ever look sideways at another woman when I have this goddess at my feet?”

His words strike a cord deep in my trauma-addled soul.

Pretty words. It’s just something men say, but never mean. He won’t be faithful. They never are

“Tess,” he soothes, both hands cupping my cheeks. It’s like he knows what I’m thinking. A shiver goes through me as he brushes those gentle thumbs over my freckles. “Look at me, beautiful.”

I peer up at him through my lashes.

“There is no one else,” he says, his gaze open and honest. “So long as you give me the time of fucking day, there won’t be. I am so hung up on you, it’s not even funny. When that drunk girl grabbed my hand, I turned around, desperate to see that it was you. I wanted it to be you who came to me—”

“I was coming for you,” I admit, my hands smoothing over his bare hips. “Ryan, I followed you inside. I wanted to find you, be near you. I just want to be where you are.” My gaze darkens as I glare up at him, letting my jealousy loose. “And then I saw her in your arms, and I wanted to fuck you right there in the hallway. I didn’t care who watched.”

His gaze is triumphant. “And what do you want now, pretty devil? Say it out loud.”

I jerk his pants down to his knees, freeing his cock. It bobs in my face, hard and ready for me. I wrap my hand around it, loving the way he tenses, one hand going to my hair. I gaze up at him. “I’m putting my mark on you tonight. You are not a free dick anymore, Ryan. This is mine ‘til I say otherwise.”

His hand tightens in my hair. “Do it. Claim me.”

I lean in, lips parting to taste him, when he pulls on my hair tipping my head back.

“But just know this goes both ways,” he warns. “Unlike the idiot twins down the hall, I don’t fucking share. It’s not in my nature. If my dick is yours, that pussy is mine. We can still be friends who fuck, but I’ll be the only one you’re fucking. Understood?”

I nod, heart racing.

“Speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He lets go of my hair, dropping his hand back to grip the dresser. “Now get on my dick.”

Okay, my pussy is officially fanning herself with anticipation. Dom Ryan might be my new favorite. Wasting no more time, my mouth closes around his tip and I suck, wanting my saliva to make it messy. He groans again, his hands going to my shoulders as I slide my painted lips up and down his shaft, stroking him with my tongue.

“So fucking good,” he says, hand tightening in my hair.

I pop off and glance up at him through my dramatic fake lashes. “Like what you see?”

He looks down at me again, his gaze molten as he takes in my devil costume and his dick in my hand, painted red by my lipstick. “Perfect,” he says, grabbing for my shoulders. “Up. Get up.”

I let him pull me to my feet, and then he’s grabbing me, spinning me around and pressing me against the dresser so hard it rattles. He grabs the cups of my lacy bustier and jerks them down harder, fully freeing my breasts. I gasp, loving the tight pinch of the fabric as it bends to his will. He drops his face, peppering my breasts with fevered kisses. Taking one in each hand, he presses his face in at their crease, swiping up my breastbone with his tongue, his breath hot on my skin.

“Oh god,” I whimper, one hand in his hair. I fling the other hand back, feeling the soft velvet of a baby changing table against my palm. I tip my head back too, letting loose a laugh. If I’m going to hell for fucking this man in a baby’s nursery, at least I’m dressed for the occasion.

“Lick my pussy,” I pant. “Ryan, please—need your tongue—yes—” I shower him with soft praise as he drops down to his good knee, jerking my leather skirt up over my curvy thighs until it’s bunched at my hips. I can only imagine what I look like with the girls spilling out and my ass on display. In this moment, I’m too blissed out to care.

Ryan runs his hands up my calves to my thighs, over the black fishnets. “These are fucking killing me,” he says, pressing his face to my thigh to breathe me in. Then he drags his tongue over the stocking, tasting my skin.

I moan with pleasure, both hands dropping back to the dresser as I adjust my stance. “That feels good.”

Leaning back to look at me, Ryan slides both hands up to the top of my black lace panties. “Can I see what’s mine?”

Heart in my throat, I nod. “Yes, sir.”

Holding my gaze, he drags them slowly down my thighs, exposing my pussy. I fight a shiver, my core squeezing on nothing as I wait, desperate for him to give me what I need. He stops the panties halfway down my thighs, keeping my legs pinned together. Then he drops his face forward, grabbing me by the hips as he presses his face to my bare pussy, his warm breath heating my skin as he takes in my essence, peppering my sensitive skin with soft kisses.

“You smell so fucking good,” he says, kissing across to my hip bone. “I love the smell of this pussy. Love the taste.” To prove his point, he flicks open my pussy lips with two fingers and swipes across my clit with his tongue.

My body spasms as I grab for his hair, my other hand holding tight to the dresser.

“You’re gonna come in my mouth,” he orders. “Here. Now. Fast as you can. Get yourself there. This isn’t a marathon, it’s a sprint. Run with me, Tess. Fucking fly.”

His words spin me up and I’m already aching as he descends, devouring me with all the skill of a man who was born to please a woman, a man who craves control. And I want to give it to him. In this moment, I want to be what he needs. This is what I love about sex with an attentive partner—their pleasure becomes your pleasure, and yours becomes theirs.

“Yes,” I pant, rocking my hips against him as I chase my orgasm.

He works with his fingers and his tongue, fucking me like a dream. Pulling his mouth away, he takes two fingers and rubs them over my clit, applying exquisite pressure—soft then hard, working me in small circles. “Tess, look at me,” he orders.

Forcing my eyes to open, I look down my body at him. His lips aren’t stained quite so red now. There’s so much heat in his eyes, mirrored by open honesty. He’s looking at me like he knows me, like he knows what I need. I think maybe he does.

“Come for me, devil. This one’s not for you, it’s for me. I fucking own this one. Give it to me.”

I’m shocked as hell when I realize I’m right fucking there. I want to give him this. I’ll give him my most vulnerable self. I’ll give him my orgasm. I tip my head back, eyes shut tight as I come. My body is wracked with trembling as my clit suddenly develops a heartbeat, pulsing and throbbing, echoing out in waves.

Ryan drops his fingers away and replaces them with his hungry mouth. He sucks on my clit, humming and flicking with his tongue, giving me heat, vibration, and pressure in one. I fall completely apart, body shaking as I cling to the dresser, knees giving out.

“Stop—stop,” I cry, my hand digging into his hair as I pull him off. “Oh my god, I’m gonna pass out.”

He stands, boxing me in with his height and his towering presence. “You did so good,” he says, tipping my face up to kiss my lips. “My sexy fucking devil. My perfect good girl.”

I’m learning this is what he likes. Once he’s had a taste of me, he likes to share it. He wants my taste on my mouth too. He wants all parts of me to taste like my most primal self, and I’m fucking here for it.

I dive in with my tongue, claiming all of his kisses as my body recovers from the shock of such a fierce orgasm. Once I’ve caught my breath, I drop my hands down to the top of his pants, ready for him to feel as good as I feel. “Fuck me, Ryan. Please, I can’t wait any longer. I need you inside me.”

He rocks into my hand, letting me wrap my fingers around his shaft. I work him slow, dropping my hand down to cup his balls. Beyond the walls of this room, the party pulses on—loud music, laughter, the thump of stereo speakers. In this room, it’s just the two of us. I want him. I need him—

“Tess—wait,” he says, breaking our kiss. “Fuck. Shit.”

“What?” I pant, gazing up at him.

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a condom,” he admits. “I have them back at the house. I really didn’t think I’d need one here,” he adds, gesturing around the dark nursery.

I nod, knowing what he’s asking without asking. “I haven’t been with anyone in months and I’m on the pill—but you have to do what makes you feel comfortable,” I quickly add. “We can wait. We can go back to the house—”

He kisses me, silencing my offers. Pulling back, he cups my face with both hands. “I’ve never been with a woman without a condom.”

I nod, heart in my throat. “Can I ask why?”

He shrugs. “Call it trauma from growing up as the kid of an ER nurse. She had me convinced pretty much anything would lead to my dick turning colors and falling off.”

I laugh, my hands wrapping around his wrists.

“What?” he says.

“Look down.”

He glances down and I know he sees it when he laughs too. His hard dick is currently painted red with my lipstick. “I don’t think this is what she meant,” he says with a smirk, pecking my lips with another kiss.

“I won’t pressure you. Sex is about trust and connection, at least it is for me. And we can always do other things.”

“I want this,” he admits. “I’ve never really had a connection with a partner before. Sex was always just something I did to…get by, I guess,” he explains with a shrug. “I mean, I enjoyed it when it happened. But it wasn’t really about enjoyment if that makes sense. Everything was wrapped, everything was clinical and safe. It was just about satisfying a need. And then I could refocus on my game.”

“You’re a hard worker. You’re committed to your sport.”

“But there is also more to life,” he replies. “I’m not blind to living, Tess,” he adds, kissing me again. “Exploring sex with you has been so much fun. You talk of trusting me? Well, I wanna trust you too. Will you be my first?”

“Are you sure?”

He takes my hand, palming it over his hard erection, and smiles. “This dick is yours ‘til you say otherwise. Take it, sexy devil. Ruin me for all other women.”

I mirror his smile as I take his free hand with mine and trail his fingers over my sternum, between my breasts and down, until he’s cupping my needy pussy. “And this is all yours.” I press myself against him. “I’m aching to have you inside me—”

He silences me with a kiss, and I wrap both my arms around his neck. We’re a stumbling mess as he walks backwards across the room, stopping when he hits the loveseat. He sinks down onto it, and a loud squeak shatters the silence.

I gasp as he reaches a hand under his ass and pulls out a velvety elephant stuffed animal. We both look at it in horror before he tosses it aside with another soft squeak.

“I’ll buy him a new one,” he says, reaching for the panties still twisted around my thighs.

“And a new love seat,” I tease, shifting my weight as I step out of them, leaving me bare assed and dripping for him.

“New curtains.” He pulls me down to straddle his lap. His hands go to the fishnets, his fingers teasing as he runs them up my legs, ending at my thighs.

“New dresser,” I moan, my head tipping back as I grip to his shoulders, my wet pussy gliding against his hard cock.

“I’m gonna buy you things too,” he pants, his hands palming my breasts as I move on top of him.

“Ryan—”

“Friends buy friends presents,” he counters before I can articulate a protest. His mouth closes around my tit and I moan with relief, desperate to feel us connected. His gentle sucking lights me up, sending a wave of pleasure over my body and straight to my clit. He switches sides and I dig my hands in his hair, holding him to my flesh as I grind against him.

“I need more. Please, baby. Please fuck me. I need you inside me. Don’t make me wait any longer—”

We’re grinding in a frenzy as he silences me with his mouth, his hips moving with mine. Dropping a hand down between us, I lift my hips off him, losing that heat of connection, But I know it’s only temporary. I hold his dick by the base, angling him up as I relax my hips, desperate to take him.

“It’s yours,” Ryan whispers, his breath warm at my neck, his hands cradling my hips. “Take it, it’s yours.”

On a breathless whimper, I tease his tip at my entrance, feeling him start to slide in.

“Fucking do it.” His left hand tightens in my hair. “Take all of me in your greedy fucking cunt. Be my devil and own me like you—”

We both cry out as I press down with my hips, his length filling me. Dropping forward, I brace with one hand against the loveseat, the other on his shoulder. I work my hips, exhaling as I take him all the way to the hilt. My ass settles against his thighs and we both groan, adjusting to this feeling of connection.

“You feel amazing. Ride me, baby. You’re so tight, so beautiful like this. Your pussy is gripping me like a fist—Jesus—you’re a queen on her fucking throne.”

His dirty talk washes over me as I begin to move, loving the feel of him filling me. I work my hips, trying to find the best angle to give my clit friction too.

“You need more, don’t you?” His hands cup my breasts as I bounce, chasing my pleasure.

“Yes,” I beg. “Please—”

“Please what?” he teases, bending forward to suck my breast again.

“Mark me, Ryan. Mark me so I know I’m yours.”

Shifting his hold on me, he drops his mouth back down to the swell of my left breast. He places an open-mouthed kiss against my skin. Then he sucks. He marks my flesh as I ride his dick, my orgasm spiraling tighter.

In moments, he breaks away, gasping for air, and I look down to see the red mark on my breast. It turns me all the way on. He wraps his arms around me, holding me to him as we both move our hips, finding a new rhythm. His cock is the perfect size to give me what I need. My orgasm builds inside me, pressure and heat mounting, unfurling outwards, growing deeper, rooting itself in me like a tree.

“I’m close.” I shut my eyes tight as I chase this feeling.

“Tell me when,” he groans, his hands sliding down to grip my ass. “Tess—tell me—”

“Not yet,” I cry, knowing he’s holding back. “God, keep going—”

“Sit back.” He pushes on my shoulders. “Baby, sit back and work your clit. We don’t stop ‘til you scream.”

I shove off his chest, keeping myself impaled on his dick as I change angles, all my weight now balanced over my hips as I bounce on his thighs. He holds my weight easily, meeting me thrust for thrust.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, his eyes locked on me as I move on top of him.

I feel all of me swaying and vibrating in this primal dance. I’m on fire with the need to come.

“Touch your clit,” he demands again. “I wanna watch you come on my dick.”

I drop my hand between us and work my clit, my orgasm burning in my core, moments from bursting outwards. I feel the tingle curling my toes, and I know I’m about to lose all control. “Now,” I moan, my hand going slack on my clit as I just apply steady pressure.

Ryan takes over from below, hands on my hips as he hammers into me, fucking me senseless. My body is frozen as I tip my head back and let out a breathless scream. Beneath me, Ryan’s hips grind, losing all rhythm as he chases his release, spilling into me.

Oh god, I can feel it. I feel the moment he releases inside me. It sends my core quivering, and then it’s like I’m pulling him in deeper. There’s no barrier between us and I take it all, my pussy gripping tight to him as we ride out our orgasms.

The euphoria only lasts moments. Then it just feels like I have nothing left. Emptiness. Perfect emptiness. I’m carved out and hollow. I sink forward, not even recognizing the whimpering noise that escapes me when I press myself against his naked chest.

His arms go around me as our faces swim in a sea of my red curls. He brushes them back, kissing my sweaty forehead as we both find our breath again. After a moment, I lift off him, body still shaking. The loss of him inside me feels devastating. The moment he’s gone, I want him back. I feel his cum between my thighs, warm and wet. I flop down next to him on the love seat, clenching my thighs together, holding him in. We’re seated side by side, only our hands touching. Slowly, I turn my head, and he does the same. We breathe in sync as we come down from our high.

“That was amazing,” he says, still breathless.

I nod, holding his gaze. It was amazing. Ryan Langley is amazing. Kind and thoughtful, beautiful inside and out. Generous. Strong.

Fuck, I am in so much trouble.

“I’ve never—” He goes quiet, looking away.

“What?” I whisper, my hand brushing his thigh.

“It’s nothing,” he says, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Tell me.”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “The day we met…in Jake’s kitchen?”

“I remember,” I say with a smile, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze.

He nods, his gaze heating as his eyes trail down to the mark he left on my chest.

My hand flutters on instinct, my fingers brushing over it, knowing exactly where it is on the swell of my breast.

“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you in that moment,” he admits, his voice soft.

“I remember,” I say again.

His gaze locks back on me and the intensity of it has my smile falling. “You want us to just be friends…friends who fuck.”

My heart stops. “Ryan—”

“And I’ll play along,” he says quickly. “I’ll be your friend, Tess. And I’ll gladly fuck you again. You say the word, and this can all happen again,” he goes on, gesturing between us. “I want you to feel good. I want to be the reason you feel good. And I want you to know that no one has ever made me feel as good as you make me feel. I want this, Tess. I’m afraid of how much I want it,” he admits. “But no matter what else happens, we’re friends, yeah?”

I nod, trying to will my heart to beat. How is vulnerability so easy for him? He makes it seem so effortless to just say exactly what he’s thinking. No games, no tricks. Meanwhile, I’m a mess. Now that the sex is over, my walls are rebuilding fast.

“We can’t stay in here,” I say at last, shifting away. “People will come looking for us.” I’m not sure how I’ll sneak past an entire house of people and have no one notice that I’m freshly fucked. I don’t even have a lipstick with me to try and touch this up.

Ryan stands with a tired groan, awkwardly trying to shimmy back into his boxers and jeans, tucking his dick away.

I’m slipping my breasts back inside my bustier, adjusting them so they sit right, when something catches my eyes. “Ryan,” I murmur, heart in my throat.

“Hmm?” He snatches his shirt up off the floor, slipping it back on.

“Ryan,” I say again, panic rising.

“Are these mine or yours?” he teases, dangling my panties on his pinkie. “I think this is a case of finders keepers—”

“Ryan,” I cry.

He finally turns my way, his hand already stuffing the panties in his pocket. “What?” He takes in my expression, and then he’s reaching for me, dropping back down next to me on the love seat. “Oh—baby, what is it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you with all my blabbing about Jake’s kitchen and—Tess, what—”

I point up to the device with the glowing red light mounted at the corner of the wall. “There’s a camera in here.”


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