by Tiffany Snow
“So were you lying?” I persisted, refusing to be moved from where I stood. “You said you were in love with me. Was that bullshit?” I wanted to know. That had been such an amazing thing to say, something no one had ever said to me before, and I had to know if he’d been telling me the truth.
Ryker’s blue gaze held me captive as he reached to cup my cheek in his hand. “It wasn’t bullshit,” he said at last. His palm was calloused and warm against my cheek. Light from the fixture overhead glinted off the metal of his dog tags. The long-sleeved Henley he wore stretched across his chest and shoulders.
He kissed me, a sweet press of his lips against mine that seemed to say more about how he was feeling than anything else. I kissed him back, glad he hadn’t asked me for a declaration in return. I wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet.
The sweet kiss quickly turned into more, his tongue sliding against mine in a wet heat that went right through me. His hands moved to the hem of my tank and he dragged it up over my head, separating us. I tugged at his shirt, too, but he had to help me.
I felt like I couldn’t get to him fast enough and when the bare skin of his chest met mine, it was a sweet relief. He was kissing me again, his lips trailing down my jaw, then his hands circled my hips and he lifted me.
Surprised, I clutched at his shoulders as he sat me on the counter and stepped between my legs. I buried my fingers in his hair as his mouth fastened over my breast. The heat that had been building fanned into flame and I moaned.
His mouth caught the sound, his tongue teasing mine. My nipples rubbed against his chest, creating a delicious friction, so I did it again. I could tell he liked it as much as me, because his kisses grew deeper and more demanding. He was hard inside his jeans, pressing against the core of me.
Ryker pulled at the pajama shorts I was wearing, yanking the waistband down and lifting me so he could slide them off. I had a quick moment of Oh God, on the kitchen counter? That’s not sanitary. Then he was unzipping his fly and I was all Aw hell, that’s what Lysol’s for.
The height was perfect and I was wet and ready for him, though his initial thrust made me gasp as he filled me.
“God, you feel good,” he rasped.
Yeah, ditto.
He hadn’t started moving yet, just buried balls deep inside me as my body stretched to accommodate him.
“Kiss me.”
No problem. I was pressed against him from the chest down to where we were connected, and our kisses became as deep and wet as his cock moving in and out of me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and held on for the ride.
Ryker’s hands were on my hips, holding me where he wanted me, and I didn’t disagree with his choice. I had to breathe, though, so was forced to tear my lips from his so I could suck down more air. My skin was hot and so was his, a sheen of sweat covering us.
He moved me slightly and I gasped. “Oh yeah, oh God, yeah, right there,” I half-moaned. Ryker was a good listener, and I could feel my orgasm hovering close. “Harder … faster … please …”
Ryker’s head was buried in my neck, but I swore I heard him growl and felt the scrape of his teeth against my skin. But then he did as I’d said and I was beyond caring if he barked like a dog, just so long as he kept doing what he was doing.
Cries and gasps spilled from me as he pushed me over the edge, my body convulsing around his. He groaned, his cock growing even larger inside me, then he was coming, too, the pulsing of his cock prolonging my orgasm in the best way.
Both of us were gasping for air and I felt boneless, draped against him. Wow. That had been … just … well, words failed me, but I’d never look at the kitchen counter in the same way ever again.
“You’re amazing, baby,” he whispered in my ear, making my lips curve in a tired but sated smile.
“Ditto,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to the skin underneath his jaw.
He fastened his jeans and picked me up off the counter, sliding an arm under my knees and the other behind my back.
“Wait, my pajamas—”
“You’re not going to need them.”
And he was right.
CHAPTER FIVE
My head was spinning the next morning, thinking through the conversation we’d had the night before. I was thrilled with Ryker’s confession, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. On one hand, I wanted to tell him I felt the same, because I did. I’d been happy these past few months and was coming to depend on him and need him more than I ever had someone else.
Yet he’d pulled the rug from underneath me with his hang-ups about my father and money. I didn’t want to put myself and my feelings out there if he was going to end things just because I had wealthy parents. I’d been cautious about letting myself feel more for Ryker because it had seemed so surreal that a man like him would want to date someone like me—someone who was naïve, a bit sheltered, had a boring job, and was a total non-badass.
I’d gotten ready for work and was pouring a cup of coffee the next morning when Ryker appeared. Fresh from a shower, his hair was damp and all he wore was a pair of jeans. Literally. I knew he went commando when he stayed over and showered in the morning. That knowledge, combined with the view of his bare chest and arms, tempted me to set aside my coffee and christen my kitchen table the way we’d christened the counter.
“Good morning,” he said, giving me a kiss that made my toes curl. Taking another mug from the cabinet, he filled it with coffee from the pot and took a sip.
I gazed longingly at the fly of his jeans, currently unbuttoned, and sighed a little. Time to get my mind off it. “So you didn’t tell me … how does Leo Shea know you?” I asked. “And why did he call you McCrady last night?”
Ryker’s mug paused on its journey to his mouth. “I can’t really talk about it,” he said, taking another sip.
“I figured maybe you used to do undercover work,” I said. “Something like that.”
“So he thought you were dead, and now he knows you’re not,” I persisted. “Isn’t that a problem?”
Ryker set down his mug and crossed his arms over his chest. I tried not to stare.
“Yeah.”
I waited, but he didn’t say anything more. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I can’t,” he said. “It’s police business.”
“Leo Shea knows who I am, and that I’m dating a man he knows as McCrady,” I said. “I think that ship has sailed.”
His lips thinned and I belatedly remembered that maybe I shouldn’t have brought up that part.
“He wouldn’t know anything about you if you’d done what I told you to,” Ryker said.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” I replied, taking another sip of my coffee.
“Putting yourself in harm’s way?”
“No. Helping you,” I corrected.
“I didn’t need your help, Sage,” Ryker said with a shake of his head.
“I wasn’t willing to take that chance.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and returned his glare. His lips twitched and he walked over to me.
Sliding his arms around my waist, he pulled my stiff body toward him. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you’re mad?”
His gravelly, just-rolled-out-of-bed voice combined with the twin weapons of his signature half-grin and his heavy-lidded blue eyes made my irritation melt, though I pretended it hadn’t. No sense letting him know how much power he had over me.
“What an incredibly sexist and patronizing thing to say,” I retorted, looking down my nose at him the best I could while he towered over me. He pulled me closer.
“My apologies,” he murmured, his lips by my ear. “Make it up to you tonight? Over dinner?”
A date! I loved when Ryker had time for us to actually go out. His hours were so odd sometimes that it seemed we only saw each other in bed. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing …
“Like a real dinner? Or something we have to eat with our hands?”
“Okay then,” I said, extricating myself from his hold though it was the last thing I wanted to do. He was half-naked and smelled like soap and warm, clean man. But if I didn’t hurry, I’d be late for the bus, then late for work. “And just so you know,” I couldn’t resist adding, grabbing my purse and slipping on my heels before heading to the door. “You’re not the only one going commando today.”
The look on his face was priceless as I shut the door, making me grin for the next thirty minutes straight.
* * *
Parker and I didn’t discuss what had occurred in my apartment or the things he’d told me. I’d thought about what he’d said … and hadn’t said. He’d basically admitted he was jealous, without using that word, but hadn’t answered when I’d asked him if he’d changed his mind about us. It was like one step forward and two steps back. And I was through doing that with him.
I had lunch with Megan, telling her my story of the dinner from hell and how upset Ryker had been, how angry I’d gotten, and how we’d made up last night, but I left out the part about Parker. I wasn’t even sure how I felt about what he’d said, much less try to explain it to someone else. She listened sympathetically as we ate.
“So Ryker’s okay with the whole parents-being-rich thing?” she asked when I’d finished.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “At least he said it wasn’t bullshit, that he was in love with me. That’s good, right?”
“Are you in love with him?”
I grimaced. “I’ve tried to not think about it too much. It’s been fun, yeah, but I keep waiting for him to wake up and be like why am I with you when I could be with some hot model chick? Sayonara, babe.”
“What if he has feelings for you, and is thinking long-term,” she persisted. “Will you let yourself fall in love with him?”
I thought about it, thought about how I’d felt when he’d said he was in love with me.
“I think it’s too late,” I admitted.
Megan smiled. “Of course it is,” she said. “I know you, and you can’t sleep with a guy for four months and not fall in love with him. You wouldn’t be you.”
When I got back to the office, I had the unpleasant surprise of sharing an elevator with Monique. Wearing a red wrap dress that hugged her curves with a plunging neckline, I caught more than a few men looking at her twice.
“Monique, good to see you again,” I said to her, faking polite conversation as Parker’s comment about her wanting me fired echoed inside my head.
“Ah, yes, you are zee secretary, no?” she asked.
I gritted my teeth and smiled. “Executive Administrative Assistant.”
She waved her hand in the international equivalent of Whatever as the elevator doors opened. She breezed out and I followed, nearly choking on the cloud of perfume left in her wake.
Monique pushed open the door to Parker’s office, letting herself in before I could stop her.
“Parrrrrker,” she purred. “I’m so sorry I missed dinner last night. I want to make it up to you.” She sat her skinny ass right on the edge of his desk, and I had a brief fantasy of shoving her onto the floor.
Parker had been working but glanced up now that she was sitting on his file.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “She didn’t stop to wait—”
“I am his girlfriend,” Monique interrupted me. “I do not need to wait for zee secretary to say my name.”
The look of disdain on her face made my hands clench into fists and I opened my mouth to tell her what she could do with her stupid name, but stopped when Parker spoke.
“It’s fine, Sage,” he said with a nod in my direction. “Close the door on the way out, will you?”
Our eyes met and I couldn’t help remembering the things he’d said last night. Yet here he was, with his hand on Monique’s bare knee.
“Of course. Sir.” If I could’ve slammed the door on my way out, I would have. Unfortunately, it was one of those cushion-close doors that drifted silently shut no matter how much force was used. Dammit.
I watched without looking like I was watching them, which meant I got nothing done for the next ten minutes as they sort of talked but mainly kissed. It was so unlike Parker to let something personal interfere with work that I had to wonder what was so great about Monique. Maybe he just felt more for her and was completely infatuated with her. Maybe French girls just did it better than American girls.
The green monster of jealousy set up shop right next to me, cracking its knuckles and digging its claws into my gut. I was stupid for believing Parker last night. He wanted what he couldn’t have, and even that had been fleeting. He seemed perfectly happy playing suck-face with French Barbie.
“Wow. Is that—”
“Yeah,” I answered Megan’s unfinished question. She’d sidled up next to me, both of us staring through the glass. Parker and Monique were talking now, their faces close together. His hand was still on her leg … correction, now it was her thigh. I ground my teeth together.
“She’s really pretty.”
I shot Megan a glare at her unabashed praise and her cheeks flushed. “I’m just saying,” she muttered.
“Well, she’s a total bitch,” I retorted. “She wanted Parker to fire me because I was ‘too pretty.’ ” I used quote-y fingers and a bad French accent.
“Oh my God, he told you that?” she asked, eyes wide. I nodded. “You know what that means, don’t you?” she asked.
“What does it mean?” I asked, distracted by Monique putting her arms around Parker’s neck. She was going to wrinkle his jacket and get her nasty-ass perfume all over him.
“Sage,” Megan said.
“Hmm?” By God, if she even got a hint of lipstick on his collar, I was going to strangle her with her own nylons …
“Sage!”
“What?” I said, reluctantly turning away from the show.
“He’s trying to make you jealous,” Megan said.
“Pffft. Please,” I said, waving her off and turning back toward the office.
“Listen to me,” she said urgently. “He tells you that his girlfriend doesn’t like you because you’re too pretty? Then lets her come waltzing in here to put on a PDA just feet from your desk? That’s not the Parker I know, but it sounds very much like he’s trying to get your attention.”
I turned back again to look at her. “Really?” I thought about it. “No, he wouldn’t—”
“Oh yes he would,” she said emphatically. “Have you ever seen Parker do anything remotely like this before?” She nodded toward his office.
“Well …”
“Of course you haven’t,” she said. “It’s because he sees you’re with Ryker and has finally wised up to what’s between the two of you.”
“But it’s too late,” I said. “I’m with Ryker. I love him, not Parker. Right?” Sudden self-doubt assailed me. I did love Ryker. I wouldn’t have wanted him to meet my parents, wouldn’t have let him sleep in my bed or make love to me on my (now spotless and disinfected) kitchen counter, if I didn’t.
“You’re the only one who can say if it’s too late,” Megan replied. “But I’m telling you, he’s not into her. He’s using her to get to you.”
I glanced back into Parker’s office. “I dunno, he looks pretty darn into her,” I said. “Does she have her tongue in his ear?”
Megan shrugged and walked away. My computer dinged and when I looked at the screen, I smiled.
Toggling the intercom button, I said in a sweeter-than-saccharine voice, “Parker, five minutes until your four o’clock with Lowry in conference room two-twelve.”
“Thank you, Sage.”
I watched from the corner of my eye as Parker disentangled himself from Monique’s claws. Though he’d supposedly been glad to see her, I could read the irritation on his face and in his body language as he gathered his things for the
meeting. Monique was pouting and it looked as though she was arguing with him, but no way was I going to listen in. I had some pride.
Oh, who the hell was I kidding?
I toggled the button again, turning the volume low so I had to strain to hear.
“… can’t cancel my meeting, Monique,” Parker was saying.
“You have a secretary. Make her go for you.”
“That’s not what she does.”
“Oh, really? Then what exactly eez it zat she does for you?” No escaping the petulant aggression in those words.
“Knock it off, Monique,” Parker warned, straightening his tie. “I’m not in this to be nagged to death about Sage. We agreed to have a little fun together. That’s it. This is twice you’ve shown up at my work. I’ve been patient, but that’s about to end.”
Monique was immediately contrite. “I am sorry, Parrrker,” she said. “I just miss you so. Maybe tonight we go out, drink and dance, no? To that place we like. What eez it called?”
His smile was thin and his answer perfunctory. “The Underground. Look, I’ll give you a call.” Politely giving her his arm, he helped her off the desk just as he glanced my way.
Quickly averting my gaze, I toggled off the intercom and pretended I was working on the computer as they came out of the office.
“I’ll be back in about an hour,” Parker said to me, his grip around Monique’s elbow as he propelled her down the hallway. I watched them disappear into the elevator.
So they’d been drinking and dancing together, eh? I wasn’t sure I believed Megan’s premise about Parker trying to make me jealous. Why should he? He’d already turned me down.
And had just told me last night that he wants me and always has.
But that wasn’t going to happen. I was with Ryker now. I worked for Parker, just as I always had, and I wasn’t going anywhere. And I totally wasn’t jealous.
Though the picture in my head of Monique in Parker’s bed wouldn’t go away.
Ryker called my cell a short while later. “I’ve been thinking all day about what you’re not wearing under that skirt,” he said.
“Really?” I asked, all innocence. “I apologize for disrupting your concentration. I’ll try not to do it again.”
