Captive (20 page)

Ryke would be home this afternoon, and I couldn’t wait. I wanted to go shopping, out for dinner, to a movie – anything that would distract me from thinking about my greatest fear.

Traffic crawled. I was about to jump out of my skin by the time I finally punched the gas pedal to descend into our building’s underground parking garage. I parked and flew through the garage like I was being chased. By the time I made it to the elevator, I was panting, and our doorman Rob lowered his brows as he turned the key in the elevator to send it up to our floor.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Ryker. Everything okay?”

I nodded and forced a smile. “Yeah, Rob. How are you?”

“Great. Your husband’s team played quite a game last night.”

“They did.” I smiled. “I bet they were out til the early hours celebrating Luke’s hat trick.”

Rob grinned and shook his head. “That was something to see, alright. I was watching the game with my boys. Have a good afternoon, ma’am.”

“Thanks. You, too.” I let my smile drop away as soon as the elevator doors closed. The ride up to our floor was quick, but I was still able to time two deep inhales and exhales the way Harmony had shown me to calm my pounding heart.

I burst off of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and pushed my key into the front door of the apartment. I shed my coat and bag and ran for the bathroom, unbuttoning and pulling down my jeans to check my panties. Nothing. My chest sagged with relief. No blood.

I pulled my pants off and headed into the bedroom to change clothes for a nap. A break from consciousness was exactly what I needed right now.

Checking my panties for bleeding had become a habit. Every time I looked and didn’t see any, the coiled tension inside me relaxed just a little. I knew this pregnancy was probably as doomed as the others, but until I saw blood, I was harboring a shred of hope.

I didn’t feel like I had a baby growing inside me. It was more like I had a chance at one. When I heard our adoption plans were moving forward, the same feeling took root in me. That maybe this could actually happen. This feeling wasn’t as jubilant as when I thought we were adopting. It was buried by a heavy mountain of anxiety and doubt.

The hope had taken root, all right, but it was precarious. It would’ve probably dwindled and died by now if it wasn’t being nurtured by Ryke. He was my hope’s water and sunshine. Every time he called and asked how I was feeling in a low, tender tone he didn’t let the other guys overhear, or let his hand slide over my stomach when we were snuggling in bed, a flicker inside me said this was still possible. Unlikely, sure, but not a done deal yet.

I was Jason Ryker’s wife, and I wanted to be a strong, resilient fighter like him. But hope was a dangerous thing after the deep, life-changing disappointment I’d been crushed by. What got me through was remembering that this wasn’t the end. We’d still be able to adopt. I could live through hell one last time by holding on to that knowledge.

For now, I had to survive the gut-wrenching, hourly worry that this would be the time I’d see the blood. I thought about it every morning on the way to the bathroom. When I woke up in the night, I reached between my thighs to check for wetness. Every day that I got through this nightmare made me think maybe I was a fighter after all. If this wasn’t a fight, I couldn’t imagine what was.

We were in the arena Ryke’s team played in. I’d gotten a glance of illuminated white ice before I tipped my head back against the Plexiglass wall that surrounded the rink. How many times had I seen my husband slam players against this wall and pummel them with his powerful body?

And now it was my turn. My only wish as he plowed himself between my spread thighs was that I could open them wider. It was bliss, being pinned against the wall and feeling him move in and out of me with force that I felt from my head to my toes.

My lips wouldn’t work to tell him how good it was, but he seemed to know. He went faster, harder, and the build of satisfaction rising inside me was perfect and deep. He didn’t say anything, either, but I felt my name on his lips and the wave of emotion flooding from him into me as he pulled back one last time. This would be it, for both of us. As soon as his hips flexed into me this time, I’d slip over the edge into sweet oblivion – the place only he could bring me.

I opened my eyes and threw the covers off. I was hot. Really hot. I figured it was just the warmth of my bed until I shifted and the throbbing between my legs reminded me of the dream I’d been having.

I shook my head and got out of bed. My libido had taken over my dreams lately. I was like a porn star on overdrive, even when I was awake.

Heavy footsteps going into the kitchen made me realize the noise of Ryke coming home had probably woken me up from my afternoon nap. I went into the closet, looking for pants, but then remembered it was Saturday and Mimi wasn’t here. More clothes were the last thing I wanted in my sweaty state.

“Hey,” I said to Ryke’s back when I walked into the kitchen. He was looking through the contents of the refrigerator.

“Hey,” he said, reaching into the fridge for something. When he turned and glanced at me, he did a double take, his gaze bouncing back to my bare thighs. I was wearing one of his old jerseys, which hung down past my ass but still left plenty to look at.

I eyed the lunchmeat and cheese on our kitchen island. “Want me to make you a sandwich?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The tension between us lately was painful. Every time I thought of words to apologize for pushing him away, they seemed meaningless. Our phone conversations during the road trip he was getting home from had been short and polite.

“How’s your shoulder?” I asked, remembering the hit he’d taken in last night’s game. Watching it on TV, I’d covered my mouth in horror as he curled up in pain after being shoved from his feet and landing shoulder-first on the ice.

He reiterated his words from our phone conversation the night before. “I’m okay.”

I opened the fridge and leaned in, searching for the spicy mayo he liked on sandwiches. He was staring at me when I turned to make his sandwich.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. I sighed and looked at him.

“Alright. I’m glad you’re home.”

His face softened and he walked over, reached around my waist and pulled my back against his chest. His rigid body against mine made me tingle with awareness. I set the knife down and turned, wrapping my arms around his waist and letting the curves of my body settle into his.

He let his head fall on top of mine, and I felt him smelling my hair. The tenderness of the gesture set me on fire. Despite my imperfections, he was still mine. He was coming home to me. I pushed my hands under the bottom of his shirt, letting my fingers roam the defined lines of his solid back. He stiffened slightly and I froze.

“Are my hands cold?” I spoke against his chest.

“No, it feels good.”

His encouragement sent my hands higher, and I ran my nails over his skin and gripped his shoulders. His groan vibrated against my chest, and I slid my hands down again, beneath the waistband of his jeans.

He let his hands explore me, too, and I moaned when he cupped my ass in his large, all-encompassing grip. I pushed myself against him tighter, hoping to encourage his erection, which was growing against my stomach. He squeezed my ass hard and it about undid me. I positioned myself so I could rub the heat between my legs against his thigh, and the friction felt so delicious I moaned every time I felt it.

“I need you so bad,” I said, unable to look at him. There was a hint of shame in my tone.

“That’s a good thing, baby,” he said, sounding amused. “I need you, too.”

“No, I mean … all the time. I was just dreaming you were doing me against the wall at the rink. And I fantasized yesterday during group counseling that your game would be cancelled and you’d walk into the apartment and bend me over the kitchen table.”

“Mmm. I’m trying to see a problem here, but I’ve got nothing. I fantasize about you all the time, too.”

I was getting close to coming on his leg, which made me feel like a dog in heat. I pulled back and looked at him.

“I mean
all the time
,” I said. “When we woke up the other morning and I knew you were leaving, I wanted you to want me so bad. I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life. It’s kind of uncomfortable sometimes.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he furrowed his brows in a serious look. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I flushed and shook my head. “It’s embarrassing, having to ask you. I thought that if you wanted it—”

“Baby, I want it.” He cupped my face in his hands and raised it toward his. “I want it so bad I’ve got a raging case of blue balls. I just didn’t know, because things have been off lately with you getting pregnant and being upset.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know. And it’s crazy, being sad one second and feeling like a nymphomaniac the next.”

“As much as I want to, I can’t help you with everything you’re going through,” Ryke said, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “But an appetite for lots of sex I can absolutely handle.”

Against my will, my nipples tightened at his words. “It’s not just lots of sex,” I admitted. His playful grin faded.

“What, then? Something I can’t fix?” His jaw tightened and I cringed at his hurt expression.

“No, it’s not that.” I pressed my palms to his chest and looked away.

“Kate.” He spoke firmly. “Don’t hold out on me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

I took a deep breath, hoping he meant it. “I’ve been fantasizing about being used by you. About you coming and not letting me.”

His eyes narrowed skeptically. “Won’t that just frustrate you more?”

“It makes me hot in the dreams I’ve had. You just come up behind me and … do it. Really hard. And you love it, and that’s what makes me hot. Sometimes you just … jerk off on me.”

My cheeks were warm, even though I was talking to my own husband. I’d always been a vanilla girl, and I was embarrassed about the secret fantasies I’d been having.

Ryke looked into my eyes, seeming to consider what I’d said. “So it makes you hot in the dreams. But if I jerked off on you right now, would that turn you on?”

“It … might,” I said, trying to imagine it. Cool air against my stomach made me gasp. Ryke was pulling the jersey I wore up over my head, and I raised my arms to help him. He tossed it to the floor and looked me over, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I’ll fuck you hard,” he said, tracing a thumb over my lips. “From behind if that’s how you want it. I’ll come wherever you want me to. But then we’re moving on to
my
fantasy.”

I swallowed, hot desire for him pooling between my thighs. He took a step back and moved his hands to his sides. His gaze roamed my body slowly and deliberately. Stopping at my breasts, moving down my stomach, stopping again at my silky black panties. Then it travelled down my legs to my feet.

My chest rose and fell heavily. Being caressed by his eyes was more sensual than being touched by his hands. He reached out and gently splayed his palm against my belly.

“I love you so much, Kate,” he said, his voice deep and husky. “I never even knew it was possible to feel like this. I’d do anything –
anything
– for you and our baby.”

My desire receded a little at the mention of the thing I was trying not to think about. He slowly moved his hand higher, stopping between my breasts.

“I know I let you down,” I said softly. “I pushed you away. I’m sorry. I love you the same way, Ryke. You’re my everything, and I’d do anything for you.”

His eyes lit up and he moved his hand higher again, his long fingers wrapping around the back of my neck while he stroked his thumb across my jaw line.

“Will you try, then? Please? For me?” The pleading in his tone wrenched at my heart. I knew what he meant. He wanted me to try to love this baby inside me; to hope for it in spite of my previous heartbreak. And I didn’t even have to think before answering, though it was the most difficult thing anyone had ever asked of me.

“Yes. I’ll try.”

His smile of relief melted me. When he stepped closer, the fire of desire was back in his eyes. He bent down and flicked his tongue over one of my nipples, his hand sliding down my back and beneath the waistband of my panties.

He reached for my wet nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. My eyes fluttered closed as he increased the pressure, euphoria flooding me. He lowered his mouth to the other one, licking it gently and then closing his teeth around it.

My mouth fell open, a beat of silence followed by a cry of ecstasy. “Ryke! I think I’m about to come…”

He released my nipples and wrapped a hand around his bulging erection. “Jesus, baby, I’ve neglected you if just that’s enough.”

“No,” I said, the word coming out in a pant. “It’s my hormones. I’m so horny, all the time.”

“I plan to spend all afternoon taking care of that. And you’d better fucking tell me every time you want it from now on. Satisfying you is my job, and I take my work very seriously.”

I pushed my hips up onto the kitchen island. “Right here,” I said. “Take me right here.”