Page 24 of No Rhyme or Roughing (The Golden Guardians Hockey Hearts #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

RYDER

The house was quiet when I got back to Alameda.

I’d left Teddy at my brother’s place after everything blew up.

They were finishing the wine. His parents left soon after Sydney, and my mom stayed only long enough to clean up.

Then, Sam and Frankie grabbed armfuls of bottles and headed for the living room. But I hadn’t wanted to stay.

Not when I thought about Sydney alone, upset. Not when I finally saw for myself what her life had been like since I left for college all those years ago. Lonely. That was the best word for it. And small. Her mother had tried to shrink her daughter, to make her as little as she felt .

It wasn’t okay.

Sydney might be mad at me for everything I’d said, for talking to her parents like that, but I didn’t regret it. Not for a moment.

I walked through the dark house toward the sound of Pink blaring through the speakers.

Up the stairs, without turning on the lights, I entered into the hallway where a glow peeked out from under a closed doorway.

My doorway. I still didn’t know how long she planned to stay before her next job, but she could have my room forever if she wanted—if she just didn’t leave.

I knocked.

“Teddy, if that’s you, go away,” came a muffled voice.

“And if it’s not?” I asked, resting a hand on the doorknob.

“I don’t have an extra fork.”

That made no sense, but I took it as an invitation and opened the door.

Sydney sat cross-legged on the bed in black leggings and a giant Guardians sweatshirt that hung off one bare shoulder. No bra. Fuck me.

She lowered a fork from her mouth, and my eyes tracked the movement to the half-eaten double-layer pumpkin pie in her lap.

I gasped in mock horror. “You know they’re looking for that at Sullivan’s right now, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “They’ll survive.”

There was a smear of pumpkin on her cheek and in a stray lock of hair that had broken free of her hasty braid.

I leaned in the doorway, crossing one ankle over the other as I watched her. She looked… sad. But in an oddly ac cepting way, like this was just who she was—the girl who spent Thanksgiving eating an entire pie in bed.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, and I worried she’d start crying. She didn’t. Instead, when she looked at me, there was determination in her gaze. She held up the fork and a piece of crust broke off into her lap. It was oddly charming.

“Bite?” she asked quietly.

There was no leaving her now. I stalked toward the bed, leaned over it, and wrapped my lips around the fork. I didn’t even taste the pie as I watched her swallow thickly, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I won’t apologize for all this.” She pointed to the pie. “I earned it.”

“You did.”

She gestured to the spot beside her on the bed. It wasn’t a good idea, but I didn’t care. Not when she needed me. Climbing up beside her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

Relaxing into me, she sighed. “I’m sorry about them.”

“About your parents?” I turned my entire body to face her. “Why the fuck would you be sorry?”

“They ruin things.”

“And that’s your fault how?”

She stuck the fork in my mouth again, and this time I tasted how good Rowan’s pie really was. I moaned.

She licked her lips.

I stared.

Her throat cleared. “I should’ve stayed quieter. I’m always disappointing them, and it?— ”

“No. Just fucking no.”

She flinched at my tone, so I reached for her hand.

“Sydney, I need you to hear me. Their issues are because of them , not because of you. You’re?—”

“Too much? I know.”

“You’re honest, sure. But in a good way. The words that come out of your mouth shock me sometimes, amuse me others. I never, ever want to stop hearing them. I wasn’t lying when I told them you matter.”

“I don’t?—”

“You matter to me.”

Her gaze snapped to mine, and she dropped the fork into the pie. “I… Ryder…” She shook her head. “You’ll tire of me if I stay too long. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to?—”

“Stay.”

“What?”

“I don’t care if every crumb from this pie ends up in my bed?—”

“My bed.”

“—I want you here. At my side. Teaching me to dance. You make me brave, Sydney. This is probably the wrong time to admit this, but I want to?—”

“Kiss me.”

That stole the words from my lips. “You’re hurting. I’d never take advantage of that.”

Even though I wanted to.

Slowly, Sydney slid from the bed and set the pie on the bedside table. I figured that was the end of the conversation as she walked to the door. Instead of leaving, she shut it, flipping the lock.

When she reached my side, she whispered, “You make me brave too. That’s why I’m going to kiss you right now. Because I want to. Because I’m being brave.”

I should’ve stopped her, told her this was wrong. I was older. She was my best friend’s sister. Yet, none of those reasons seemed to matter as her lips brushed mine once before pulling away. I missed them instantly.

She stayed inches away, her eyes searching mine.

And I decided to be brave too. Reaching out, I hooked one arm around her back and pulled her onto the bed, onto me. Her front to mine, her breaths echoing mine. She lay on me, waiting.

With a sigh of relief, I finally kissed her. My lips found hers, my tongue coaxing them open. She relaxed into me, her hands roaming up into my hair, tugging and forcing desire to zip right through me.

My hands skimmed up her sides, over her shoulders, until they reached her cheeks. Her skin was soft, warm. And I needed more of it. I needed her.

Her hips ground down onto mine, and it was all I could do to hold it together, to not take this too fast.

Sydney wasn’t a virgin, but no guy had ever given her an orgasm before, so she might as well have been.

I decided right then I wouldn’t sleep with her tonight. That wasn’t what she needed after everything that had happened. This was about her.

She grasped at my chest, tugging on my shirt. I let her slide it up and broke our kiss just long enough to yank it over my head. She quickly discarded her sweatshirt, her breasts pressing into my skin. I palmed one and then the other, still devouring her mouth, still tasting every sigh, every moan.

Her tongue brushed along mine tentatively, and I sucked on it.

I wanted to own her, for her to own me. She wasn’t flat stomached.

There were curves upon curves to explore, to trace with the tips of my fingers.

I broke our kiss, moving down. Before taking one of her perfect breasts in my mouth, I looked up at her. “Is this okay?”

She nodded.

I rolled us so she was beneath me and sucked, licked, devoured. My tongue ran over the curve of her breast to the soft skin beneath. It was slightly damp with sweat, and she went from sweet to salty.

“Ry,” she sighed.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment you came back into my life,” I admitted, my voice vibrating against her skin.

“Then, why the fuck did it take us so long?” I loved it when she cursed, when her sweet mouth hinted at just a bit of filth.

“Because you’re off-limits.”

She arched as I drew circles on her stomach. “Forbidden,” she breathed.

“What we’re doing is wrong.”

“The worst.” She looked down at me. “Don’t stop.”

I rested my chin on her belly and met her gaze. “Do you remember the secret you told me?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she held her breath.

“I’d really like to be the first.”

“No, Ryder, you don’t have to…”

“I want to.”

“Really?” She didn’t look like she believed me. “Isn’t it kind of gross?”

I smiled up at her, one hand dipping below the waistband of her leggings, finding her warmth. She was wet for me.

“No, Sydney. It’s not gross. No part of you is gross, and I hate that anyone told you that. I really want to taste you. Please let me.”

It took her a moment, her head tilting back as my finger found her center. “Okay.”

“Don’t say it just to make me happy. Okay isn’t an enthusiastic yes. I’m going to need you to say it, Syd.”

She moaned as I circled her. “Fuck, Ry. Do it. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please put your mouth on me. I’d really like an orgasm right now.”

I smiled, pressing a kiss to her skin. She was just perfect. Honest and lush and perfect.

When I pulled my hand away from her, she groaned in protest.

“Patience, honey.” I pulled down her leggings. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and I got hard at the sight. Once I’d freed her legs, I kneeled between them. She was trimmed, but still wild, and I couldn’t fucking wait.

“I’ll stop if you tell me to, Syd. But I hope you don’t. When it gets too intense, just pull on my hair. You want me to finish, though, I promise.”

With a nod from her, I lowered my face, inhaling her, testing her with the tip of my tongue. Her hips bucked, and I held them down as I parted her, found where I wanted to be.

She tasted like honey and woman. Like a fucking goddess .

It didn’t take long for her to moan my name, for her hips to shoot up, for me to become the first man to ever make her explode from the inside out. Her fingers ripped through my hair; my name tore across her lips.

The sound was my undoing. I loved it. I loved her.

Shit. I was in love with Sydney Valentine.