Stripped Down

by Erin McCarthy

  Honestly, she felt very dramatic about the whole thing.

  What a complete load of bullshit that for ten years she had condemned herself to riding a golf cart when she could have been in a sports car.

  Mind blown.

  “Thank you,” she said, earnestly. “You’ve, uh, opened my eyes.”

  He pulled a face that she couldn’t interpret. She wasn’t sure if he was amused or if he was going to say something or not. Instead he kissed her, a slow, easy kiss, while he teased at her nipples with the pad of his thumb.

  “Touch my cock, Sloane,” he murmured.

  He removed the condom and set it on the nightstand.

  Touch it. Sure. She could do that. Reaching down, she lightly brushed her fingers over the smooth skin of his cock. He was only partially erect, but even so, he was impressive. Not that she’d been around a lot of naked men, but she had not been inflating his ego when she’d said he had a huge dick. It really had filled her and stretched her and damn, had it felt good.

  She stroked him, squeezing the base of his shaft as she remembered what it had felt like inside her. His breathing changed, grew deeper. Her breathing changed, grew shallow.

  “Yeah, baby,” he murmured, his green eyes slumberous, half-closed. “Squeeze it hard. Make that cock big for you.”

  It was already growing, hardening. She used her other hand to explore his balls, tugging at the soft skin, learning his body. The harder she squeezed his cock, the more he seemed to like it. He wanted it rough, which she found hot. He was fully hard now and she felt a sense of accomplishment. She’d done that.

  Rick pulled her leg over his so that it rested on his thigh. He reached behind with an impressive dexterity and grabbed a condom. Her heat was tantalizingly close to his cock in this position and it took everything inside her to stay put and not rock onto the tip. But she hadn’t entirely lost her mind. He needed the condom on first.

  She knew now to anticipate the fullness of him pushing inside her. She was still wet and ready for him and he sank into her easily. This time instead of shock, she sighed in pure satisfaction.

  “You like that, beautiful?” he asked, voice low and rumbling.

  Sloane stared at Rick, suddenly overcome with emotion. This was intimate. This was locking eyes with a man she’d only known as a boy, yet feeling safe with him. Their bodies were entwined as they lay on their sides, his cock sliding in and out of her with a slow, slick rhythm. His hand gripped her hip, holding her in place as he rocked into her. Her bedroom was dark and small and there was nothing but her and Rick, surrounded by moving boxes.

  A sensual cocoon of skin and pleasure. Her breasts brushed against him, the friction teasing her nipples into tight peaks. She felt relaxed, open, stimulated in an easy, deep way. Her orgasm built slowly, swelling. There was a pause, then she crashed, gripping his arm and moaning softly. “Rick…” she said, and she wasn’t sure why.

  His nostrils flared, like her orgasm turned him on even more. “Yes, Sloane?”

  Her eyes drifted shut. She couldn’t take the intensity of his gaze. “I’m coming,” she said, which was probably obvious but she felt she needed to let him know. He deserved all the credit for all of this.

  Rick laughed softly. “Good. Ride it, baby. Enjoy it.”

  When she finally relaxed, fully satisfied, he slid his palm around to her ass and pumped her hard against him, upping the rhythm. Then he came with a sharp exhalation of air and her name.

  “Damn.” He leaned his forehead against hers and gave her a soft kiss.

  Sloane had to look away. It was almost too much. Too intimate.

  She felt the weight of his arm on her hip, and it felt too heavy. She rolled onto her back, breathing hard. “I need some water.”

  “I’ll get you some in a second. Or maybe two seconds.” Rick’s phone started ringing, a jarring ringtone in the dark cozy room. “Fuck, who is calling me?”

  He grappled around the night stand for his phone and then dropped it onto her mattress between them.

  Sloane could see the image that popped up on Rick’s phone screen was that of a young blonde. She couldn’t be more than twenty. Instead of her given name he had her in his phone as “Brat.” Except Sloane knew exactly who she was—she was the woman who had rented her the apartment. Her name was Rachel and she had been nice. Young, but nice.

  Rick sighed. “I should answer this. She wouldn’t be calling at this time of night unless it was important.”

  “Sure,” Sloane said and she heard the chilliness in her own voice. Who the hell was Rachel? It didn’t matter. Or it shouldn’t matter. But it still annoyed her. One night, that’s all she wanted and she didn’t really want the real world to intrude in on that.

  Apparently, Rick didn’t care if she found out who Rachel was because he answered the phone on speaker, leaving it on the nightstand like he was too tired to hold it. “Yeah?” he demanded. “What do you need?”

  “It’s River. She’s fussing and wants to come home. You know I can’t deal with her like you can.”

  Sloane stiffened. And who was River?

  “She’s just pushing you, Rach. Testing boundaries. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not coming to get her. I’m not even home and she needs to understand a plan is a plan and we’re not all dropping everything in the middle of the night when she changes her mind.”

  If Rick had a daughter he and everyone else had failed to mention, Sloane wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was going to assume if Rachel was the mother they weren’t together since they clearly didn’t live together.

  Sloane rolled onto her side so she could listen better. She murmured, “If you have to go, it’s okay, I understand.”

  “No, it’s fine,” he told her in full volume.

  “What’s fine?” Rachel said.

  “Nothing, I was talking to—”

  Sloane waved her hands desperately. She didn’t want anyone to find out she’d had sex with Rick because then the whole town would know and then Sullivan would go have a reason to take out his anger on someone other than Death, irrational or not, and she did not want to deal with that.

  “You’re with who?” Rachel asked, sounding suspicious.

  “A friend.”

  “Geez. Can you keep it in your pants for one night?” Rachel asked. “Your body count is gross.”

  Sloane wrinkled her nose. Wow. She was part of his “body count.” What a fabulous way to think of it. Not.

  “Hey, mind your own business. And it’s three in the morning, I’m not giving in to River. Deal with it.”

  “I hate you,” Rachel said. “I’m not going to get any sleep tonight because you need to prove you’re not Little Dickie anymore.”

  “Hey. Watch it.”

  “Whatever.”

  Rick glanced over at the screen. “She hung up on me.” He gave a sleepy yawn and reached for her, pulling her onto his chest.

  Sloane didn’t come easily, resisting.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Is River your daughter?” she asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t necessarily mind if he had a child but she would have liked a head’s up. Not that it mattered. They weren’t dating. It really didn’t matter at all. Except that it bothered her he hadn’t mentioned it and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

  “Nope. River is my nine-year-old sister. I have guardianship of her and she lives with me.” He gave her a long look. “I guess you really haven’t kept tabs on anyone from Beaver Bend.”

  That made her cheeks flush. “Oh. No, I had no idea you even had a little sister.” She had obviously been born after Sloane had left for college. “Is your dad okay?” If his father had passed away and she didn’t know that she was going to feel like a megabitch. To be honest, she didn’t remember Rick ever mentioning his mom back when they were kids.

  “My dad is okay in the sense that he is alive and healthy and living on his terms. But he’s a hoarder and the house is unsafe for a kid. I’ve had River si
nce she was three because Child Protective Services wanted to put her in foster care.” Rick had stopped trying to pull her over to him. He looked suddenly… aloof.

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “That’s really impressive of you. You’re a good man.”

  “Thanks.” Nothing else. He didn’t elaborate and she wasn’t sure what would be appropriate and what would come off as prying. “River doesn’t respect Rachel’s authority as much as she should even though she does love spending time with her.”

  But then because she had to know she asked, “And who is Rachel? Besides the leasing agent for this building?”

  Rick snorted and rolled his eyes. “Wow. You really weren’t paying any attention even when you did live here. Rachel is my other sister. She’s eight years younger than me.”

  Oh, geez. Sloane wracked her brains trying to do the math and remember if she had ever been aware of Rick having siblings. “She doesn’t look like you,” she said, because she had no idea what else to say. Did she apologize for being self-absorbed at sixteen? She wasn’t even sure if that was entirely fair. Dickie hadn’t been her friend; he’d been Sullivan’s.

  “We have different mothers. As does River, if you’re wondering.” Rick propped himself up on his elbow. “It’s a Ryder trait, apparently. We don’t like to settle down.”

  It felt like an intentional warning.

  Sloane was annoyed.

  And she wasn’t exactly sure why. “I guess you’d better run away from me then. O’Tooles may not like to talk about our emotions but we’re the opposite in terms of settling down. We hold on even when we shouldn’t.” Like her with Tom. Like her father and the fact that he had never dated after her mother left. Like Sullivan, still raging with anger over Kendra’s death, his one and only.

  But Rick look unperturbed. “You’re not going to attach to me.”

  Sloane was flustered. Now she really didn’t know what to say. “Of course I won’t.” She meant it lightly but it sounded totally bitchy.

  Rick just laughed. “Then again. You do seem to like my cock a lot.”

  “Haha.” Sloane rolled her eyes. She felt thrown off-balance and she didn’t like the feeling. “You promised me this wouldn’t get awkward and it suddenly feels exactly that.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Really? I was just screwing around, Sloane. Should I leave? I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

  “I think you should.” She needed sleep. She needed his broad chest away from her. She needed to stop feeling guilty for things she had and hadn’t known or done back when she was in high school.

  He didn’t say a word. He just sat up and swung his legs over the bed. “Okay then. I can do that.” He stood up, gave a stretch, and bent over to scoop up his clothes.

  Sloane got an amazing view of his tight ass and she sat up too. She wasn’t even sure if she was doing the right thing but she did know she did not want to come across as petulant so she stood up and wrapped herself in the sheet. “I’ll see you out.” Suddenly she sounded like her divorce lawyer’s secretary.

  “You don’t have to do that. You look very cozy and cute in bed right now.” Rick grabbed his wallet and phone off her nightstand.

  “Let me be a decent hostess at least.” If she had learned anything in a decade as a doctor’s wife, it was social graces. Besides she didn’t want him leaving while she lay in bed feeling so damn vulnerable. She hated vulnerable.

  Rick didn’t say anything other than “Okay then.” He was very agreeable, which confused her. He walked down the hall, still naked, and maneuvered around all her boxes. He added his shoes to the pile in his hand and reached for her front door.

  “What are you doing?” she squawked. “You’re naked!”

  “I’m covering my dick, so it’s all good.”

  He technically was with the bundle of items in his hands but his ass was still bare and he was still, you know. Naked.

  “Just get dressed!” Was he crazy?

  “It’s all good.” Rick shot her a grin. He kissed her cheek. “Happy Birthday, Sloane.”

  “Thanks.” She stood in her open doorway, scandalized as he left completely naked.

  Until he took three steps across the hall and opened the door catty-corner from hers. “Good night,” he said, stepping into the apartment.

  “You live there?” she asked, dumbly.

  “Oh, yeah. Didn’t I mention that? I own the whole building.” He gave her a wink and lowered his bundle.

  The last thing she saw was him and his cock both saluting her before he closed the door.

  Great. Just flipping great.

  So much for one night of freestyle fun with zero regrets and no complications.

  Rick lived five feet away and was her landlord.

  And he thought she didn’t ask enough questions? Maybe he didn’t offer enough information.

  She closed her door and thought about his tongue sliding over her clit while she cried out in pure ecstasy. He had definitely used his tongue for a higher purpose than small talk. She really couldn’t have any complaints.

  Whether she could look him in the eye ever again was a whole different story.

  She stomped off to bed, hoping to close her eyes on by far the weirdest yet most exciting birthday she’d ever had.

  Gone to a strip show? Check.

  Had sex with a younger man? Check.

  Complicated the crap out of her life? Most definitely check.

  Seven

  Sloane woke up naked, momentarily disoriented. She wasn’t used to her new apartment with its boxy rooms and low ceilings. She really needed to unpack the rest of her stuff but not today because today was her first day at her first job in ten years. She was going to learn how to be a dog groomer, which was a temporary solution to both her financial problems and her missing her dog and animals in general. She loved anything furry on four legs.

  Unfortunately, this was not the day she really wanted to be starting a new adventure. She had a slight headache from the tequila and a burning desire to poke around on social media and stalk the hell out of Rick.

  Rick.

  Damn, she felt her nipples tighten and her inner thighs grow warm as she remembered everything he had done to her. The man had some serious skill and she wanted to spend the entire day torturing herself with memories of it while eating ice cream and seeing if she could figure out how many other woman he’d slept with.

  That was how she wanted to spend her Sunday.

  Instead she was going to go downstairs and learn how to wash a dog.

  “Let’s do this,” she told herself out loud, climbing out of bed for coffee. “You’ve got this.”

  She really didn’t but it was a lie she was willing to tell herself.

  There really wasn’t much choice but to put one foot in front of the other and rebuild her life. Only she couldn’t find the coffeepot in her disaster of a kitchen, which seemed like an ominous sign. She had boxes everywhere and very little cabinet and counter space. After resorting to licking dried grounds and chasing it with water in the hopes it would help her head, she stumbled down the hall to take a shower, which didn’t help either.

  Fortunately, the groomer’s shop was right downstairs on the street level floor of the apartment building. So after dressing in jeans and a T-shirt Sloane pulled on sneakers and opened the door to her apartment. There were flowers on the floor with a note. Not flowers from a florist, tidy and crisp and beautiful. But a somewhat wilted bunch of purple wildflowers she couldn’t identify. Gardening had never been her thing.

  Bending over to pick them up made her head feel like all its contents were pushing against a brick wall with a ten-ton force. Afraid it all might explode, she stood back up quickly. Too quickly. She saw spots and went dizzy. Her stomach churned. “Oh, dang,” she murmured out loud.

  It had been a long time since she’d been hungover and she remembered now why it sucked.

  Holding onto her doorframe she plucked the note out with trembling fingers. The
slight shake was either from lack of coffee, lack of sleep, or post-drinking dehydration. Or all of the above. Either way it was a visible reminder she was a mess.

  The note said, 30 looks good on you. Thanks for a fun night. Rick.

  It was sweet. Yet she had no clue what that meant. Was it customary to leave a floral offering after a hookup? She couldn’t even ask her friends because she wasn’t sure she wanted any of them to know about her and Rick and their naked tango. She glanced over at his apartment door. Behind that door he was probably sleeping. Naked. He was very comfortable naked, which she did appreciate.

  How had she not known Rachel was his sister?

  She was a self-absorbed idiot. If she had known, she might not have wanted this apartment.

  But then again, the price was right and it was very convenient to the groomer’s. What difference did it make if Rick lived across the hall?

  Other than it was weird he was her landlord. And probably would be bringing a parade of women home with him since according to Rachel his “body count was gross.” Did that matter? It shouldn’t. She’d been warned. But it was one thing to know it in theory but another to see it happening. God, she hoped the walls were as thick as the Great Wall of China. She didn’t need to hear any wallbanging.

  After dropping the flowers back in her kitchen, she crept down the steps like a cat burglar, not wanting any of them to creak and a naked Rick to pop out of his apartment.

  She wondered who the other two neighbors were and if they were the kind to read the card on a bouquet of flowers left on someone’s doorstep.

  When she got downstairs she winced at the bright morning sun and quickly shielded her eyes before taking the five steps down the sidewalk to Paws and Effect. Winnie Schwartz, the owner of the pet salon, and younger than Sloane, not that she was counting, was leaning against the reception desk and swearing softly at the coffeemaker.

  “Why isn’t this damn thing working?” she asked.