Page 38 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

RYDER

Why couldn’t I shake what happened at Alex’s house?

His enraged screams to leave his house played on repeat in my head while I saw nothing but the fury in his gaze, even with my eyes closed.

Fatigue tugged at me as I stood at my kitchen island, head bowed and palms flat against the cool surface.

I needed a shower but couldn’t muster the energy for the task.

Instead, as soon as I’d returned home, I shed my clothes in favor of a pair of soft, flannel pajama pants, brushed my teeth, and washed my face.

But I couldn’t climb into bed. My limbs wouldn’t obey. History told me I’d stare at the ceiling until dawn, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of lying there wide awake for the next few hours, obsessing.

So I’d opted to obsess standing up in the kitchen instead.

Made sense.

Why did it grate on me so much? Alex hating me wasn’t anything new. It was our status quo. So why did his words and tone put a sick feeling I couldn’t escape in the pit of my stomach? Why did they feel as though they’d invaded me on a cellular level, throwing off my entire world?

A soft knock at my door had me lifting my head. Who the hell would be darkening my doorstep at this hour?

Shit. My spine straightened. It could be my sister.

Barefoot, I jogged to the door. Despite the late hour, I had the presence of mind to check the peephole before yanking the door open to an unknown visitor. I peered into the hallway, only to freeze, not even daring to breathe.

Alex stood at my door with a defeated posture. He stared at his feet. Was he there to yell at me some more? To berate me for entering his home uninvited?

I frowned as I took in his sweatshirt and sweatpants—the same outfit he’d worn home from the club, only without a winter jacket. And how the hell had he gotten to my house without a car? Did he pay for an Uber?

Curiosity won out over common sense. I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

His head came up, gaze meeting mine.

“Ryder…” Remorse bled from him in waves so strong he didn’t need to say anything else. The sadness and guilt in his gaze were more than enough apology for me. In the thirty minutes since I left him, he seemed to have deflated. Dark smudges beneath each eye put a pinch in my chest.

He needed sleep.

And he probably needed food.

Who cared for him while he was busy meeting his family’s needs?

And going to school.

And working.

Christ, just thinking about his mountain of responsibilities had me exhausted. How did he do it every day? And why did the thought of being the one he turned to have my cock plumping?

Rather than invite him in, I grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him flush against me. We’d yet to kiss, and the move put his lips in line with mine with mere inches separating us.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. His breath held a hint of expensive tequila, the only shot I’d seen him take all night, hours ago.

He shook his head. “No,” he whispered back. “It’s not. I was awful to you. I was a dick. And after you help—”

I rolled my hips into his, leaving my rapidly stiffening cock nestled against his, making him gasp and his eyes flare.

“Well…” I whispered, barely a breath away from his lips. “I guess it’s a good thing I like dick so much.”

He trembled. His hands landed on my sides, holding me against him. “Kiss me, Ryder.”

I groaned. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to know what his mouth tasted like. I’d fantasized about it nearly every time we fucked around recently.

With his hoodie still fisted in my hand, I hauled him to me, crashing our mouths together. The instant his tequila-laced flavor hit my tongue, I was a goner. His taste, sweet with notes of caramel and spice, beat any thousand-dollar liquor hands down.

A sliver of my brain registered the door slamming shut, so I shoved him back against it for some leverage. He groaned as he opened his mouth and let me delve my tongue inside.

Alex let me hold him against the door, but he did not play a submissive role. He sampled me with the same enthusiasm as I attacked him. He sucked on my tongue and lips, nipped then soothed, and never let me come up for air. I fed off his groans and shared my own as he invaded all my senses.

As we made out, I rubbed my entire body against him like a needy feline. His soft sweatshirt tickled my nipples while his hands roamed over my bare back, blazing a fire path everywhere they touched.

My cock ached, making a mess inside my flannel pants.

Grinding against him wasn’t enough. I needed a hand or mouth to give me relief before the need drove me insane, but I couldn’t fathom separating our lips long enough to ask for it.

Nor could I unwind my hands from where they’d settled in his hair, holding his head for my attack.

I grew dizzy—whether need, lack of oxygen, or pure intoxication on Alex didn’t matter. I’d have happily never inhaled again if it meant more time kissing this man.

Eventually, physiology won out, and we had no choice but to come up for air. Alex broke away, quickly kissing my lips a final time before resting our foreheads together. We panted, sharing the air between us.

“Christ, Ryder,” he said between breaths. “That was…”

Wild? Sexy? Explosive?

“Yeah,” I managed. “Safe to say you’re completely forgiven.”

Our weak chuckles mingled in the air between us. We kissed again, quickly and desperately.

Then one more for good measure.

I loved the way his lips felt against mine—soft but confident and unyielding.

His hands left my back as he straightened. I barely had time to mourn the loss of his touch before he captured my chin in his large hand, holding me a fraction of an inch away from those incredible lips. “Take me to bed, Ryder.”

I stilled with my heart thumping a heavy rhythm against my ribcage. “Yeah?”

He nodded. His dark eyes were on fire with the same need I felt deep in my core. A need that could only be satiated by one thing.

Us together—in my bed.

“You wanna fuck, Alex? Is that it?” I asked, grinding our covered dicks together.

“Yes,” he said with a gasp. He rocked into me, making me dizzy.

I moved my mouth to his ear, tracing the shell with my tongue. Every place I tasted on this man made me crave him more. The way he shivered against me while asking for entry to my bed would fuel my fantasies for weeks. “You wanna fuck me?”

He stilled, and I drew back to look in his swirling eyes. “No,” he answered. “Not tonight.”

What? I frowned. His words and touch gave the impression he was as into this as I was. Had I misread the situation?

Then it dawned on me, and my lips curled.

The need in his gaze wasn’t to take control of my ass tonight but to give up his own.

I couldn’t have stopped the self-satisfied smirk for all the riches in the world.

“You wanna be fucked, Alex? Is that it?” I asked with a husky voice I’d never heard from my mouth.

It couldn’t be helped. Though I was vers, I tended to bottom more often than I topped.

Much more often. When I’d fantasized about sleeping with Alex, it always included his dick deep in my ass, but the thought of burying into his tight hole for our first time had me frantic with desire.

He nodded. “Yes.” The word came out as a hoarse rasp.

Hungry.

“Fuck.” I pressed the heel of my palm over my dick, biting my lip to keep from coming by his words alone. “Let’s go.” I yanked him along, practically dragging him to my bedroom like a caveman bringing his conquest back to his lair.

“A little eager?” Alex asked with a chuckle as he stumbled into me.

His dick brushed against my ass cheek, eliciting a low groan from deep in my gut. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah. I fucking do.” We staggered through my door into my bedroom, where I released him, but not before another few minutes of wild kisses and groping.

“Christ,” I said as I forced myself to release him. “Get your fucking clothes off.” Another night, we could take our time and peel each other naked, layer by layer. Tonight, I needed skin-to-skin contact as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, Alex seemed to be on the same page.

We tore at our clothing, tossing fabric in every direction.

Since I wore nothing but flannel pants and briefs, I stripped down faster than he did.

Once naked, I watched as he rid himself of his boots, socks, and jeans.

The second he kicked his boxer briefs off his foot, we flew toward each other like two opposite magnetic poles.

“Fuck yes,” I said as our naked bodies lined up from our heads to the tips of our toes. Every inch of the warm, smooth skin that taunted me every night we worked was finally mine to touch, lick, and enjoy.

“God, you feel good.” He mouthed at my pulse point while we ground our dicks together.

“This ass is what feels good,” I said against his hungry lips as I grabbed a cheek in each hand. The firm flesh overfilled my palms. I squeezed and molded his ass like I was a master sculptor with fresh clay.

“I like your hands on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I fucking love it.”

“Mmm.” I crept my fingers inward toward his crease, then spread his ass, massaging as I exposed him.

He bucked in my arms, then dropped his forehead to my shoulder.

“It’s been a while,” he said, clinging to my sides. “A long while. I don’t bottom often. I’ll need some solid prep.”

“My pleasure.” And it would be. I couldn’t wait to work him open on my fingers to prepare him to take my dick. I shouldn’t be so turned on by the fact no one had been inside him for a long time, but I fucking loved it.

Unless…

“Wait,” I said as an unfamiliar bout of uncertainty crawled up my spine. I didn’t release him, but I stilled my hands on his ass. “You’re not just doing this because you feel bad about earlier, right? Because—”