Along for the Ride (7 page)

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Authors: Michelle M Pillow

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Along for the Ride
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‘So long as I’m not keeping you from anything,’ Megan said reluctantly. Slowly she stood.
‘Nothing at all.’ Ryan grinned, revealing the full depth of his boyish charm. ‘I’m all yours.’
‘Wonderful,’ Megan drawled, tossing her glass back to finish her drink. Just wonderful.
Megan whistled, waving her arm as a cab sped by, but the car didn’t stop. The street wasn’t as busy as it had been during the day. A few couples walked, arm in arm, through the heavy spotlights of the streetlamps and into the surrounding shadows to fade away.
Her sisters’ cab had just turned the corner and disappeared from view, leaving her alone with Ryan. Megan watched for another cab, but none came. Frowning, she began to walk along the street.
‘What are you doing?’ Ryan asked. ‘I thought I was taking you home.’
‘Listen, buddy, I might be obligated to go along with this, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to ride on the back of your motorcycle.’ Megan paused, shivering as she imagined how it would feel to have his body pressed to hers, her clit vibrating with the purr of the engine until she climaxed. She glanced at the only motorcycle on the street, parked before the building. Green and orange flames were painted over a deep-purple tank. It was a custom bike, one that clearly took many hours and a lot of money to build. Her voice weaker, but still harsh, she continued, ‘And let you take me home so you can fuck me.’
For the briefest of moments, his expression said, ‘Why not?’ but he quickly hid it under a blank mask. ‘Who says I planned on fucking you tonight? Maybe I’m not in the mood, especially after the way you acted all evening.’
‘The way
I
acted?’ Megan gave a short laugh. At least he didn’t try to protest desiring her.
‘I felt you kissing me back.’ Ryan stepped up to her until their bodies were close. His words whispered along her flesh, a teasing caress that left her wanting more. ‘And then you sat there, brooding and distant the whole night. I know you want me. I heard you moan my name.’
Had she said his name? Megan couldn’t remember. How could she deny something she couldn’t recall?
‘I felt you squirm against my cock.’ He grabbed her hip, jerking her hard against him.
Awareness struck her as she felt the stiff press of his erection. There was no family, no watching eyes to stop them this time.
Ryan rocked, moving his hips in a sinfully delicious rhythm. ‘Maybe it’s you who wants to fuck me.’
Megan tried to deny it, but a weak sound left her speechless. A car drove by, only to leave them in silence. She vaguely noticed a group passing in the distance, their bodies small blurry visions along the edge of her sight. The light from her parents’ building outlined his head as he held her. A guard was inside, perhaps watching them even now on his security monitor.
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Ryan’s lids dipped low over his eyes. His hand slid between their bodies, tugging at her jeans until they were unzipped. Megan’s head rolled back as he thrust his fingers forwards, bypassing her cotton panties to delve along her naked sex. Stunned that he’d made such a bold move, she didn’t think to protest. A finger glided between her wet folds, blessedly pushing along her clit in a hard stroke. Her jeans kept him from touching deeper, but he’d found the centre bud and, for the moment, it was enough. Rubbing it in circles, he groaned, ‘Ah, there’s my answer.’
Megan didn’t think, as she acted on pure instinct. Grabbing his shoulders, she thrust her hips forwards only to be rewarded with a deep gratification. Her mouth wide, she breathed heavily, leaning so that their lips nearly touched. She denied her mouth, instead reaching for his waist. Pushing his sweater out of the way, she unbuttoned his pants, tugging violently at them so they unzipped. It was Ryan’s turn to moan as she grabbed his thick cock. Silk boxers caused her hand to glide as she fondled him.
‘Ah, so what are we going to do about this?’ He looked towards the street to where the motorcycle was parked.
Megan pulled away and his hand seemed reluctant to disentangle itself from her jeans. Grabbing his fly, she turned, leading him by his crotch towards a small alley along the side of the building. A combination of wine and passion made her stumble as her knees weakened. She caught herself, walking fast into the shadowed alcove of brick and cement. The place was unromantic, stale and dank and she couldn’t care less. All she knew was Ryan’s nearness, the longing for his kiss, the smell of his cologne.
Stopping a few feet in, where the streetlights didn’t reach, she let go of him. Determined, she pushed her jeans off her hips. They fell to her ankles, trapped by her boots. Her body was so hot she didn’t notice the evening temperature against her naked skin. Ryan made a weak noise, moving as if he would kiss her. But, Megan had other plans. ‘I’ll tell you what we are going to do about this. I’m going to turn around and you’re going to fuck me. Afterwards, we are never going to mention it again.’
Megan turned, not waiting for an answer. Alcohol was thick in her veins, and, though it would be easy to blame her actions on inebriation, she was too pragmatic to lie to herself. She wanted this moment, whatever it was, however unwise.
She spread her legs as wide as she could while pressing her palms flat against the brick wall. Starved for fulfilment, her pussy was wet and ready. Besides, she couldn’t think of any better position given their circumstances. It wasn’t like she would lie on the dirty cement ground.
Ryan came up behind her, his hand stroking her outer thigh moments before the thick probing tip of his erection met her pussy from behind. The back of his hand brushed next to the intimate curve of her ass, as he moved himself along her folds, gliding up and down as he found the perfect angle for entrance.
Suddenly, he thrust, stretching her from behind, his actions as needy and raw as she felt. The position didn’t allow for deep penetration, but that didn’t stop him from withdrawing and pounding forwards with severe force. All her desires centred on her sex, even as her breasts ached to be touched, her body yearned to be free of clothes. The urgency of her need superseded such concerns and she met his hips, pushing back from the wall almost violently.
Heavy grunts sounded over the alleyway. A car passed on the street, briefly illuminating them with its headlights. Megan reached between her thighs, touching her clit, encouraging her body to find release. The arm holding her back from the wall began to sting and her muscles were tired, but she didn’t care. She needed this too badly. It had been so long and she felt as if she might explode.
Megan gave a soft cry, frustrated and excited as she neared her peak. Ryan was holding both hips, moving in and out at a jackrabbit pace.
‘Oh, oh,’ Megan gasped for air. Finally, she met with sweet release as her orgasm caused her to shake. She worked her hands against the uneven wall, holding herself up as she came. Ryan kept moving, pumping in greedy abandonment until finally he grunted, pulling his cock out at the last minute as he spilled his seed along her inner thigh.
His hands fell from her hips and he stumbled back. Panting heavily, Megan reached for her jeans, weakly pulling them up. Only when she was partially dressed, her jeans zipped but not buttoned, did she say, ‘This never happened.’
Her eyes met Ryan’s. His hands stopped moving on his pants and all pleasure faded from his gaze. Megan stumbled towards the street, digging in her pocket and glad that the cash she’d stuck in it was still there and not lost in the alley. Without looking back, she hailed a cab. It stopped and she hurriedly got inside, barking a command at the driver. Only when it turned the corner did she allow herself to relax.
Sex had left her weak, but that wasn’t why she trembled. How could she have given in to temptation? How could she have had sex with Ryan? Why now? After so long knowing him and denying any attraction to him?
‘You all right, ma’am?’ the cabbie asked.
‘Just drive,’ she growled, not wanting to make small talk.
Moodily, she glared out the window. The cityscape zoomed past, but she didn’t see it. No, her mind was still outside her parents’ apartment building, lost in the terrible deeds of what was possibly the biggest mistake of her life.
Ryan watched Megan leave him, not bothering to chase after her. What would he say to her if he did make her stop? Sated flesh did not necessarily make for a satisfied soul. Her cold words left him feeling empty, as did the emotionless way their bodies had joined in loveless passion.
Why had he given in to his desire? Why couldn’t he have held off, seduced her? Why couldn’t he have made her beg for him? Instead, she said fuck and he jumped to it, obeying like the lovesick fool that he clearly was.
‘Nothing is going as planned,’ he said to himself. ‘Damn it, Ryan, you are an idiot.’
Glancing down, he fastened his jeans. The hard press of metal dug into his hip as he walked and he pulled the motorcycle keys from his pocket. Going to the bike, he debated leaving it where it was – in the safe viewing of the security camera outside Megan’s parents’ building. Then again, maybe a ride would do him some good. He could use a clear head.
He climbed on the motorcycle and leant over to stick the key in. It didn’t fit. With a frown, he turned it over and tried again. There were no other bikes around. Ryan groaned. ‘Ah, come on. I don’t need this. Not tonight.’
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ a man yelled. ‘Get off my fuckin’ bike!’
Ryan flinched, instantly swinging his leg back over the motorcycle so he could stand. He turned just in time to see the angry fist that went with the enraged voice. It slammed into his eye, sending him reeling back on to the hard concrete. His neck snapped, shooting pain down his spine. He didn’t move, his body tense as he waited for the beating to continue. The distant sound of annoying female laughter rang over him, followed by the revving of an engine. A strange relief washed over him as tyres squealed and the motorcycle zoomed down the street.
Holding his head, Ryan groaned, pushing up from the sidewalk. Already, the tender flesh around his eye tightened as if beginning to swell. He ran his hands through his hair, glancing back and forth over the street but there wasn’t another cab within view. Somehow, the blackened eye was much easier to bear than Megan’s hurried departure. Grumbling, he said, ‘A perfect end to a fucked-up day. What the hell was I thinking?’
Chapter Four
 
‘Hey, Rya – omigod . . .’ Kat’s words tapered off as she looked at Ryan’s face.
Her hair hung messily around her shoulders and her cheeks were flushed. Since she wore a white lab coat, buttoned all the way down, and was standing barefoot in the long hall leading back to her husband’s office, Ryan could easily guess what she and Dr Richmond had been up to.
Reaching for his cheek, she hesitated. They were too far apart for her to touch him anyway. ‘I can’t believe Megan hit you!’
‘What?’ Ryan automatically lifted his hand to touch the tender skin around his eye. As he’d first suspected, he’d developed a pretty mean bruise.
‘I’m calling her. I guess I knew she would be a little upset, but to beat you up . . .’ Kat frowned. ‘You didn’t hit her back, did you?’
‘You think I could lift a hand to hurt –’
‘You’re right, I’m sorry, you would never hurt Megs.’
‘Kat, no. You have it wrong.’ Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket to toss the motorcycle key in his friend’s direction. She caught it, frowning in confusion. ‘This was a gift from the owner of the motorcycle I tried to ride home last night. Megan took a cab.’
‘Jack hit you?’ Kat’s frown turned into a scowl.
‘I have a feeling it wasn’t your friend’s bike. The key didn’t fit and the owner decked me for trying.’ Ryan gave a short laugh, moving slowly towards her.
Old floorboards creaked beneath his shoes and the musty smell – a combined scent of aged parchment and settled dust – grew stronger.
The DJP Scientific Department of Entomological Research was tucked away between two buildings and nearly impossible to find but for the plaque outside the front door. The small square foyer was empty except for a wooden desk with a borderline antique yellow corded telephone and wooden chair. Kat had decorated the white walls with large photographs of insects and what looked like a close-up of someone’s waxed smarmy moustache. Every time Ryan asked her about the facial hair, she would laugh and change the subject.
‘What kind of bike was it?’
‘Not sure. It was purple, orange and green flamed. Looked like a custom job.’
‘Jack can’t afford a custom job like that. He has one of those old orange ones. I forget what they’re called.’ Kat made a face. ‘And there weren’t any other motorcycles there?’
‘No. Not that I could see.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll have a word with Jack about that.’ Kat’s lips pursed tightly together in anger. ‘So help me, if he forgot . . .’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Ryan dismissed. ‘The walk home actually did me good.’
‘You walked the whole way?’ Kat asked in shock.
‘Not the whole way. I took the subway. For some reason, I couldn’t find a cab. It was the strangest thing.’

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