Page 82 of No Rhyme or Roughing
“I’ve got you.” His words were closer now, his breath fluttering over the inside of my thigh. Then, he was there, right where I hadn’t realized I needed him. Tongue. Teeth. A vibrating growl.
The sensations built in me, but I wasn’t prepared to tumble from the cliff just yet, not alone.
“Ryder?” I slammed my head back against the wall as another wave of pleasure threatened to crash over me.
“Hmm?”
“Please stop.”
He froze, drops of water bouncing off the top of his head. And then, he lowered me to the ground, his movements stiff, less sure than before.
“We should get clean,” he said. “That’s what a shower is for, after all.”
“Wait just a fucking minute.” I pressed a hand to his chest. “What is going on right now?”
“You asked me to stop. It’s okay if you changed your mind. I’m trying to be a gentleman right now.”
“Well, stop.” I was angry now, but also even morearoused at how considerate he was. “If I wanted a fucking gentleman, I wouldn’t be in this dark shower right now. I only asked you to stop because I want you to… fuck!” I could hardly even say it. I spent so long not talking about what I wanted, letting guys get their rocks off and pretending I had too, that it was ingrained in me to just be… congenial.
I felt the moment he shifted. It was impossible, but Isensedhis smirk. “Say it again.”
“Say what?” I had no idea what was going on here.
He pulled me against him. “I love it when you curse at me.”
“Fuck?” I lifted a brow. “That’s what gets you hot?”
“When it’s you, yes.” Then, he kissed me, and I tasted his earlier efforts. He scraped his teeth along my bottom lip, and I almost came from the sensation. But it was nothing compared to him lifting me, forcing my legs around his waist as he tilted me back against the tile.
It didn’t take long once he’d entered me before I bit back a scream.
“Let it out,” he said. “I want to hear you.”
But I couldn’t. Make a scene, be too loud, too much. When my orgasm pulsed through me, all worries about who I was, who I was supposed to be, faded away and I moaned. Loud. Long. Ryder’s name fell from my lips over and over, echoing off the low ceiling.
I’d just come back to earth when he came with a world-shattering cry of relief. My world, that was. Because when my name tumbled from his mouth as he lowered my feet, as his head collapsed onto my shoulder, I knew that world had shifted.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SYDNEY
What do you do after having the best sex of your life with your brother’s best friend?
Go home to said brother, sit in the living room with him and said best friend, pretending everything is normal. Watch a movie and act like you comprehend anything happening on the screen while your body still hums from that locker room.
A locker room, I realized, that may not have been the cleanest.
I didn’t want to freak out about what happened; that wasn’t me. Instead, I spent all night fixating on my bare feet touching the shower stall floor. Thinking about how many sweaty, gross men had cleaned themselves there.
It was a coping mechanism.
I also locked my bedroom door. A preemptive move to keep away any hockey bros who might want to invade my space while I needed to think.
By the time I woke the next morning, I’d barely slept. The house was quiet as I moved through it, except for a piercing yip coming from Guardian’s crate. I opened it and gathered him into my arms before heading outside. “The guys already leave for morning skate?” I asked him, as if he could answer.
Instead, he just looked up at me with big brown eyes that saw through every ounce of strength I tried to project.
“Don’t,” I told him as I stepped onto the fake lawn in the backyard.
