by C. M. Owens
“Can I come in?” he asks softly, trying to sound hopeful. Maybe he is being serious. After all, he is still just a guy.
We all start to say no, but I tilt my head and beat the other two girls. “They said yes. You can come in.”
In the pitch black of the room, I can hear it, but I can’t see when their heads whip around to me.
“I need a distraction,” I whisper.
Nothing gets said, but they both sigh.
“Really?” Rye says after a beat.
“Really,” I affirm, and I get up to go open the door and usher him in.
“Come on in, Rye. Get an eyeful,” Carmen says, playing along.
I really like her right now.
As soon as I peek my head out, the look he gives me proves this was a mistake. A really stupid mistake.
“Rain-check,” he says, grabbing for me.
I try to dodge him, but I’m not quick enough. Maggie laughs as Rye holds me to his body with one hand, and closes the door with his other before wrapping me up in an unbreakable hold.
He grins down at me, warning me there will be hell to pay, but I go on the offense and push my lips to his. When the surprise makes him part his lips, my tongue slips into the gap, and his hold on me becomes different as I wrap my legs around his waist.
“You’re cheating,” he murmurs insincerely as his hands slide down to only cup my ass.
He walks me back toward his house, and I grin against his lips.
“Oh?” I ask, feigning innocence.
He doesn’t even acknowledge that as we stumble back into his house. He drops me to his bed, and I grin up at him. I know a way to make him forget that I just figured out how to reprogram his shower to where he can only get cold water to come out.
Okay, maybe Wrench—whose real name is still a mystery—came over and helped me out. He’s quickly becoming my favorite accomplice.
“You’re going to give me the new password,” Rye growls as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“Suuurrre. Right after you give me the password to my car’s stereo.”
I could have just gotten Wrench to fix it instead of hacking his shower, but where’s the fun in that?
I grab at his loose track pants and shove them to the floor, freeing the very excited part of his body. I love the fact that I’m the one who turns him on.
“I mean it, Brin. I love my hot showe—Fuck.”
The last word hisses through his lips when I take him into my mouth. He was so busy ranting that he didn’t even see what I was up to. Now he’s standing in front of the bed as I sit on the edge and own him.
The piercing slides over my tongue, teasing me with the power it has, and Rye’s hands go to my hair as I give to him what he gave to me a few hours ago. His mouth is a rare find, because he knows how to slay me in the best possible way with his tongue.
More air hisses through his teeth when I get him closer, taking him as deep as I can while clutching his hips for support. He rocks into me as his muscles tighten, giving me fair warning about what’s about to come—no pun intended.
“Brin,” he whispers hoarsely, warning me verbally, but I keep him firmly planted inside my mouth, refusing to stop my ministrations until I make him feel just as sublime as he made me feel.
Then the warm, salty flavor invades my mouth, and I swallow as quickly as I can while his whole body goes limp and he drops to the bed. I climb over beside him, glowing proudly as he wraps me up. He kisses me, even though he’s out of breath and it’s a weak kiss, but I can’t help but feel a little powerful.
“Stay the night,” he murmurs against my lips for the third time this week. We’ve been doing this thing for a week now, and he really wants me to sleep over every time.
“Nope,” I say, making the word pop.
I can’t and I won’t. It’ll confuse the already blurry lines.
We haven’t even had sex tonight. We’ve just talked and made out like teenagers, then there were a few exchanges of small pranks until he found his shower, and now I’ve just done this to him, just as he did to me earlier. I’d love to have sex, but I think I want to leave things the way they are—for tonight.
“Then let me spend the night over there with you,” he says while running his fingers through my hair and yawning.
He adjusts himself to put his head on my chest, and I begin running my fingers through his hair just like he was doing with mine.
He’s sweet when he’s sleepy. His eyes are barely staying open, his breaths are already slow, and his grip on me tightens every time he thinks I’m going to move.
So I get still and quiet. Within a few minutes, he’s fast asleep with his head resting on my chest and his arms wrapped around my waist. I kiss his forehead, but he doesn’t really move.
There’s no reason why I can’t stay here long enough for him to rest peacefully.
As soon as I’m sure he’s not going to wake up, I uncurl myself from his grip.
Just as I’m walking out of his room, his phone buzzes on the table in the hallway. I look—reflexively, not because I’m prying—and a touch of disappointment cloaks me.
Wren: She’s good for you. I think you should tell her everything. She could...
That’s all the preview shows, and as much as I want to read the whole message, I refrain. But I can’t help but wonder what there is to tell. I like the fact that the friend he trusts is telling him that I’m good for him. Maybe...
I can’t think about maybe. It’ll hurt too much.
Chapter 12
RYE
My name tears through her lips like a curse, and she rakes her nails over my chest as I continue fucking her from underneath. I kiss her hard, swallowing her sounds of tortured pleasure, waiting for the second orgasm to sweep through her body.
The second her walls clench around me again, I find a dizzying release, holding her to me as my legs stiffen, and I thrust up and hold myself deep within her.
“You’re going to be late for work,” I mumble against her cheek as she pants heavily on top of me.
“You woke me up an hour early,” she groans. “I’m not going to be late. What are you doing in my bedroom so early? Again?”
I frown as she slaps the alarm clock that is just now going off.
“I thought you had to be in at eight,” I say as my hands start sliding up her body.
I never wake up early, but that has changed these past few weeks. She rarely spends the night. Usually I have to trick her into it, but I love being in bed with her when she first wakes up.
So, I keep showing up, dragging my ass out of bed with the sun, and watching her sleepy eyes open when I jar her awake. The reward is always worth the grumpy girl I get afterwards. Right now, I’m still inside her, and she’s still coming down from her orgasm.
It’s been a month almost, and I still can’t seem to get enough. I love it and hate it at the same time, because I’m a little bit consumed by her even when she’s not around. Which is the main reason I take two or three days here and there and go silent—no calls or visits. It keeps her from forgetting what this is, and she never calls or texts me on those days either, which lets me know she still understands.
I kiss her neck and start moving inside her again, but she almost jumps off me and abandons me on the bed. “You’re going to kill me with sex,” she groans, going to her bathroom, and I sit back and admire the view of the very naked hips swaying from side to side.
“Sounds like a damn good way to go, if you ask me. Why aren’t you going to be late?”
“Because I don’t have work today,” she says as the water in the shower starts running.
I frown as I get up and follow her into the bathroom, already naked. When I join her, I’m met with the sprayer head she’s holding, and the cold stab of the water almost steals my breath as she shoots me with it.
“Damn!” I yelp, leaping out, and she laughs behind the curtain while I fall to the floor.
“What was that for?”
&nbs
p; She continues laughing, and I glare at the curtain.
“For waking me up on my day off. It’s Saturday, jackass.”
Oh. Shit. It’s Saturday?
“Good. Then you don’t have anything better to do than spend the day with me. Let’s go get breakfast and go for a ride on my bike.”
I stand up and rejoin her in the shower—after making sure she isn’t waiting with that damn sprayer head still in her hand.
“Not today. I’m going to the vineyard to see Raya. She’s got a thing going on, and she invited me.”
I didn’t get invited, and that sort of pisses me off.
“And you don’t want to take me?” I pout like a five-year-old, but she just laughs.
“I would, but that would be awkward, since it’s all girls. Maybe you and I can see each other tonight. If I make it home.”
She’s trying to piss me off. “If you make it home?”
She shrugs as she washes the shampoo out of her hair, and I do all I can not to concentrate on the water cascading down her body.
“There will be a lot of wine involved. I want to get really, really drunk. It’s a shame you won’t be there for me to take out my drunken fun on.”
She sighs wistfully while offering me a teasing gaze.
“I want to go. So what if it’s all girls? I survived that night when Ash and them came over and ranted about hating men all night. I can survive a few hours of women drinking.”
She turns toward the shower, facing away from me, and I slide in behind her.
“I would let you, but I don’t think Raya would like it. She just wants girls there, and I was among the few invited. Besides, I’m sure the guys will be calling you to do something with them.”
This is really pissing me off. It’s been three days since I’ve seen her. We never go longer than the three day period of silence. Usually it’s just two days, but I needed an extra-long dose of separation this time. But four days is too damn much, especially since I won’t be able to see her much tomorrow.
“Then at least let me drive you out there. I want you on my bike.”
She turns to me, and her tight, barely-there smile spreads to be bigger and more genuine. “You’ve never put me on your bike. In fact, you said no girls allowed.”
“I’ve changed my mind. So can I drive you out there?”
Why is she making this so hard?
“Yes,” she says, finally wearing that smile I love seeing her use, because she only ever uses that specific one for me. “If you promise to let me drive. Just for a little while.”
“Hell no,” I scoff, and she shrugs while stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel.
“Then no deal.”
My mouth drops open as I follow her out of the shower, shutting off the water as I reach for a towel.
“You can’t be serious. I’ve never let a girl ride on my bike. I’m not going to let one drive it.”
She carries on with grabbing a second towel and drying her hair, ignoring me as though this conversation is over. It’s not.
“I’m driving you out there,” I say with finality.
“Not unless you let me drive your bike for at least ten minutes.”
“Not happening.”
“Then I’m driving my Camry.”
We’ll see about that.
***
BRIN
“Where are my keys, Rye?” I ask, glaring at him as he leans against my Camry. His motorcycle is parked in my yard with two helmets ready and waiting.
His smirk is almost sexy. Almost. “I’ll give them back after we get to the vineyard. Hop on.”
He motions toward his bike, and I groan while walking down the steps of my porch, even though I’m secretly hiding my grin. He’s not a morning person, but he shows up over here all the time—unless he’s taking one of his breaks. Those are pissing me off.
I know he’s trying to remind me this isn’t a relationship, and that’s really the only way to do it. But he’s the one who is calling all the shots, and I’m just letting him. One thing is for sure, he doesn’t want this turning into more.
How can this not turn into more? It has to. He’s stealing my keys and begging to drive me three hours away for a girls’ night because he can’t go more than three days without seeing me. Hell, he usually can’t go more than two.
Personally, it always pisses me off, because I can barely go a few hours without seeing him, which reminds me how much more I care about him than he cares about me.
He comes toward me after picking up a helmet, and he fastens it to me, double checking to make sure it’s safely secured, and then he presses a sweet kiss to my lips before putting his on.
He throws a long leg over his bike, looking too sexy and graceful for words, and I come to join him on the back. As much as I’d like to punish him and deny his demand to drive me, I can’t. It feels too good to be pressed up against him.
I hide my grin as I say, “I’m doing this under extreme protest.”
He just laughs while cranking up the beast, and it roars to life as my arms go around his waist. I get as close as I can while propping my feet on their designated perches, and he rubs my hands with his before he takes the handlebars and drives out of my yard.
I don’t mean to giggle, but a thrill shoots through me. I knew he wouldn’t let me drive. And I didn’t even want to drive. I just didn’t want to cave too easily. It’s all an elaborate game of strategy and war, so I’ve started using it to my benefit.
For miles and miles we ride, and I frigging love it. It’s freeing, exciting, exhilarating... It’s amazing. Motorcycles are now among my favorite things.
We drive straight through, only slowing down for him to show me things, and I soak it all in like I do every moment we’re together. We talk all the time. ALL the time. He calls me at work, shows up at work, and I do the same to him. I’ve kept him from screwing me inside the museum, but he won the battle about his office. Now his desk has been christened.
I’ll never forget the surprise on Jessica’s face when she caught us kissing. It doesn’t bother me what people think anymore. And Rye doesn’t give a damn about who sees me wrapped around him.
When we finally reach the vineyard, I almost pout. But he has to come back and get me. Maybe he’ll talk Raya into letting him stay.
We pull up to where we see all the cars, and he turns off the motorcycle just as Raya comes out with her arms crossed over her chest.
“You too? Is it impossible for a guy to let his girl come to a damn girls’ night without him?” she growls.
“It’s not night,” Rye says unapologetically, but he doesn’t correct her about me not being his girl.
We’ve avoided hanging out with everyone since the Leah disaster. I forgot why until this moment.
Dane steps out onto the porch, waving at us as he walks to his car. Did he drive Rain out here?
He grabs a purse from the car and hurries back in. I just frown. If he’s staying then—
“If Dane is staying, then so am I,” Rye says as he climbs off his bike, taking my hand and helping me off, too. With a few quick motions, his helmet is off, and his hair has that sexy, messy look I love.
“Might as well. They’re all here. I just called Kade to come back, but he was already on his way.”
She tries not to grin, but she can’t help it. That girl is so in love. Must be nice.
“I’ve got it,” Rye says when I struggle to get the helmet off.
He moves my hands and removes the helmet for me, and then he bends and pushes his lips against mine, earning a smile from me. I wrap my arms around his neck and giggle when he picks me up, carrying me toward the house.
“You two are so damn gross,” Ethan says from the porch, and Rye grins against my lips while releasing me.
“Why the hell are you here?” Rye asks, still smiling.
I’m not overly fond of Ethan. I can tell he doesn’t understand Rye’s fascination with me. And I’m sure he expected them to be hangi
ng out more than they are. Rye is the one who keeps showing up and kidnapping me from my house. I’m not twisting his arm to keep seeing me when he does.
“I came out to see Kade, and apparently stumbled into a couples’ night. What the hell?” Ethan mumbles.
He looks at Raya and shakes his head, but I don’t know why. Raya is gorgeous—perfect for the Colton Prince.
“Not what I expected to find,” he murmurs under his breath.
So he’s not impressed with Raya either? It’s not just me?
Rye doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls it up to his lips and kisses it, and then he bends and kisses me again. My smile is as instant as always. This is different from the last time we were all together. And I don’t feel so on edge.
“Let’s get in and start tasting the wine,” Ethan grumbles.
“It’s too early to start drinking,” Raya says as she follows us in.
“I’m in couple hell. It’s a perfect time to start drinking.”
He goes straight toward the wine, and I roll my eyes. “You look windblown,” Ash says as she walks over, smiling while drinking a bottle of water.
“She looks sexy,” Rye says, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling my back to his front.
“You rode his bike?” she asks, apparently doing the math.
“I stole her keys,” Rye says with a shrug. “Speaking of which...”
He pulls my keys out of his pocket and hands them to me, and I roll my eyes while tucking them into the pocket of my shorts.
“You want wine? They’ve got an excellent merlot here. I can’t have it, but I can live vicariously,” Ash says.
“Brin likes white wine. But she can’t drink so early because we haven’t really eaten. It’s only like noon. And I’m starving.”
He remembers what kind of wine I like. Why is that so sweet?
“So, where are you from?” Ethan asks me, but his eyes are on Rye, so I’m assuming the question is for him to answer.
“She’s from Sterling Shore. Why?” Rye asks, his grip getting tighter.
“Just curious. Never seen her around before.”
