Page 25 of Clashing
“You feel so fucking good, Scarlett,” he murmured against my lips, his hand coasting over my waist and hip. “Where are your keys, baby?”
I barely got my answer out when he pressed a hot kiss to my neck. “It’s not locked.”
He stiffened. “Why the fuck not?”
“I was basically guarding it all night. What’s going to happen?”
“A number of things. Anyone could’ve come up when you weren’t looking or when we were in the bathroom.” He snatched my hand and opened the door, peering inside. “Jesus, Scarlett.”
“What, are you paranoid?”
“Yes. I am. Get over it.” He grunted, tugging me inside but not letting me in front of him. “It was locked last night. Why would you not lock it again?”
Because locks don’t just keep people out. Sometimes they trap.I freed my hand from his so he wouldn’t notice it shake. I hadn’t locked the door yesterday, either. Dan did when he retrieved the sandwich I packed for his drive.
“Because there’s no point. I was right by the only way up here. Ryker, seriously, no one’s here. Why are you so worried?”
“Scarlett, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he glared at me over his shoulder, “but men are trash, and you’re fucking gorgeous. I wouldn’t be surprised if some piece of shit snuck up here.”
I let out a long sigh and crossed my arms. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m going to check the bedroom, and when I get back,” he pointed at me, “you’re paying for that.”
I bit my lip and watched him creep into my bedroom, wondering what exactly he meant. My pussy fluttered at the thought. How easily I reacted to him was ridiculous. Pathetic. Yet, I couldn’t stay away. Even watching him walk away made me wet. He had a really nice butt.
Knowing I was about to get a workout, I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, then noticed the mail I hadn’t sorted. I shuffled the envelopes aside, making a pile of things to throw away when something caught my eye.
A letter. From fucking Todd. How did he know where to send it? I’d never told him where Dan’s bar was. I never told him I was leaving. I had a restraining order. Wasn’t writing to me breaking a rule?
Ryker approached, and I tucked the letter under the other mail.
He tilted his head, gaze darting to the pile. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I set my water down. I didn’t want him to know about the letter. Not after last night. “Did you find the bogeyman in there?” I clutched my chest and gasped. “Don’t tell me, Freddy Krueger?”
His concern-knit brows shifted to narrowed eyes. In two long strides, he reached me, yanked me against him, and smacked my ass. “You like pissing me off, don’t you?” His fingers curled around my jaw, and he crushed my lips to his.
I wrapped my arms around him, yelping when his hand hit my ass again. Harder. The sting coursed heat and lust through my veins.
He plopped me on the counter and caged me in with his tattooed arms. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t enjoy pissing me off.”
He smirked and tilted my chin up. “I do. I like getting you worked up. You’re sexier the feistier you get, sugar.”
“I seem to recall telling you I don’t answer to sugar.”
“I seem to recall you answering to it just fine when I had my cock buried in you.” He sank to his knees and lurched me to the edge of the counter. His head dove between my legs, tongue circling my clit while his calloused fingers gripped my thighs.
I moaned and grasped the edge of the counter. He pushed two fingers into me and I whimpered and ground against his face and hand. When his fingers curled against my G-spot, I gasped, my orgasm near. I could taste the release when he pulled away.
“Ryker,” I whined, clamping my legs together. “What the fuck?”
“I told you.” He stood. “I said you’d pay for it.”
“You suck.” I sank my hand toward the ache to take over where he’d left off.
He caught my wrist and pinned it behind me. “I don’t think so, sugar. Don’t make me tie you down.”
