Chasing Mr. Wrong
by Joya Ryan
Copyright © 2015 by Joya Ryan. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Ryder Diamond looked in the mirror and scowled. Why the hell had he agreed to a blind date? Sure, his buddies were all settling down with their true loves. Even his best friend Bass was playing house with Ryder’s little sister—something that still made Ryder’s hand twitch with the need to punch him.
“And now I’m letting him set me up on a blind date,” Ryder mumbled.
The snap of an opening beer can sounded from behind him, and Ryder turned to find Huck walking into his room. Only it wasn’t a beer he was holding.
“What the hell is that?” Ryder asked, and motioned to the can in Huck’s hand.
“It’s coconut water. Supposed to be really good for you.” He took a big swig, and Ryder almost retched. A few months ago, Huck had been double fisting beers and slamming them faster than he could open the next one. But things had changed for his friend—like the love of a good woman.
“Speaking of what the hell…” Huck said. “What the hell is that?” He eyed Ryder’s shirt.
Ryder looked down the front of himself. “It’s a tie.”
“No, no, no, no.” Huck took a swig of canned water and yelled over his shoulder. “Bass, get in here. This is bad.”
Ryder glared and crossed his arms as Bass walked in and chuckled at Ryder’s appearance.
“Are you going to church there, handsome?” Bass joked.
“What are you two even doing here?” Ryder asked, tugging at his tie and taking it off. He tossed it on the floor and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt.
“Well, I had come to watch the game,” Huck said. “But apparently you’re putting on a different kind of show.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single dollar bill. “Gonna give us a dance, big boy?”
“Fuck off,” Ryder said, rolling up the cuffs of his blue dress shirt.
“Sorry, can’t do that, either.” Huck huffed like a distressed teenager. “Autumn is doing her pregnancy workout video and kicked me out. It’s not my fault she looks amazing in those tight pants. When she bends over, I just want to—”
“I can see why she kicked you out,” Ryder said.
“Well, I came to make sure you don’t mess this up,” Bass said. “You’ve been an asshole lately, and you need to get laid, or at the very least get out and socialize.”
“I’m plenty social,” Ryder defended himself.
Of course, by “social”, he meant that he was in town running errands, or he was working. But he always chatted with people whenever he could. The town was important to him. His family had built it, for Christ’s sake. And Ryder’s father and grandfather had shoes particularly difficult to fill, since their legacies were the beacons of pride around there.
Which was why he tried to present the best side of himself at all times.
He also was running a business that relied on his small town to stay local and use Diamond Construction when they needed something built. It was a delicate balance of good will, good faith, and good manners.
“Social?” Bass challenged. “Is that what you call working eighteen-hour days? I didn’t bring my dictionary with me, but I’m pretty sure those are two very different things.”
As if the universe were on cue, his cell phone buzzed with a text. Clara Davenport. She was the only daughter of Milton Davenport who, presently, was sort of Ryder’s boss. The man owned a ton of land in Diamond. Land in need of developing. It was the kind of business relationship that could secure Ryder’s future and the future of his employees.
Take the current development project. Ryder and his team were remodeling the Davenport Hall, which was where the eighteen-hour days were coming in. But this hall could lead to more deals with Davenport. He just needed to see this project through with no distractions, no problems, and things would be fine.
He glanced at his phone and hit ignore. Because the one thing that was not fine was Clara calling and texting looking to “discuss ideas” on the interior decorating of the Hall only to rope Ryder into a pseudo-date. Not that she’d call it a pseudo-date, but subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. She was arrogant, cold, and laying it on thick, and it was clear she was after Ryder for a lot more than his renovation skills. And he just wasn’t interested.
To be honest, he didn’t have time for dating at all, even if he were interested. But Huck and Bass had been on his ass often enough that agreeing to this one blind date seemed like the easiest way to shut them up.
“I agreed to this setup of yours,” Ryder said. “I didn’t agree to get shit from you about it.”
Besides, Bass’s friend was only in town for one night. Just passing through. So no matter how well—or, if Ryder’s track record was any indication, how not well—it went, he’d be back to his normal life tomorrow.
Still, he felt compelled to say, “I don’t need help getting dates.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Bass said with seriousness. “But half the single females around here don’t want to date you, they want to marry you.”
Huck did some kind of hand waving gesture while singing, “If you like it, you should put a ring on it.”
When both Bass and Ryder stared at their tattooed, pierced, and generally badass looking friend singing, of all things, a Beyoncé song, Huck stopped and shrugged.
“What? Autumn aerobicizes to that song. It’s catchy.”
“Jesus,” Ryder muttered.
Bass gave Huck a look like he understood and smiled.
His friends were happy. Really fucking happy. And Ryder was happy for them. Both had wonderful women in their lives, and Huck was going be a father. Both of them had an ease in every step that made it seem like they were walking on sunshine 24/7.
“This is a great opportunity for you,” Bass said, returning his attention to Ryder. “Everyone around here knows you, your name, and…”
Bass trailed off, but Ryder could guess what he was going to say next, because he’d dealt with it for a while now. Everyone, especially women, wanted a piece of Ryder. And not in the cool kind of way. They didn’t want him, they wanted what he could offer—like his name and station in town.
Something he’d learned the hard way when he was young and stupid, and it had almost cost his family everything.
Bass clapped Ryder on the shoulder. “Tonight you get to be yourself with a stranger that doesn’t know you’re Mr. Diamond of the founding Diamonds.”
“You didn’t tell her my name?”
“Nope. Just told her to be on the lookout for a jackass in a tie.”
“Funny,” Ryder said, really happy he’d ditched the tie now. Bass knew him too well. But the idea his friend had posed was intriguing. For one night, he didn’t have to be Ryder Diamond. And he was meeting his date at the lodge on the edge of town, where almost no locals went.
“I’m going to head out,” Ryder said.
Both guys looked him up and down as if assessing his outfit.
“I dunno…” Huck said.
Bass nodded. “He needs the tie. Don’t you think?”
“Definitely. It would really bring the whole outfit together in that classic ‘I have no clue how to dress myself’ kind of way.”
Ryder rolled his eyes. “What’s her name?”
“Her stage name is Candy,” Bass said.
“Stage name?” Ryder’s eyes shot wide. “Did you set me up with a stripper?”
“She’s really nice,” Bass defended. “A bit quirky, but a fun girl.”
“You’re going to marry my sister, and you know a stripper?” Ryder took a step toward his friend, that itch in his hand doubling.
“Easy there,” Bass said. “I represented her when I worked on a case in Wichita a couple of years ago.” Okay, that was better. But apparently Bass felt the need to elaborate. “Besides, Penny is way sexier than any stripper, and her lap dances are—”
“My ears are bleeding!” Ryder snapped. He didn’t need to hear that shit.
What had Bass been thinking, not telling Ryder these kinds of details about this blind date? He hadn’t even given her actual name. Was Ryder really supposed to call her by her stage name all evening?
He couldn’t. Actually, he shouldn’t go at all.
This was just a bad idea. And bad ideas were what Ryder spent most of his time fighting. He might be responsible, but he had to work at it. Because deep down, Ryder loved a challenge. He also loved his prized control and calm. He had impulses for the wild and crazy as much as the next man, but that was a constant internal battle he fought daily. Logic always won out. It had to.
Huck seemed to recognize the reservation on his face, because he piped up with, “You better get going, golden boy. Running late is against your good manners policy.”
Huck might be giving him a hard time, but he was still right. Ryder hated being late, so yeah, he hustled.
“Remember, this is a casual date,” Bass said. “Be yourself.”
One night to be himself did sound good. But Ryder wasn’t as hopeful as his buddy that this wouldn’t turn in to some kind of disaster. He’d just try to get through what would likely be an awkward meal and be on his way.
“I’m assuming I’ll be able to tell what she looks like?” Ryder asked.
“Yeah, you’ll be able to tell. She’s a brunette stripper. Just look for the hottest girl in the place.”
“And take some condoms with you!” Huck yelled as Ryder grabbed his keys and headed out, hating his friend with a passion at that moment.
Great. Just fucking great.
Whitney took a sip of her pineapple vodka and eyed the pool table. The lodge she was staying at was rustic and quaint. Okay, so it had antlers of all varieties on the wall, and this particular room was covered in floor to ceiling dark wood paneling. The interior decorator was obviously male and some kind of hunting enthusiast. Not her taste, but it was cheap and a place to stay.
The small bar and sitting area around the corner had a few people scattered around, so she came into the horns haven game room to be by herself and try not to think about her life. Or the lack of anyone in it.
On one hand, that was just how she liked it.
On the other hand, what she wouldn’t give for a fantasy man to help scratch that itch. Even if just for tonight.
She walked around the table one more time, eyeing her next shot, pausing only to grab a Sour Patch Kid from her purse and pop it into her mouth. Nothing was better than sweet, sour, and vodka.
Her sister Kacey had hated sour things. She’d also hated mustard and white chocolate. But she’d loved summertime. Loved running straight into the ocean with her arms spread wide. Loved life.
It had been over a year since her big sister had died in a car accident. And the memory still cut straight to her bones when Whitney thought of her. Yet all she did lately was think of her sister and the night she’d lost her. How she was the lucky one who had walked away from the crash, and Kacey wasn’t.
But Whitney didn’t feel lucky. It should have been Kacey who survived. She’d always been the stronger one. The wiser one. The better sister. But fate had chosen Whitney to survive, and every day since, she’d been on the run from both that moment and the life she’d left behind.
It made her sick to think of the things her sister would now never achieve. She’d been trying to figure out what to do ever since Kacey had died, and she’d finally come to one conclusion. If fate had chosen Whitney to live, then that was what she would do. She would embrace every new opportunity. She would see the world. She would follow her heart and never look back. If not for her, then for Kacey.
Which was why at almost eight o’clock on a Friday night, she was alone in some small-ass Kansas town, ready to spend a few weeks there before taking off again for however far her next tank of gas lasted. Tomorrow, she’d have to figure out what the next step would be. But tonight? Time to see where the wind blew her.
She took another drink of her vodka, set it down, and bent over the pool table. She stroked the pool cue, positioned it, aimed…
“Nine ball, side pocket,” she whispered. With a crack of the cue ball hitting the nine, she sank her shot with precision.
“Candy?” came a rugged voice from behind her.
She gasped, startled she wasn’t alone in the room anymore and turned to face—
Hol-ee-hotness.
A tall, painfully attractive man with intense gray eyes and boy next door charm was staring her down. He might have a gentlemanly appeal that radiated off of him, but there was nothing gentlemanly about the obviously well-honed muscles he was rockin’ beneath that shirt.
“Candy?” she repeated. She frowned then glanced at her purse. Odd request, but maybe he’d seen her snag some and wanted a piece. She walked to her bag, trying to hide her smile. She’d happily give him a piece…anytime. Because the guy was seriously sexy.
She reached in and grabbed a Sour Patch Kid and walked it to the hottie.
He took the piece, looked at it, then at her.
“Cute,” he said. “Really cute.” He popped it in his mouth. “I’m Ryder.”
He reached out his hand to shake hers. Yep, gentleman. But she took it, and his grip instantly engulfed her smaller hand. His palm was thick with healed callouses.
Must be a hard worker…
What would those big hands feel like running up her bare back…
She just stood mute, struck by those hot gray eyes, while her mind churned out a wicked fantasy involving tall, tan, and sexy over there and the pool table behind her. A grin tugged at his perfect lips, as if he could read her thoughts. She blushed and pulled her hand away.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
She just nodded, because he was the first nice thing to come walking into her world in a long time. It wasn’t until his gaze had fastened on her that she realized how rarely she interacted with people for any amount of time. Sure, she got out and lived it up when she could, but she never made friends because she was always moving.
Yet people fascinated her. Being a sociology major, she’d always enjoyed observing individuals and their interactions within their societal norms, what passed for prim and proper versus wild and wanton depending on the city. Nothing about this man struck her as prim and proper, though. The way he looked at her made her shiver, and she wanted to stand there and bask in the moment for a second.
He looked so damn put together that it made her examine herself quickly. She was in her favorite cutoff shorts and tank top that read put some south in your mouth—something it seemed Ryder couldn’t help but notice. Good. She’d gotten the shirt for its sass as much as for how it outlined the girls and got the attention of whatever man she put in her sights.
Because she was looking right back at him, wishing she had the power to melt cotton with her eyes. While she wasn’t sure on most things, she was certain that the man before her had an impressive physique, and she wanted to see more of it.
“So.” He glanced at the pool table before returning that smoldering gaze to her. He looked at her in a way that made her chest hitch and her breasts tingle. “Care for a partner?”
His eyes stayed on her, and she was ready to take him up on that offer in more ways than one.
“Yes, please,” she said.
Her night was suddenly looking up.
Chapter Two
“So you’re from around here?” the sexy brunette asked as she eyed her shot and bent over the pool table again.
Jesus Christ, Ryder needed to get a grip. He couldn’t stare all night at her perfect ass in those insanely short shorts. Her shirt was tied up and gave flashes of her tight stomach, and Ryder had to take a deep breath. Maybe Bass was right. It’d been too long since he’d gotten laid.
“It’s not a hard question, big guy,” she said, snapping his thoughts out of the gutter and back to reality. Where were his manners?
“I’m sorry, sweetness. Run that by me again?” He stood straighter, gripping his pool cue as her big, chocolate eyes flashed up at him with a smile.
“I asked if you were from around here.” She hit the five in the side pocket and straightened.
Was he from around there? Technically, the lodge was in Diamond County, but it wasn’t zoned in the town of Diamond. He’d have to hold onto that technicality. If he so much as gave his last name, the connection would be made and the questions would start. Was he rich? Was he married? On and on.
For now, he wanted to take advantage of what Bass had said. This woman was passing through for just one night, and for one night, he didn’t have to be Ryder Diamond of the founding Diamonds.
“Not exactly,” he finally answered. It was the truth, basically.
She nodded and looked at him. Those roaming eyes gave off what he knew was a look of interest. And damn, it was a mighty fine look.
“You’re a little mysterious, cowboy,” she said, her east coast accent kicking up just a hair.
“Not a cowboy.” He drawled the last word and dropped the vowel just enough to gauge her reaction. Judging by the quick intake of air, and those high perfect breasts pressing tight against that shirt, he’d guess she was toiling with the idea of what getting down and dirty with a country boy was like. And he’d happily show her. “You wanna tell me where you’re from?”
She glanced away. “I move around a lot. Not really from anywhere.”
Huh. So she was playing the part of a mystery as much as he was.
She bent over the pool table again, even though it was his turn. He happily let her have the shot.
“How about this,” he said, and came to stand by her. “Why don’t we skip all the personal questions? You just tell me about yourself, however much or little you’d like.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “The more mysterious, the better?”
He smiled. “You got it.”
With her pool cue perfectly aligned, she winked at him, and then, without taking her eyes off him, she nailed the shot and sank the three ball. She was better than good, and that had him instantly hard. She was young, hot, and stirred his blood in a way it hadn’t been in a while. Maybe ever. Because with her lush mouth and hypnotic eyes, it was hard keeping his manners at the forefront, especially when she represented everything easy, fun, and wild.
And good Lord, he would make sure tonight fulfilled every fantasy he’d denied himself. Just like a diabetic sampling chocolate frosting…only once Ryder had a taste, he’d consume the whole damn cake.
She’s bad for you…
The quiet voice whispered that familiar warning. She was a temptation that he should be struggling to resist, yet every beat of his pulse told him that she’d be worth the sin. A night of lust to scratch this damn itch, then he could go back to his normal life tomorrow.
He’d been burned by a woman before. A woman like the one in front of him. Sexy, wild, and looking for fun, not for serious. And Ryder was a serious guy. Had to be. The second he wasn’t, he lost control and paid the consequences dearly.
Don’t get sucked in… Resist.
“I like personal details,” she said. “But not the boring kind. I don’t want to know where you’re from or what you do.”
Ryder nodded. He could get on board with that. “Details, so long as they’re not boring. And how do we go about that?”
She gave a wicked grin and ran her teeth over her bottom lip. He watched every damn slide, wishing to hell he could taste what she was tasting.
“We play a game,” she said simply.
“What kind of game?”
He took a drink of his longneck, and she picked up her glass of citrus liquor. They were both now on round two, and he was convinced that she had to taste as sweet and tart as her drink.
“It’s called ‘I’ve Never’.” She stepped closer. “You say something you’ve never done. If the other person has done that, then they take a drink.”
He nodded. “I like it. Why don’t you go first?”
“We’ll start easy.” She shook the big barrel curls off her shoulders and glanced at the ceiling while holding her drink out. “I’ve never driven a heavy piece of machinery.”
Ah, shit. Ryder took a drink.
She smiled. “See, I just learned about you without coming up with boring questions. So you are clearly strong.” Her gaze skated down his chest, and he couldn’t help but flex a little. “And you’ve operated heavy machinery. I’m liking you already, big guy.”
All right, he could play this game too.
“My turn,” he said, zeroing in on her. “I’ve never gone skinny-dipping.”
Her eyes shot up like she’d been caught, and then a sly smile stretched her lips as she took a drink. “Nice one,” she said.
“Why, sweetness, you have a wild streak.”
She shrugged. “Maybe…”
Her challenging brow got serious, and Ryder was already finding this to be his favorite game. It was clear she wasn’t staying put anywhere, and though he only had this one night, this one moment, he was actually having…fun.
Another thing he hadn’t experienced in a while.
“I’ve never had a one-night stand,” she said.
Ryder went to take a drink, then stopped. He’d never had a one-night stand either. He’d fallen for a bombshell once, and living fast and loose with her was what had gotten him in trouble. But as fast and loose as it had been, it hadn’t been a one-night stand.
He’d dated his share of girls, and he’d known from a young age to keep his distance. So many of them came to him wanting to tie themselves to his family legacy. But his ex? He’d thought she was different.
He’d loved her, thrived on the thrill she gave him. And he was an idiot that had eloped with her—a secret no one except his closest friends knew. He’d risked everything, including his family’s name and money. Turned out, those were the only things she’d wanted. A couple of days and a quick annulment later, he’d realized he could never give in to that kind of passion again.
He’d been young and stupid, and ever since he’d stayed away from women that got his pulse working and tempted him to let his instincts run wild and give in to the primal lust that boiled constantly beneath the surface. He was responsible now. Had been for years. He dated women, walked them to the door, and after three or four dinners, he got invited in and knew that was the time to cut things off and move on. And so went the routine. Courting. Manners. Polite boundaries. Amicable endings.
“Whoa!” She smiled. “A hot guy like you has never hit it and quit it?” She took a sip of her drink. “So that tells me you’re either celibate or a romantic,” she teased.
He was ready to show her how wrong she was, because there was nothing romantic or celibate about what he was envisioning with her. It was hot, sweaty, rough, and involved the sexy brunette bent over the nearest flat surface.
“You think I’m hot, huh?” He tossed her a wink, and her cheeks took on a pretty pink color. She was trying to rile him, but his control was unshakable. Except for the fact that this sassy woman was shaking it…and he was ready to shake back.
“Are you a flowers and chocolates kind of man, too?” So she was trying to get back to her original line of questioning. Luckily Ryder had a lawyer for a friend and could talk in a circle with the best of them.
“That wasn’t phrased in the form of an ‘I’ve never’.”
She huffed. “Fine. I’ve never gotten flowers from a man.”
He frowned. Never? This woman was way too beautiful and fun to not have men falling at her feet. Not one had ever doted on her?
He took a drink of his beer.
“Hey, you have to be honest,” she said.
“I am being honest.”
She gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re saying you’ve never given a woman flowers?”
“No.” He smiled. “I’m saying I’ve never received flowers from a man, either.”
She laughed. “Looks like I just put my foot in my mouth. Well played, big guy.”
He stepped toward her. “By the way, just because I haven’t had a one-nighter yet doesn’t mean I’m a romantic.” He was practical if anything. And the way this woman was looking at him, like a treat she was ready to sample, he couldn’t bring himself to care about responsibility, manners, or anything but the desire to feel her skin against his.
Maybe it was time to give in to the devil sitting on his shoulder…and the devilishly sexy woman before him.
Whitney had never been so turned on in her life. She didn’t miss the way his gray eyes lit up like molten steel when he said he hadn’t experienced a one-night stand yet. It had her body zinging with anticipation.
She was game for one night with this man, but he was playing by rules she didn’t know, because while Ryder was clearly all things alpha, he was also a gentleman. But there was a buried darkness that she was dying see. Maybe he needed one more nudge to get that calm demeanor of his to break.
Time to initiate Social Engineering 101: talk in a way that gains an advantage and gives you what you want. Right now, she wanted to tap into Ryder, in more ways than one.
“Maybe we should take baby steps,” she said, taunting him just enough to get that silver spark in his eyes to glint. “I wouldn’t want to frighten you with my wild ways.”
He raised a brow. “Me? Frightened of you?”
She shrugged, but the way his body moved made the hairs on her neck perk up and pay attention. He stalked behind her and stood tall so that she was caught in his shadow. His hands moved ever so slightly as if he could snatch her in a single second and do what he wanted with her.
And she’d let him. Because the raw power that dripped from him was engulfing. So that was what it took to bring out his wild side—a challenge he couldn’t refuse. And boy, now she had to wonder if she’d gotten more than she’d asked for. He exuded a dominating presence that refused to be ignored.
“You looking to taunt me, little girl?”
“Just looking to learn you.”
That made him stop. Shit, had she said the wrong thing? This was only for a single night. But she wasn’t going to bore him with her plans for the summer—make some money so she could move on to the next place. This guy wasn’t even from around there. Looking to “learn him” had been a poor choice of words for a man she would never see again. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to back down from her statement. She only had tonight with him, but she planned to learn everything she could about how to give him pleasure.
“What is it you think you’ve learned so far?” he asked.
“You’re polite, but I think you have a wild streak just like I do.” She tapped her chin, revving up that alpha instinct he was keeping a tight hold of.
Push just a bit more.
“I wonder…” she said. “Do you ever get to act on that wildness?”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“You’ve never even gone skinny-dipping.”
“Maybe because I’ve never gotten the lady out of my bed long enough to make it to the lake.”
That got her attention real quick. He was good. Very, very good. And while she was certain he was also a nice guy, it was becoming clear there was an intensity to him that he rarely, if ever, got to explore. And she wanted to tap into that wicked darkness he was caging up.
Push…just…a…bit…more…
“I’ve never had sex with a cowboy in his truck,” she said.
He unleashed the sexiest grin God had ever gifted a man, and he took one more step until he was toe-to-toe with her.
His breath hit her lips when he said, “Like I said, sweetness, I’m no cowboy. But I do have a truck.”
Done!
She was about ready to scream the word and rip his clothes off. Instead, she finished her drink and tried to keep her body from buzzing out of control. Calm and seductive. Maybe even a bit coy. That wasn’t exactly her game—she preferred being direct—but if that was what Ryder needed, she was all too willing. She was game for anything and refused to cower behind inhibitions. Just looking at Ryder had her thinking that the few interactions she’d had with boys in the past were nothing compared to the man that stood before her.
She finished her drink and set it on the edge of the pool table. His eyes were locked on her, silent and waiting. He didn’t have to pretend at control, he owned it. That much was clear from the stillness in his frame and the confidence in his stance.
There was a back door out of the billiard room. She slipped her hand into his large one and tugged him to follow her. He did, and right when they hit the small hallway, his grip tightened and he spun her around to face him.
“Fuck baby steps,” he rasped against her mouth, then snagged her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging slightly and bringing her in for the hottest kiss she’d ever had.
She parted her lips on a gasp, and he plunged his tongue inside, as though taking a deep taste of her. He pressed her against the wall, tunneled his hands in her hair, and used his knee to kick her thighs apart so that he could take up the space between them.
“What are you doing to me?” he growled against her lips before diving in for more.
She arched her back, rubbed her breasts against his chest, and opened her legs wider to accommodate his larger frame. He surrounded her with his arms, could easily crush her if he wanted. Instead, he brought her close to him, eating her up with a powerful combination of strength and self-control. Not gentle, but not forceful. Just pure, raw lust.
And she wanted to feel all of it.
“Looks like I’m tapping into your wild side,” she whispered between kisses.
She caught flashes of his massive biceps straining against that poor shirt that struggled to contain them. She gripped the collar of his shirt in her fist, then yanked and brought him close, crashing his lips even further into hers. He groaned and, with a flex of his hips, ground against her.
He broke away, breathing hard. He glanced around quickly—as far as she could see, no one was paying them any attention—then without warning, he hoisted her up.
A sharp laugh broke from her as she locked her legs around his waist. He carried her with ease, like she weighed no more than a doll, and bounded toward a single door at the far end of the hallway. With her balanced in one arm, he opened the door and walked them into a dark supply closet. He shut the door behind them, all the while keeping her locked around him, and sank to his knees.
“I can’t see you,” she said. It was too dark, and that was a shame, because Ryder was a delectable sight.
“Your eyes will adjust, and don’t worry about seeing. I’ve got you.”
Her back was against the wall and Ryder against her front. Staying on his knees, he coaxed her to stand. She kept her hands on his face as she did so.
What must it look like to have a man like Ryder kneeling before her? A strange power flooded her. This strong man had chosen to stay kneeling while she rose to her feet.
He unfastened her shorts, then slid them down her thighs and off. The sound of the denim falling and the metal button hitting the ground with a clink made her heart pick up.
His big finger traced the line of her panties. “Lace?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He continued to trail his finger around the band. “What color?”
“Red.”
What sounded like an approving growl broke from his chest as he worked those off of her next.
“I do wish I could see your face,” he said, and hooked her left leg over his shoulder. “Especially when…”
She gasped when his tongue slid along her folds. Her hands flew to the top of his head, and she closed her fists in his thick hair.
“Mmmm,” he moaned against her, sending shivers from her center to her spine. “Should have known you tasted sweet everywhere.” He delivered another long lick from her opening to her clit, and her head lolled back, thumping against the wall behind her. “Like sugar and spice. My own personal candy shop.”
He thrust his tongue inside, and she lost her mind and the ability to breathe. Gone was every other moment or thought beyond Ryder—the strong, sexy man she couldn’t see but wanted to keep tight against her.
She pushed her hips out to meet him. Wanting more. Blindly holding on to him as he delivered wicked kisses to her body.
“You like it deep, sweetness?” he asked.
Her eyes popped open, not that it made a difference since it was pitch black. But she realized she’d been grabbing his hair and throwing her hips into his tongue as if trying to ride him.
“Yes,” she admitted, and she was ready to follow up with an apology for being too rough or demanding, but Ryder spoke first.
“Good,” he growled. He pushed her further against the wall, tossed her other leg over his shoulder, and brought her center flush against his mouth. He was so strong, holding her with his big hands splayed under her ass and the wall for leverage. “Open yourself up for me so I can give it to you deep, the way you like it.”
She’d never felt so tiny or malleable before. He held her like she was nothing more than a delicious drink he was preparing to consume. She reached down and, using two fingers, opened her folds. His mouth was right there to greet her. He buried his entire face between her thighs.
He licked wildly at the sensitive bundle of nerves until she was shaking on the brink of climax. His clean-shaven jaw felt like tiny grains of soft sand gently scratching against her inner thighs as he worked her over. She spread her legs wide, trapped between his mouth and the wall behind her, while he took on the weight of her entire body and her pleasure.
He thrust inside her so thoroughly with his tongue that she rocked form the force. All she could do was clutch his hair and ride his face as that wicked tongue worked its magic. Her heels dug into his back, and the only thing she could do was chant his name and beg for more.
“Oh, God, yes. Please, please, right there,” she moaned, and Ryder just fucked her with his tongue in a way that defied the laws of physics. His strength surrounded her. His mouth consumed her. And she lost every ounce of self-control and gave it up to him.
He kept his tongue within her and shook his head, causing his firm upper lip to brush back and forth against her clit. Sparks flew behind her eyes and violent tingles shot from her toes to her fingertips.
She didn’t just fall over the edge. She was hurled off the cliff, then snapped back by an invisible rope, only to be thrown off again. Never had anything felt so intensely perfect that it bordered on pain.
“Oh, Ryder!” It was all she was able to gasp before her orgasm sent another wave of pleasure over her, hard and fast. Bright lights flashed behind her eyelids, and her entire body broke out in goose bumps, which then melted away from the heat of his touch. Her inner walls shuddered around his tongue, and he swallowed every ounce of bliss he’d coaxed from her. Her feet stung from the aftershocks and it took several tries to finally breathe right.
He let one of her legs come back down to the ground as he lingered between her thighs and delivered light kisses to her skin. He was slowing down, but she was nowhere near done. Not by a long shot.
She was a temptation that he should be struggling to resist, yet every beat of his pulse told him that she'd be worth the sin.
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