by Kaylee Ryan
“You’re letting her drive your car?” Conrad asks.
Royce shrugs. “She’s of legal age and has a driver’s license.”
“Yeah, but—” Conrad starts, but Owen reaches out and smacks him on the back of the head, and he closes his mouth.
I glance over at him. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Royce assures me. “You ready to head out?”
“Yes.” I turn to face his parents. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. Today was so much fun, and the food was delicious.”
“You’re always welcome,” Lena assures me.
“You keep those boys in line.” Stanley points at me, wearing a kind smile.
“Thank you,” I say again when Lena steps forward and wraps me in a hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”
“All right, don’t scare her off,” Royce says, pulling on my hand, making his mother release me from her hold.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner,” Royce tells his parents.
“Oh, Sawyer, are you coming tomorrow? There’s always plenty,” Lena offers.
“Thank you,” I say politely. I assume it’s some kind of family gathering. “I have a lot to do to get ready for the workweek.” That sounds better than I’m not sure your son wants me here.
“Like what?” Marshall asks.
“Marshall,” Lena scolds him. “You don’t pry.”
“She started it.” Marshall winks at me, making me laugh.
“Laundry, the grocery store, cleaning my apartment, the list goes on and on.”
“I can come help with all of that. You don’t want to miss one of Momma’s Sunday dinners.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Royce speaks up before I have a chance to.
I stiffen at his blatant refusal of my attendance. He notices and squeezes my hand. When I look up into his eyes, they tell me a different story. “If she needs help, I’ll do it. But don’t pressure her,” he says, not taking his eyes off mine. “Let her make her own choice.” He breaks the connection and looks over at his brothers. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Mom, Dad, thanks for everything.”
Just like that, hand in hand, we walk toward the door, where Royce picks up both of our bags before guiding us out to his car. He doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the driver’s side door. Digging into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he pulls out his keys.
“You sure you’re okay with me driving? We can catch a ride with Owen.”
“You sober?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. I am too, but you had one and I had four. Even though it was hours ago, you win. You okay with that?”
“Yeah, but uh, my car is at my place, and you can’t drive so….” I let the unspoken question trail off.
“So you’ll stay with me.”
“I can call a cab.”
“You can stay with me.” He places his hands on his hips like he’s rearing for a fight.
“People are going to start talking.”
“First of all, I don’t give a fuck. Second, let them talk. All I’m worried about is how you feel. Stay with me.”
“Royce,” I murmur. I want to stay with him. It’s crazy and irrational, but I’ve enjoyed my time with him. “I don’t think dinner tomorrow is a good idea.”
“You have that much to do?”
“No,” I confess. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t know what this is, and I work for you, and two days ago, that was a deal breaker for you, and now it’s not?” It’s more of a question than a statement. I don’t really know what he’s thinking.
“I can’t answer that, Sawyer. I wish I had the words and the answers. All I can do is be honest with you. Let’s go to my place, and we can talk,” he says as the door behind us slams, and the voices of his brothers filter through the night air.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he agrees, leaning in and kissing my temple. Stepping back, he opens the door for me and then tosses our bags into the back seat before walking around the front and sliding into the seat next to me. “It’s just a car,” he says when he sees me gripping the wheel.
“A car that I’m sure costs more than I make in a year. Just a car,” I add, muttering under my breath.
“It’s insured. Just relax.” He reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. I glance down, and the ink that adorns his fingers is a dark contrast to the ink-free skin on my legs. And very apparent I need to spend more time in the sun. The dome light in the car dims, bathing us in darkness. “Press the button, babe.” He chuckles.
“Right.” Placing my foot on the brake, I press the ignition button, and the engine roars to life. I turn to look at him. I can barely make out his features in the darkness of the car. “Is your seat belt on?”
“Yes, dear,” he says, humor lacing his voice.
“Please, Lord, don’t let me wreck this car,” I mumble under my breath.
I feel his hot breath against my cheek. “Relax, I’m right here.” His lips press against my neck right under my ear.
“Not helping, Royce.”
“Take us home.”
Home. He’s different tonight. After a day with his family, he’s more carefree and affectionate. Just more layers to the sexy, intriguing man that has taken over my thoughts since the moment he saved me from a panic attack on the plane. I know he’s my boss, and a relationship is frowned upon—his words—but I want all of his layers. I want to peel back each one and examine them. I want to know all of him.
The drive back to his place is quiet. I’m sure he notices that my attention is on the road and not wrecking the expensive sexy beast of a car of his. Although it’s quiet, it’s not uncomfortable.
“Go ahead and pull into the garage,” Royce says, hitting a button on the dash when we pull into his driveway. The garage door lifts, and slowly I pull inside.
“You’re fine, Sawyer,” he assures me. “You have plenty of room.”
“I don’t want to rip off a mirror,” I say, concentrating on side mirrors, making sure I indeed have plenty of space.
“You’re cute.”
“Am I pulled up far enough?” I ask him.
“Yeah, you’re good.” He hits the button again, then reaches over, puts the car in Park, and hits the button to turn off the ignition. “Let me turn the light on so you can see where you’re going.” Quickly, he climbs out of the car, and within seconds, the garage light is turned on, and he’s standing next to my door, opening it for me and offering me his hand. “Let me grab our bags.” With one hand tightly clasped around mine, he opens the back door and retrieves our bags.
“I can toss these into the washer, so you have clothes that don’t smell like lake water tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I say as we step into the mudroom.
“This way.” He leads us through the house, and down, and into his bedroom. “This house has two laundry rooms. I only ever use this one since I’m the only one who lives here. I don’t have any detergent in the other one.” He leads us into the closet and through a door that takes us to what has to be the largest laundry room I’ve ever seen.
“Is there a specific way I need to wash any of these?” he asks, unzipping my bag and pulling out my clothes.
“I can do that,” I say, reaching for the bag, but he’s already got it emptied and into the washing machine.
“Can they all be washed together?”
“Yes. Thank you, Royce.”
His reply is a cheeky grin. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, and we can toss them in too.” He places our bags on the island in the laundry room and leads me back to his closet. “T-shirt,” he says, pulling a random shirt off a hanger, “and how about some boxer shorts?” he asks.
“You wear boxer shorts?” I blurt the question and quickly place my hand over my mouth, horrified that the words left my mouth.
A slow, sexy grin tilts his lips. “I own boxer shorts, but I’m more of a boxer brief kind of guy. That is when I wear
them.”
I swallow hard. “Ar-Are you wearing them now?”
He smirks. “Nope.”
“Dear God,” I murmur.
His grin could light up all of downtown Nashville. “What about you?”
“M-Me?” I stammer.
“It’s only fair. You know what I have on. Better yet, maybe you should show me.” He taps his finger to his chin as if he’s thinking about his options. “Yes, definitely show me. I’ll go first.”
He reaches for the waistband of his gym shorts, and I hesitate, only a margin of a second before shouting, “No!”
The sound of his deep, rich laughter surrounds us. “Get changed, beautiful. I’ll wait for you out there.” He points over his shoulder before he turns on his heel and leaves me to change. Alone. In his closet that is bigger than my bedroom in my apartment.
I make the world’s fastest wardrobe swap, and toss my clothes into the washer before starting it. I linger in the closet, not sure of what’s waiting for me when I walk out that door. The attraction is thick, and the more time I spend with him, the more I want him. I want his layers, but I also want his hands all over my body. And his mouth, and… well, you get the idea.
With that want, comes the fear of the unknown. Trusting him, letting him in, and then there is the elephant in the room. He’s my boss.
“Sawyer, you okay in there?” Royce calls out.
Time to face the music. “Yes,” I say, stepping out of the closet.
His eyes rake over me, and I feel naked under his gaze. “Come lie with me.” He holds out his hand. I don’t hesitate to take it and follow him to his bed. I open my mouth to ask if this is a good idea but quickly close it. I want him. Whatever that looks like, I’ll deal with the consequences later.
Chapter 14
Royce
Sawyer climbs on my bed, and the sight just about brings me to my knees. My cock is already throbbing painfully at the sight of her in my clothes, and now lying on my bed, thoughts of stripping her out of them is front and center in my mind.
“Royce?” Her voice is soft. Uncertain.
“Just admiring the view,” I tell her with an easy smile. It’s not entirely untrue. She’s a fucking goddess lying on my black and gray comforter. She looks like she belongs there with her blonde hair splayed out.
She pats the bed next to her, and I don’t waste another second, taking this opportunity to get close to her. “You got some sun.” I gently touch the tip of her nose.
“I’m sure I look like Rudolph. I usually do in the summer. I don’t tan that easily, hence the ghost-white legs I’m sporting.”
“You have fair skin,” I say, running my hand over her arm.
“Curse of being a blonde, I guess.”
“Beautiful,” I whisper, lifting a lock of her hair and rubbing the silky strand between my thumb and index finger.
“Careful, Riggins. That’s the second time tonight you’ve used that word. Your sweet side is showing.”
I can’t help but smile at her. “I’m always sweet.” I try to say it without laughing but fail miserably.
“What are you doing here?” she says, changing her voice to sound deep.
“What are you talking about, crazy girl?”
“That’s what you said to me that first day. You’d just walked around the corner from the elevators and said, ‘What are you doing here,’ in your bossy alpha CEO voice.”
“I only have one voice.”
“Not true. You were brooding. Don’t get me wrong. It was hot. Sexy even, but the polar opposite of the man I knew you to be.”
“And now? Who am I now?” I’m almost afraid to ask, but she’s not wrong. I tend to be over the top at the office, and although I never thought about it until she mentioned it, I do tend to be different things to different people. That’s normal, though, right?
“Complex,” she says, resting her hand against my cheek.
I place my hand over her wrist and turn my head, pressing my lips in the palm of her hand. “I was married,” I blurt. She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are trained on mine as she lets me process my thoughts. “It was good, or at least I thought so until it all came crashing down around me.” Her thumb smooths a line under my eye. “Our marriage wasn’t perfect. She hated the lake, and pretty much everything else I enjoyed, but I loved her. I once thought that love was all you needed.”
“What happened?” she asks softly.
“She complained that I worked too much. It was a constant battle with us, but I had just taken over the reins as CEO, and I thought I had something to prove. To myself, you know? I always knew it would be me who took over for Dad, and I wanted to prove to me and everyone else that he made the right decision. That I could handle being the head of Riggins Enterprises.”
“She wanted more time with you.”
I nod. “I thought so too, so I decided to surprise her. I left the office early and picked up dinner and some flowers. I wanted a night with my wife. I wanted to show her that she was— Anyway, I got there, and the house was quiet. I made my way upstairs to our bedroom and heard moaning.” She gasps, but I keep on. “I pushed open the door and found her and her best friend, Sandra, naked in our bed. They were… let’s just say there were toys and lots of things I can never unsee.”
“I-I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Apparently, they had been sleeping together for years. Jennifer used me as her cover. She signed a prenup and thankfully left quietly. She never apologized. Her exact words were ‘why are you home early?’” I shake my head, warding off the memory.
“Not to poke fun, but isn’t that kind of every man’s fantasy? You know two women in his bed?” There is a sparkle in her eyes, one that tells me she’s trying to lighten the mood.
“No. Not this guy.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“I don’t share, Sawyer.” She swallows hard.
“No sharing. Got it.”
“She crushed me. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, but I loved her. At least I thought I did. Looking back, I’m not so sure. We dated in college, and marriage seemed like the logical next step.”
“Did you, I mean, what about sex?”
“I hate talking about this, let alone to a beautiful woman lying in my bed.” That’s not just a line. I hate talking about my ex-wife, period. I hate it even more that we’re doing it now. However, something tells me that this is important. I need her to understand. She’s always talking about my layers, and this is one of them. I want her to have this missing piece, or layer if you will.
“We don’t have to.” She’s quick to give me an out.
“It’s okay. I want you to know.” I take a minute to think about how to describe my sex life with my ex-wife. “We had sex, often, and it was good, but it was always missing that… spark. I chalked it up to being together for so long and being comfortable. They say that the new wears off, and I thought that’s what happened with us. Now that I’m away from the relationship, looking back, I realize that it was never there.” Not like it is here. In this moment, lying in bed next to her. The sparks are igniting between us. Her touch is like fire to my cheek, and I want to go down in flames with her.
“Spark is important,” she agrees, her voice barely a whisper.
Needing to touch her, I raise my hand and rest it against her cheek. “I never felt like this with her,” I confess. She’s quiet, but her green eyes tell me what her words aren’t. She feels it too.
“Royce?” Her voice is soft, but we’re lying so close to one another she might as well be shouting.
“Yeah?”
“Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything.” I mean that with all that I am. I would do anything for her. I can’t explain why I feel this way. My heart beats faster when she’s near, I’ve done nothing but think about her since the moment we met, and lying here with her next to me, nothing has ever felt this right.
“Kiss me.”
Fucking finally! �
��My pleasure.” Moving in closer, I can feel her breath as it brushes across my face. Making eye contact, I give her the chance to take it back. I wait for one, two, three heartbeats before pressing my lips to hers. Soft. So fucking soft and sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. Moving my hand from her face, I brace myself on the bed and hover over her, and our bodies are now aligned without ever breaking the kiss.
When a soft moan filters from her lips, I swallow it down. I could do this for hours. I’ve never reveled in the act of just kissing a woman. Not because it was going to lead to sex, but because I felt like I couldn’t breathe without doing so.
Her hands grip my shirt, and I’m cursing the fact that it’s in our way. I need to be closer to her, to feel the soft press of her body against mine. I settle for deepening the kiss. She meets me stroke for stroke as our tongues taste one another for the first time.
“Off,” she mumbles against my lip while pulling at my shirt. “Take it off,” she insists, sliding her hands under the hem. She rakes them over my abs, and I feel her touch everywhere. My cock that’s already more than on board with the direction of our night twitches against the zipper in my cargo shorts.
I refuse to stop kissing her. Her lips against mine is the equivalent to taking what feels like my first deep breath in months. Years. Ever. When she gets the shirt to my neck, I brace all of my weight on one arm, letting her pull it out, and repeat the process with the other. The seconds our lips are separated induces panic inside me like I’ve never known.
I need her.
I crave her.
With my shirt out of the way, she places her hands on my cheeks and pulls me back to her. This time she takes control, and I’m willing to concede happily as long as she doesn’t stop kissing me. She nibbles on my bottom lip before soothing the ache with her tongue and forging her mouth to mine yet again.
Heaven.
“More” is her breathy plea.
“Sawyer,” I murmur her name, letting my lips trail across her cheek and down her neck. “Tell me what you want,” I whisper in her ear.
“Y-You,” she pants, her back arching off the bed.
