Page 96 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
He groaned, and I knew it wouldn’t take much more to convince him. It didn’t.
He pushed down his briefs and tossed them aside, and I almost laughed at how easy it was to get him sidetracked when sex was on offer.
When he reached for me, I batted his hands away, stood up and stripped down to my lacy bra and underwear, then climbed onto the bed and kneeled over him.
“You don’t get to touch me,” I said. “That’s the rule.”
He groaned as I palmed his balls, feeling their weight in my hand, and rolled them around a little, squeezing one while I took the other into my mouth and sucked. Holding his gaze, I moved on to the other one, sucking it while I stroked his cock, my touch featherlight. His breathing was shallow, and I smirked as I continued my gentle assault.
“Fucking hell,” he rasped as I ran the tip of my tongue up his cock and guided the tip to my mouth and wrapped my lips around it, and swirled my tongue. His jaw clenched, and his muscles tensed under my fingertips as I trailed them over his abdomen and hip bone and the crease of his thigh, then followed with my tongue.
I pinched one of his nipples and lightly trailed the ends of my hair over his cock. It was too much for him. He grabbed the back of my head and dug his fingers into my scalp.
“I need to be inside you. Right the fuck now,” he gritted out.
I laughed. Then I gave him what he wanted. I tossed my underwear on the floor, straddled him, and sank down on him.
And I rode him.Hard.
* * *
We got dressed, and I was sure I was sporting that just-fucked look, but I didn’t care enough to look in the mirror. I was wearing denim cutoffs with a tank top and a flannel over it to show how little I cared. I ran my fingers through the waves of my hair while Ridge tied his high-tops. Tonight he was wearing jeans and a fitted gray T-shirt that molded to his body.
I tugged on the hem. “You got all dressed up tonight.”
He laughed. “It’s just a T-shirt.”
“With sleeves and a neck.”
“Jude gave me a bunch of his old T-shirts last year. I stuffed them in a drawer and forgot about them.”
“It looks new.” I didn’t know why I was making such a big deal over a stupid T-shirt.
“Shit. Maybe it is. Asshole. He gave me about a dozen of them. Probably didn’t want me to think I was a charity case.”
“Well, you look good in it,” I said as we walked out the front door.
He pulled me against him. “You look good in everything. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
When he said it, I believed him.
I showed up for dinner at his house with a smile and an afterglow. I was sure Shiloh saw it, but she gave me a little smile and said nothing.
I loved Brody’s house because it felt like home. Whereas Quinn’s house was huge and so perfect it looked like it belonged in a glossy magazine, Brody’s rambling farmhouse was comfortable and lived in.
As I told Shiloh about a million times, the gumbo was amazing, and all too soon, dinner was over, and Ridge was ready to go.
We walked out the front door of Brody’s house and followed a gravel road flanked by live oaks and tall grass. Ridge was holding my hand in his much bigger one, and it felt like we fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
If anyone had told me before this summer that I would fall so hard for a guy like Ridge, I would have called them crazy. Ridge used to be the guy I loved to hate. Now he gave me butterflies.
On the way to Walker’s, I was preoccupied with how many girls Ridge had slept with at this party, and we hadn’t even gotten there yet.
I kept reminding myself that we weren’t a real couple and that none of this was real, but it was getting harder and harder to convince myself.
The night air was warm, not too hot like it usually was in August, and even though we still had a few weeks of summer left, it felt like it was coming to an end.
Everyone would be moving on. Everyone except for me.
