Her mother shook her head, worrying her lower lip as she stared from one teacup to the other. ‘They could have gotten bumped sitting on the countertop. I should have read them right away.’
‘Dinner was ready,’ Douglas said. ‘No tea readings during dinner.’
‘That’s your rule, dear.’ Beatrice frowned, tilting the cups around, still studying them.
‘It was a fair trade. I gave up reading newspapers at the table.’ Douglas winked at Megan. She knew her father only read the papers to annoy her mother and get her to stop the nightly tea readings. ‘Besides, Zoe’s cooking is always well worth our full attention.’
Kat and Sasha laughed uncontrollably from the opposite side of the table. The two of them had been cracking jokes at Zoe and Megan’s expense all night. It was clear they were drunk by the way they swayed in their chairs, hopping up and down excitedly each time they found something amusing.
Feeling Ryan’s gaze on her, Megan turned to him. His soft eyes and easy smile caught her attention and held it. He hadn’t said much to her since coming inside with Kat, but he said plenty to her parents until both of them seemed completely enchanted by the man.
Wine coursed through her veins, pleasantly hazing her senses. Her lids felt heavy, her muscles relaxed and the pressure of Ryan’s touch haunted her mouth. He was everything she told herself she didn’t want. Maybe it was the liquor, or perhaps the fact she’d been so long without a lover, but the thought of sleeping with Ryan made her heart beat just a little faster. She clenched her thighs together, as they again sparked to life, and tried to get her sex to stop aching. The more she fought her arousal, the more erotic notions curled in her brain.
Ryan’s breathing deepened, matching hers. The sound of her sister’s laughter faded. If she leant up in her chair, she’d be able to touch his leg under the table. His pants hugged his body, giving away the strong muscles of his thighs. Megan flexed her hand, pressing it to her own leg. She imagined what it would feel like to frisk him, standing behind him as she ran her fingers along the inside of his leg, reaching his balls. And then to push forwards, cupping his shaft in her hands until his cock became so hard it strained the material covering it.
Or maybe he’d frisk her, pressing her down like a dangerous criminal. One hand to her back, keeping her still, as he jerked her pants down to expose the wet lips of her pussy. His free hand would release his erection, stroking the length so it was good and hard. Megan tried to suppress the hunger, the impulsive desire, the ache of unfulfilled passions. She began to lean forwards, but Zoe’s voice stopped her, dragging her hazy mind back to reality.
‘Shh!’ Zoe waved her hands at their two giggling sisters to get them to be quiet. ‘What is it, Mom? What do you see?’
‘Yeah, Mom, what do the voices tell you?’ Sasha whispered, not too quietly.
‘Don’t go to the light,’ Kat added, causing another fit of giggling.
Megan took a deep breath, shaking herself out of her stupor. She’d forgotten Ryan’s blackmail as she stared at him. But now, it came back to her as Zoe’s words brought her attention to the teacups.
‘I . . .’ Beatrice frowned. She looked up at Megan glancing between her daughter and Ryan, shaking her head. ‘I’ll do it again.’
‘Why? What does it say?’ Megan asked, sitting forwards. By the look on her mother’s face, the leaves said the truth. They said she was not destined to marry Ryan and bear him children. She didn’t need a fortune teller to know that much.
‘It’s unclear.’ Beatrice picked up the cups and hurried towards the kitchen.
Megan knew her mother was lying. For one thing, the woman was a horrible liar, perhaps one of the worst. For the second, in all the years Megan could remember, her mother never claimed she was unable to read what the tea leaves supposedly said.
‘Mom probably doesn’t want to be the one to tell Megan she’s going to have twelve kids.’ Sasha laughed, snorting as she fell over in her chair.
‘Oh, can you . . . ?’ Kat’s laughter joined Sasha’s in a fit of hyperventilation. ‘Can you see Megan and . . . ?’
‘Twelve kids?’ Sasha finished. She lifted her hands in an obvious attempt to imitate her sister, waving them in the air and screaming softly in a panic.
‘OK, I think you two have had too much wine.’ Douglas reached over to take their glasses away.
Megan grabbed her own before her father decided to confiscate it as well.
‘Mm, it’s late,’ Kat said, stretching her arms. ‘Anyone want to share a cab? My rich husband is buying.’
‘Me,’ Sasha said. ‘I’m a broke college girl.’
‘I’ll take you up on that. I’m a broke chef.’ Zoe stood from the table.
‘I’ve got a bike,’ Ryan turned to Megan, ‘and I haven’t been drinking. I’ll take you home, sweetheart.’
Megan instantly shook her head. Her blood was too heated with fantasies of him. Tonight was not the night to be alone with Ryan, let alone on the back of a motorcycle, straddling a hard leather seat as the engine vibrated beneath her. ‘No, that’s OK. I’ll get a ride with Kat.’
‘Mm, no, you two are probably only going to meet up later anyway,’ Kat said. ‘Ryan can give you a ride home.’
If her family wasn’t looking at her expectantly, their tired eyes curious as to why she would refuse, she would have protested more. Megan thought of the picture, of Jersey St Claud. She could not afford her credibility to be in question because of a stupid mistake. St Claud was guilty and she was going to make sure he was put away for a long, long time.
All this because I stepped on a rock some cave dweller carved centuries ago.
‘So long as I’m not keeping you from anything,’ Megan said reluctantly. Slowly she stood.
‘Nothing at all.’ Ryan grinned, revealing the full depth of his boyish charm. ‘I’m all yours.’
‘Wonderful,’ Megan drawled, tossing her glass back to finish her drink. Just wonderful.
Megan whistled, waving her arm as a cab sped by, but the car didn’t stop. The street wasn’t as busy as it had been during the day. A few couples walked, arm in arm, through the heavy spotlights of the streetlamps and into the surrounding shadows to fade away.
Her sisters’ cab had just turned the corner and disappeared from view, leaving her alone with Ryan. Megan watched for another cab, but none came. Frowning, she began to walk along the street.
‘What are you doing?’ Ryan asked. ‘I thought I was taking you home.’
‘Listen, buddy, I might be obligated to go along with this, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to ride on the back of your motorcycle.’ Megan paused, shivering as she imagined how it would feel to have his body pressed to hers, her clit vibrating with the purr of the engine until she climaxed. She glanced at the only motorcycle on the street, parked before the building. Green and orange flames were painted over a deep-purple tank. It was a custom bike, one that clearly took many hours and a lot of money to build. Her voice weaker, but still harsh, she continued, ‘And let you take me home so you can fuck me.’
For the briefest of moments, his expression said, ‘Why not?’ but he quickly hid it under a blank mask. ‘Who says I planned on fucking you tonight? Maybe I’m not in the mood, especially after the way you acted all evening.’
‘The way I acted?’ Megan gave a short laugh. At least he didn’t try to protest desiring her.
‘I felt you kissing me back.’ Ryan stepped up to her until their bodies were close. His words whispered along her flesh, a teasing caress that left her wanting more. ‘And then you sat there, brooding and distant the whole night. I know you want me. I heard you moan my name.’
Had she said his name? Megan couldn’t remember. How could she deny something she couldn’t recall?
‘I felt you squirm against my cock.’ He grabbed her hip, jerking her hard against him.
Awareness struck her as she felt the stiff press of his erection. There was no family, no watching eyes to stop them this time.
<
br /> Ryan rocked, moving his hips in a sinfully delicious rhythm. ‘Maybe it’s you who wants to fuck me.’
Megan tried to deny it, but a weak sound left her speechless. A car drove by, only to leave them in silence. She vaguely noticed a group passing in the distance, their bodies small blurry visions along the edge of her sight. The light from her parents’ building outlined his head as he held her. A guard was inside, perhaps watching them even now on his security monitor.
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Ryan’s lids dipped low over his eyes. His hand slid between their bodies, tugging at her jeans until they were unzipped. Megan’s head rolled back as he thrust his fingers forwards, bypassing her cotton panties to delve along her naked sex. Stunned that he’d made such a bold move, she didn’t think to protest. A finger glided between her wet folds, blessedly pushing along her clit in a hard stroke. Her jeans kept him from touching deeper, but he’d found the centre bud and, for the moment, it was enough. Rubbing it in circles, he groaned, ‘Ah, there’s my answer.’
Megan didn’t think, as she acted on pure instinct. Grabbing his shoulders, she thrust her hips forwards only to be rewarded with a deep gratification. Her mouth wide, she breathed heavily, leaning so that their lips nearly touched. She denied her mouth, instead reaching for his waist. Pushing his sweater out of the way, she unbuttoned his pants, tugging violently at them so they unzipped. It was Ryan’s turn to moan as she grabbed his thick cock. Silk boxers caused her hand to glide as she fondled him.
‘Ah, so what are we going to do about this?’ He looked towards the street to where the motorcycle was parked.
Megan pulled away and his hand seemed reluctant to disentangle itself from her jeans. Grabbing his fly, she turned, leading him by his crotch towards a small alley along the side of the building. A combination of wine and passion made her stumble as her knees weakened. She caught herself, walking fast into the shadowed alcove of brick and cement. The place was unromantic, stale and dank and she couldn’t care less. All she knew was Ryan’s nearness, the longing for his kiss, the smell of his cologne.
Stopping a few feet in, where the streetlights didn’t reach, she let go of him. Determined, she pushed her jeans off her hips. They fell to her ankles, trapped by her boots. Her body was so hot she didn’t notice the evening temperature against her naked skin. Ryan made a weak noise, moving as if he would kiss her. But, Megan had other plans. ‘I’ll tell you what we are going to do about this. I’m going to turn around and you’re going to fuck me. Afterwards, we are never going to mention it again.’
Megan turned, not waiting for an answer. Alcohol was thick in her veins, and, though it would be easy to blame her actions on inebriation, she was too pragmatic to lie to herself. She wanted this moment, whatever it was, however unwise.
She spread her legs as wide as she could while pressing her palms flat against the brick wall. Starved for fulfilment, her pussy was wet and ready. Besides, she couldn’t think of any better position given their circumstances. It wasn’t like she would lie on the dirty cement ground.
Ryan came up behind her, his hand stroking her outer thigh moments before the thick probing tip of his erection met her pussy from behind. The back of his hand brushed next to the intimate curve of her ass, as he moved himself along her folds, gliding up and down as he found the perfect angle for entrance.
Suddenly, he thrust, stretching her from behind, his actions as needy and raw as she felt. The position didn’t allow for deep penetration, but that didn’t stop him from withdrawing and pounding forwards with severe force. All her desires centred on her sex, even as her breasts ached to be touched, her body yearned to be free of clothes. The urgency of her need superseded such concerns and she met his hips, pushing back from the wall almost violently.
Heavy grunts sounded over the alleyway. A car passed on the street, briefly illuminating them with its headlights. Megan reached between her thighs, touching her clit, encouraging her body to find release. The arm holding her back from the wall began to sting and her muscles were tired, but she didn’t care. She needed this too badly. It had been so long and she felt as if she might explode.
Megan gave a soft cry, frustrated and excited as she neared her peak. Ryan was holding both hips, moving in and out at a jackrabbit pace.
‘Oh, oh,’ Megan gasped for air. Finally, she met with sweet release as her orgasm caused her to shake. She worked her hands against the uneven wall, holding herself up as she came. Ryan kept moving, pumping in greedy abandonment until finally he grunted, pulling his cock out at the last minute as he spilled his seed along her inner thigh.
His hands fell from her hips and he stumbled back. Panting heavily, Megan reached for her jeans, weakly pulling them up. Only when she was partially dressed, her jeans zipped but not buttoned, did she say, ‘This never happened.’
Her eyes met Ryan’s. His hands stopped moving on his pants and all pleasure faded from his gaze. Megan stumbled towards the street, digging in her pocket and glad that the cash she’d stuck in it was still there and not lost in the alley. Without looking back, she hailed a cab. It stopped and she hurriedly got inside, barking a command at the driver. Only when it turned the corner did she allow herself to relax.
Sex had left her weak, but that wasn’t why she trembled. How could she have given in to temptation? How could she have had sex with Ryan? Why now? After so long knowing him and denying any attraction to him?
‘You all right, ma’am?’ the cabbie asked.
‘Just drive,’ she growled, not wanting to make small talk.
Moodily, she glared out the window. The cityscape zoomed past, but she didn’t see it. No, her mind was still outside her parents’ apartment building, lost in the terrible deeds of what was possibly the biggest mistake of her life.
Ryan watched Megan leave him, not bothering to chase after her. What would he say to her if he did make her stop? Sated flesh did not necessarily make for a satisfied soul. Her cold words left him feeling empty, as did the emotionless way their bodies had joined in loveless passion.
Why had he given in to his desire? Why couldn’t he have held off, seduced her? Why couldn’t he have made her beg for him? Instead, she said fuck and he jumped to it, obeying like the lovesick fool that he clearly was.
‘Nothing is going as planned,’ he said to himself. ‘Damn it, Ryan, you are an idiot.’
Glancing down, he fastened his jeans. The hard press of metal dug into his hip as he walked and he pulled the motorcycle keys from his pocket. Going to the bike, he debated leaving it where it was – in the safe viewing of the security camera outside Megan’s parents’ building. Then again, maybe a ride would do him some good. He could use a clear head.
He climbed on the motorcycle and leant over to stick the key in. It didn’t fit. With a frown, he turned it over and tried again. There were no other bikes around. Ryan groaned. ‘Ah, come on. I don’t need this. Not tonight.’
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ a man yelled. ‘Get off my fuckin’ bike!’
Ryan flinched, instantly swinging his leg back over the motorcycle so he could stand. He turned just in time to see the angry fist that went with the enraged voice. It slammed into his eye, sending him reeling back on to the hard concrete. His neck snapped, shooting pain down his spine. He didn’t move, his body tense as he waited for the beating to continue. The distant sound of annoying female laughter rang over him, followed by the revving of an engine. A strange relief washed over him as tyres squealed and the motorcycle zoomed down the street.
Holding his head, Ryan groaned, pushing up from the sidewalk. Already, the tender flesh around his eye tightened as if beginning to swell. He ran his hands through his hair, glancing back and forth over the street but there wasn’t another cab within view. Somehow, the blackened eye was much easier to bear than Megan’s hurried departure. Grumbling, he said, ‘A perfect end to a fucked-up day. What the hell was I thinking?’
Chapter Four
‘Hey, Rya – omigod
. . .’ Kat’s words tapered off as she looked at Ryan’s face.
Her hair hung messily around her shoulders and her cheeks were flushed. Since she wore a white lab coat, buttoned all the way down, and was standing barefoot in the long hall leading back to her husband’s office, Ryan could easily guess what she and Dr Richmond had been up to.
Reaching for his cheek, she hesitated. They were too far apart for her to touch him anyway. ‘I can’t believe Megan hit you!’
‘What?’ Ryan automatically lifted his hand to touch the tender skin around his eye. As he’d first suspected, he’d developed a pretty mean bruise.
‘I’m calling her. I guess I knew she would be a little upset, but to beat you up . . .’ Kat frowned. ‘You didn’t hit her back, did you?’
‘You think I could lift a hand to hurt –’
‘You’re right, I’m sorry, you would never hurt Megs.’
‘Kat, no. You have it wrong.’ Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket to toss the motorcycle key in his friend’s direction. She caught it, frowning in confusion. ‘This was a gift from the owner of the motorcycle I tried to ride home last night. Megan took a cab.’
‘Jack hit you?’ Kat’s frown turned into a scowl.
‘I have a feeling it wasn’t your friend’s bike. The key didn’t fit and the owner decked me for trying.’ Ryan gave a short laugh, moving slowly towards her.
Old floorboards creaked beneath his shoes and the musty smell – a combined scent of aged parchment and settled dust – grew stronger.
The DJP Scientific Department of Entomological Research was tucked away between two buildings and nearly impossible to find but for the plaque outside the front door. The small square foyer was empty except for a wooden desk with a borderline antique yellow corded telephone and wooden chair. Kat had decorated the white walls with large photographs of insects and what looked like a close-up of someone’s waxed smarmy moustache. Every time Ryan asked her about the facial hair, she would laugh and change the subject.
Along for the Ride Page 5
