I see him look around the bar, checking to make sure that we’re not being paid any attention to. He bends with his knees and grips my ass cheeks in the palms of his hands, bringing us flush together so our bodies touch. His voice is dark as he all but growls. “I know I’m the one who can put my dick in that treasure cove. I know I’m the one that can pull that hair, I can pull on those nipples, and I can smack this ass,” he squeezes my flesh like he owns it, where his hands rest. “The question is – will you let me?”
It’s not a question I can say no to. The way the air cackles between us, the alcohol I’ve consumed, and the sudden fascination I have with his heat. There’s not any way that I can say no nor is there any desire on my part to deny it. I’ve denied myself a lot of things in this life and this right here is not something that I want to brush off. This is God giving me what I want on a silver platter, a sacrificial offering for the shit I’ve gone through the past few years. This is my Cinderella moment and my SEC Championship all tied together into one great big bow. Over six feet and two hundred pounds of bow. If I say no, Lord, never offer me anything else because I’m gonna be a nun for the rest of my life.
“You’re what?” He asks, a glimmer of surprise and playfulness in his eyes.
I said that out loud? Never mind, I can fix this.
“Yes,” I breath out, adding on a “please.”
“Oh baby, you don’t have to beg. I’ll do whatever you need me to,” Ryan says as I find my hand in his and stumble to keep up as he pulls us out of the bar. We pass people we’ve known our whole lives, clients I’ve helped to the altar, and I’m pretty sure we just passed the Deacon of the church. No one stops us as we hit the front door. I gulp in the fresh air, sure as the world my senses are going to come to me.
Guess what? They don’t. I’m in for whatever this full moon-lit night is going to bring us. Safe Whitney is not putting the brakes on a ride crazier than a lap at Talladega. No, Wild Whitney has taken her place. Funny how both are four letter words, yet they couldn’t be further apart.
In mere minutes I’m in his truck, and we’re headed towards my house. I will myself not to pass out, because for the first time in years, I want to be here and present for this experience that’s about to happen. I want to remember every damn detail. If it’s only going to be for this one night, I don’t want to miss a thing.
MVP (The MVP Duet Book 2) Page 15
