Page 49 of Ryder: Shadows and Desires

I truly fucked this one up.

J U L I E

* * *

I lie in bed, wishing I had my vibrator.

As much as I try to ignore my obligations to Ryder, I can’t stop thinking about him in every way that’s wrong. I want that muscled mass to have his way with me. My body’s quick rise to needing some kind of relief reminds me I haven’t tended to myself in “that” way in a while.

It doesn’t take long for me to do what’s needed, rubbing my clit, trying not to think about anyone in particular.

But nothing makes me excited to come.

Except for when a thought slithers in, one of Ryder’s hands on my hips, balls deep, glaring at me with that fiery look of his, pinning me underneath his body, his hands gripping the back of my thighs…

Well, the climax rises almost instantly, my heart fluttering as a wave of ecstasy washes through my stomach.

I lie there, wondering how my life ended up with me masturbating in Andrew’s spare bedroom.

Panting with a racing heart, I know I can’t live here for much longer. Andrew said I could stay with no questions until New York. Afterward, he won’t kick me out, but Ryder needs complete concentration.

Yeah, no problem. I’m clearly only here to support him in a completely professional manner, Andrew.

I groan out, “Fuck me.”

Staring at the empty spot next to me, there’s a deep yearning to have it filled. Self-pleasure certainly takes an edge off, but it doesn’t replace the intimacy I crave. And Tinder isn’t my jam. I tried it once but found it exhausting.

I sigh, needing to wash my hands.

Putting on my night pants and shirt, I enter the carpeted hall, only to see the bathroom light on with the door open. As I edge closer, I hear the water running.

“Andrew?”

“He’s still shit-faced,” Ryder answers, drying his hands as he’s clearly just washed his own. That smooth, deep voice of his pulls me closer, like he’s catnip and I’m a feline in withdrawal. “I just checked on him.”

I cross my arms to cover my hardened nipples. “That was nice of you.”

He seems to want to glance down once he sees me, but manages to keep his gaze mostly on my face. “Figured you’d rather have me check on him than you.”

I roll my eyes and partially smile. “Yeah, he’d probably just be pissed if I tried to help him.”

He takes a step out of the bathroom, and we awkwardly shimmy past each other. I catch a whiff of his damn deodorant as he passes by.

Ryder says, “Either way, uh, sorry for the handsy bit earlier.”

Taking a step into the bathroom, I reply, “Oh, you’re fine. I know you were just reaching back. Thanks for being ready to fight.”

“Feel almost sorry for the fucker that tries to rob the house I live in before I get a chance to really punch someone.”

I grin, washing my hands, lathering on the soap. “Should have paid for you to escort me around at night on my old street. Would have saved a lot of hassle.”

“All I heard is that you should have paid me to be your escort,” he counters, leaning against the doorframe.

I shake my head, biting my lip, and turn off the sink with soaking hands. I fling water in his face with a smile on mine. He grabs my wrist with playful eyes, his gripstrong, andoh, that ignites something back in my groin.

“That’s daring,” he warns with a husky tone, holding my wrist.

“Whatever,” I reply, unable to think of a clever response as I stare into his clear, blue eyes. Everything about him is so rough and powerful, but those eyes can really soften when he lets his walls down. And I like the way his scruff looks when this close to him.