Page 25 of The Last Person (Baker Girls #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

brIAN

Ryan drops his stuff, walks directly to me, and throws himself into my arms.

It hits me all over again. He’s mine. I’m his safe place. The last two-and-a-half years of friendship have built this—an immovable, unshakable foundation for a beautifully profound relationship.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

“It’s only been an hour and a half,” I say, though I make no move to let him go.

“It felt like longer. Not being able to touch you when I needed your comfort made today feel agonizingly long.”

“You’ve got me now,” I whisper. “And always.”

He lifts his head, his grip on me loosening. “Were you planning this?”

“I had two options—go out or stay in—but, yes, I was planning this. Whether it’s in public or the quiet of our space, we deserve a first date that celebrates us.”

“I love you.”

His rushed, forceful words knock the wind out of me. Like when he told me he wanted me, I can’t move for a second. My body goes slack and it’s hard to breathe.

“You don’t have to say it back, but I couldn’t—”

I rest my hand on the side of his neck and look into his eyes. “If you think I don’t feel the same…” I shake my head, then slant my mouth over his.

He kisses me back, a rough moan rumbling in his throat.

I break our kiss slowly, but he tries to stop me, his tongue chasing after mine as I pull away.

Resting my head against his, I run my hands down his back, staring into his rich brown eyes. “I love you too. I’ve spent the better part of the last year wishing you’d feel the same but never quite believing it could happen.”

“Of course it happened. No one has ever loved me like you do. It was impossible not to fall for you in return. I’m going to love you more than anyone else ever has or ever could.”

We kiss again, and my soul aches with need, my body thrumming with desire, but I’m determined to make it through our date first. Again, breaking apart is slow and reluctant, but we do it, and I lead Ryan over to the coffee table.

“One rule. No talking about what happened today. Not yet. I want to focus on us first.”

He kisses my neck, sending chills through me. “I can do that.”

He opens the wine while I dish up some food, and I see a glimpse of what our future could look like. What the offseason could hold. Long weekends spent enjoying good food and each other’s company. Traveling. Lying in a sun-soaked bedroom, lost in our love. Love.

How did I possibly get this lucky? That the man I fell for fell in love with me too?

Ryan hands me a glass of white wine, then touches his glass to mine. “To us.”

“To us,” I echo, my heart content and filled with love.

Ryan holds out a forkful of the chocolate tart I got us for dessert, and the sensual act of him feeding me makes warmth blossom in my stomach.

“Tell me the truth. How long have you loved me? I know I’m irresistible, so I’ll understand if you fell for me the moment you first saw me.” His smile is bright and mischievous, making his eyes crinkle at the edges.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I did not fall for you the moment I met you. I wanted nothing to do with you.”

He dramatically puts a hand to his chest. “Nothing to do with me?”

I sigh and hold up my hand before he can get caught up talking about how amazing he is.

“You know who I am. Quiet and calm is my primary nature. You walked into the room at the three-day camp, and you were loud, boisterous, cocky, and drew everyone’s attention.

I didn’t want to be anywhere near that kind of energy. ”

He grins at me. “Good thing fate had other plans, and we were paired up to work together.”

“It didn’t take long for me to realize how wrong I was. In a different way than I was expecting, you’re still all of those things, but the brightness of your personality complements my shades of gray, and your soul soothes mine.”

“Baby,” he whispers, sending a chill up my spine.

He moves closer, intense gaze locked on me.

“I knew from the moment I saw you across the locker room that I needed you in my life. My soul was always drawn to yours. Your steadfast calm and your unwavering support. All I’ve ever wanted to do is give you the same things in return.

Care for you. Love you the way you love me. ”

“We really should’ve seen this coming.”

“Even the best football players get blindsided sometimes.”

I chuckle and shake my head, but he captures my lips in a kiss so passionate, we tumble backward, lost in each other.

Ryan is lying in my arms on a blanket by the fireplace. Bridgerton is playing on the TV, but we’re not really watching since we’ve seen them all before.

He’s just finished telling me what Wendell told him.

“Do you think we should file a complaint?” I ask. “Bianca was right there and saw everything.”

“I don’t know. I’m not against it. There’s every chance she’s already reported that to Mike Brady. I wish we could just talk to him and get a sense of what he’s thinking.”

I shrug. “Why shouldn’t we? It’s not the typical way of going about things, but it’s not unheard of, either.”

“It might look shady if they are intending to get rid of him, though,” Ryan says.

“Maybe we should talk to Bianca—off the record—and get her opinion. Probably our agents’ opinions too.”

“And prepare for the worst,” he mutters. Then he sighs and looks at me, running his hand down my chest. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to, so don’t worry about it.”

“Even if they trade one of us? Being apart six months of the year would be—”

“If they trade one of us, I’ll retire.”

He blinks a couple of times. “What? You can’t give up your career for me.”

“I wouldn’t be. I’d be giving it up for us, and that’s worth it. I enjoy the game, but football doesn’t mean to me what it means to you.”

“You’d really do that?”

“You wouldn’t?” I ask, mostly because I know he would.

“Of course I would. But I can’t say it in such a blasé way. I’d do anything for you, but losing football would hurt.”

“And that’s the difference. It’s part of what fulfills you. That’s not what football does for me.”

“Then what would you do? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to have you be my sexy house husband and build an incredible garden and crochet me cozy blankets, but I want you to have something that fulfills you too.”

I bite my lip. I think it’s time to come clean.

“One second,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his head as I get up and go to my room. I find the recently released poetry book and bring it out to the living room. Once I’m sitting back down, I hand him the book. “This fulfills me. You, building a life together, and this… that’s all I need.”

“Poetry?” he asks, a little confused. “I know you have every book from this author, but I can’t condone you becoming a stalker.”

I shake my head and open to the back of the book where the little blurb about the author sits. “Not much to go on there, stalker-wise.”

He nods. “I know. I tried to look him up once. I was hoping to find some kind of signing or something so you could meet him. But there’s not much out there. The guy is like a ghost.”

A smile grows on my lips. “I’m sneaky on the field and off it.”

Ryan turns to me with wide eyes. “What?”

I point to the front cover where the author’s name is. “B.W. Cole. You remember my dad’s first name?”

“Walt,” he says gently.

I nod, then drag my finger to the last name. “And my grandmother’s maiden name was Cole.”

“You’re B.W. Cole?” he rasps.

I nod, watching as he flips through the book until he finds the poem Love Is.

“You wrote this?” His voice is filled with so much emotion it makes my chest ache.

“Yes. Like so many other poems I’ve written, it was all about you.”

“This… this poem is what gave me the final push to tell you how I felt. I was reading it right before you were supposed to go on your date. It was all for me?”

“Always,” I breathe.

His mouth lands on mine in an all-consuming kiss.

Rolling on top of me, he lets the book fall to the side. I palm his ass as we kiss, and in seconds, we’re both hard and grinding together.

He rips his lips off mine. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

Wrapping my arms around him, I sit straight up. “There’s nothing I want more than to be buried inside you, watching how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me.”

We scramble upright, and I turn off the fireplace, then it’s a fumbled race to the bedroom as we strip down and kiss, desperate to feel each other, to take this step.

Once we’re there, Ryan climbs onto the bed, splaying himself out and stroking his gorgeous cock. I have to remind myself that right now is not about sucking him off, because I’m always ready for his mouthwatering cock and the taste of his cum. But being inside him will be even better.

He reaches out and strokes my cock, dragging me closer.

And this is when I notice he’s wearing a butt plug.

“How long have you had that in?” I ask, my voice choppy.

“I put it in after practice. I wanted to be ready for you.”

I bite my knuckles as I whimper.

Grabbing the lube, I spread his legs wider, then slowly pull the butt plug out. His hole is relaxed and almost ready.

“Lube your cock and get inside me. I’m ready for you.”

Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Stop rushing this. I know you want it, but I’m longer and thicker than any of your toys. If we don’t take it slow, this will hurt.” I kiss his neck. “And I don’t ever want you to be in pain.”

“My cock is in pain right now from how badly I need to come.”

I bend down and kiss the tip as he lets out an exasperated groan.

“This will be worth it. Trust me. And there’s plenty of pleasure in getting you ready. Wrap your hands under your thighs and pull your legs back.” I gently suck his tip after he does it. “Good boy.”

Coating my fingers with lube, I circle them around his hole.

He instantly bears down, begging for me.

I kiss across his thigh. “You’re such a needy little slut.”

“Only for you,” he moans.

Then I have to pause to stroke myself because as much fun as I’m having, this is torture for me too.

I press two fingers against his hole, and this time when he bears down, I slowly push them inside.

“Shit. Fuck. Yes.”

He easily takes both fingers, and I pump them a few times.

“I’m going to add a third finger now, and if I can, I’ll add a fourth.”

“Give me all of them.”

His whining goes straight to my cock. There’s nothing like him pleading for me to give him more.

I add a third and spin my hand around before thrusting again.

“How does that feel?”

“Good. I told you I’m not new at this. I want my ass fucked. Please.”

I lean down again and suck his cock into my mouth, bobbing up and down on it a few times.

“Keep using your manners. Good boys get rewards.”

“I’m a good boy. The goodest boy,” he gasps.

I add one more finger, though I don’t do it for long because even at the same thickness, fingers are less comfortable than a cock or a toy.

When I pull them away, he cries out. “Please. Is it time? I’m ready.”

Holding his legs with one arm, I spread lube all around his hole and push some inside, then cover my length with it too.

“We’re going slow,” I breathe as I push the tip against his opening.

He bears down, and as I slip inside him, I have to repeat those words to myself over and over, because it’s all too much. Too good.

“Is going slow for me or for you?” he grunts.

“Both. You feel too perfect. Warm and tight around my cock. I need this to last so it’s good for you too. Just be patient with me.”

“You’re the only thing worth being patient for.”

I move a little farther in.

“More lube,” he groans.

I hurry to add it, and when I do, my dick slips in farther.

“Better?”

“Perfect. Fuck me. Please.”

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“When have I ever not said exactly what I want? Please, baby. Don’t make me beg anymore.”

Gripping his thighs tighter, I lock eyes with him as I push all the way inside. I know the second I brush his prostate because a chill runs through him, and he moans loudly.

“Yes. More. Give me everything.”

Pulling back out slightly, I add a little more lube, then thrust back in.

His cry of pleasure makes my balls tighten.

Gotta keep this together for him.

I hold his legs tightly and find a rhythm, and as I do, I watch Ryan’s beautiful face absolutely lost in pleasure.

He moans, whimpers, and cries out for more. Everything about him is expressive, and the way he shakes and writhes beneath me takes my breath away. It’s the visible display of how good I make him feel.

“Brian,” he rasps. “Oh… oh… yes. More.”

He wraps his hand around his cock, jerking himself wildly, and I grab the lube and squirt some there for him.

I pull most of the way out and thrust back in a little harder.

He cries out and arches into me.

Ryan Hardison is a sweaty, writhing mess beneath me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

“You little cockslut. You’re desperate for more, aren’t you? Do you need me to fuck you harder? Fill your ass with my cum?”

“Give it to me. Give me everything, baby. I need it. I need to feel you pulse inside me. I never… ah.” He pants a couple of times, his hand stilling on his cock for a second before he starts stroking it again.

“No one has ever owned my body like this, and I want you to give me everything so I can give you everything. I love you.”

“Fuck,” I groan, pumping faster until my balls draw up.

“Brian,” he cries, his face going slack as his body spasms, and cum splatters onto his stomach.

My eyes drift closed and my head drops back as I fill his sweet, needy ass.

“Holy shit, that feels good,” he pants.

Flicking my eyes open again, I smile down at him, the same hazy, satisfied expression in his eyes that I feel all through my body.

I move to pull out of him, but he grabs me and pulls me tighter to him. “Not yet. It feels too good. Not yet.”

“Okay.” Shifting so I’m almost lying on top of him, I wrap my arms around him, then roll over, so I’m on my back and he’s on top of me.

“Can you sit up?” he rasps.

I stare up at him, then nod and ease myself up to sitting. He moves with me, and once I’m sitting, he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.

I’ve never felt more content than I do right now. He’s surrounding me in every way, wrapping me up in his love both physically and emotionally. Every time I think this can’t get better, he finds a way to prove me wrong—and make me fall a little harder for him in the process.