Page 56 of Ryder: Shadows and Desires

I grin, staring at the words on the screen. “As you’ve experienced, it’s not theonlybook like that. There are others.”

“You women and your dirty novels.”

“Hey, guys have the internet, and we have our trashy books,” I nearly whisper. When I face him, I’m close enough to see a scar on his eyebrow. “You take what you can get when you need it.”

He completely takes the bait, a wanton haze brazenly changing his eyes, a slight curve to his lips indicating I just fed the beast. Slowly, and with a slight husk, staring into my eyes, he asks, “So if it’s notFifty Shades, then which one is your go-to? What’s Julie’s theme?”

If it had been three weeks ago, I would have blushed, panicked a little, and maybe even pretended to faint. But it’s like he’s actually asking what I prefer for his own personal notes. I stare into those hooded blue eyes, breathing heavier.

He doesn’t relinquish his gaze, and that’s how I know he’s openly flirting with me as I take in the details of his face.

It’s so tempting that it scares me, like I can finally see that line in the sand, but he’s holding out his hand, inviting me to step over it.

I smile at him, not withholding any desire in my tone as I evasively say, “C’mon, Ryder. A lady never tells. And either way, I’m reading asci-fibook.”

He moves his head back, grinning at me with closed lips, his eyes trailing my face before he glances at my Kindle, nodding toward it. “You know it’s a movie.”

“I like to read the book first. I know a lot of people think that it’s the other way around, but I love seeing the details in my head first.”

“So, you like sci-fi?”

“It’s fun. Why? What do you like? Do you even know how to read?”

“Of course I can read,” he says, feigning offense.

“What do you read, then?”

“I like fantasy, sci-fi, history books, and self-help.”

“What kind of self-help?”

“I ain’t telling. Gives too much away.”

“Ah, yes, ever the mystery.”

“Enigmatic,” he corrects.

I try to suppress it, but I end up laughing through my nose, looking out the window, shaking my head. “You’ve been punched in the head too many times.”

“Got a thick skull.”

“You know, there are studies that indicate MMA fighting can lessen the hippocampus,” I counter, looking back at him.

“Don’t need it.”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, trying to roll my eyes, but once again, my lips curl into a grin. I lean closer to the window as the city comes into view.

“You ever been to New York?” I ask, staring at the tall buildings.

He leans over, his body filling in the dead air behind me. I don’t pull away. If anything, I might’ve even leaned into him.

He replies, “Yeah. To fight in Barclay Center. Visit a friend or two.”

I turn my head. He’s so close that I hear the slightest variations in his voice, only a few inches separating us. I wonder what would happen if everyone on the plane disappeared… His eyes fall to my lips, the heat of his breath mixing with mine when he exhales. He pulls back when something changes in his eyes, like he realizes he needs a cold shower.

Crap, I need one too... I roll my head and stare out the window, as, of course, I think about him getting in that cold shower with me...

We land, and Ryder gets out of his seat, standing so I can go in front of him. “Ladies first.”