Page 31 of One Spicy Summer

She’s adorable. Pink corduroy dress, knee-high white socks, black shoes, and a matching pink barrette.

I shut and lock the door behind us, guiding her toward the four-poster bed in the center of the room. I recognize the guest room, but I’m not thinking about the decor.

Right now, all I care about is her.

“What the hell?” she yells when I wrap my hands gently around her waist.

“Rygaard? What are you doing here?” she squeaks.

“I saw you,” I whisper.

“Saw me what?” she asks, feigning confusion.

“Saw you with Donovan. Saw his hands on you. Saw him all over you.” I stalk toward her.Smirking, she stifles a giggle. “Why? Are you jealous, Ry?”

I pull her closer until our noses brush.My breath fans across her face, each word laced with raw need.

“You haven’t seen jealous,” I say. “Not until you’ve seen me watch you with someone else. Idefinejealous, Prez. I don’t care if someonelooksat what’s mine. But when theytouchit?” I growl. “That’s when I lose my fucking mind.”

I back her up until her legs hit the bed.

She fidgets under my gaze, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s turned on by it.

Then she giggles, scoffing, “Oh, now I’m yours? That’s funny, weren’t you just in a closet with some bimbo from class?”

Next thing I know, I’m pushing her onto the bed, dropping to my knees between her thighs, resting my head in her lap.

This girl is the only one who gets to see me like this.On my knees. Vulnerable.And I don’t even need her to ask for it.

“Fuck every single girl here that isn’t you, Presley. I declined everyone’s offers and walked away. Thank God nothing happened, because if it had, this house would be ashes.”

I tangle my hands into her hair, feeling hers clutch at my back, holding me like I’m her whole world.

“I didn’t know Donovan would do that,” she whispers. “He only offered to let me cook and bake at his place. But I wasn’t stupid enough to believe him, Ry.”

“I know you’re not stupid,” I murmur. “But he’s a fucking pig. If anything happened to you at his hands…” I clench my jaw. “I’d be rotting in Polunsky. Because I’d kill him.”

Her tiny hands lift my chin, forcing my gaze into hers.“Rygaard, you never have to worry about me,” she promises, sealing it with a soft kiss.

I lean into it, losing myself. Her lips are home.

“Good,” she whispers, cradling my face. “Now be a good boy and take my virginity.”

Those big, innocent eyes search mine, full of trust. Full of need.

“Is that the alcohol talking, Presley?” I ask, wary.

She grabs my face harder. “What makes you think it’s the alcohol?” she fires back. “I asked you to fuck me weeks ago. You said no. Don’t play the knight in shining armor, Rygaard, it doesn’t suit you.”

Her hands are so small, but her grip is fierce.

Slapping her hands away, catching the teasing smirk on her lips, I stand and haul her up with me.Spinning us around, I sit on the bed and tug her between my knees.

“Kneel,” I command. Her smirk blooms into a full-blown grin as she obeys.God help me.

I’m a fucking ball of nerves, but I can’t back down now. If we do this, there’s no going back.

“Ry,” she moans, desperate.

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