Fading Out (18 page)

Not giving her the chance to dispute my claim, I release her only long enough to use my knees to spread her legs farther apart, then I’m on my back, beneath her, tearing her pink panties apart at the hip. They give easily with a
snap
.

“Ryder…?”

But her breathy sentence is cut short as I lower her down on top of me and take her in my mouth. I wanted to taste her so badly at the beach—I wanted to do everything to her body; see, taste, touch—but she took that shit from me that night. She came on strong and drove me to the brink, where all I could do was give her what she demanded.

Now, I want to tease the pleasure out; make it last, slow and long, till she’s peaked. Then bring her there again and again. It’s completely selfish. Because I want to be the one she thinks of when she’s turned on—the best she’s ever had.

Cocky or not, I’m going to satisfy Ari until I’m the only thought left in her pretty little head.

Her thighs quiver beneath my grasp as I swirl my tongue around her slit and then suck hard once, making her hands find purchase against the wall. As I move one hand over to insert a finger, she loses balance and grabs my hair.

“I can’t… You have to be inside me. Now.”

Her plea is so fucking sexy, I’m more than tempted. But I’m too focused on making her mine to give in, and push farther into her, massaging her throbbing center as my tongue hits the sensitive spot of her clit that’s making her thighs tremble.

As her hips rock, her body guiding my movements, demanding release, I clasp her around her waist. My cock is thick and hard and straining achingly against my jeans. But she’s so close; I can feel the need thrumming through her body with every swirl of my tongue, every caress of my fingers—then she tenses, and a rush of adrenaline goes right to my cock.

She moans out my name, and her walls clench around my fingers as a violent shiver takes her body. I push my fingers in farther and work the throb until she’s breaking around me, her heavy breaths heightening my need for her.

When she bucks her hips against the aftershocks of her orgasm, I pull her down on top of me, wrapping my arms around her damp body. She reaches up and removes the band from her hair, letting her destroyed ponytail free. Her scent fills my nose as her hair falls around my face.

She moves to run her hand along my chest, working her way down…but I clasp it still on my stomach. “I need a minute,” I say. If I don’t calm down, I’m going to fuck her hard and raw. I’m so attuned to her, so turned on, that I’ll just relinquish all control—and I need some level of it right now. The night at the beach leveled me; I can’t lay myself out on the altar like that again.

She raises her head and catches my gaze, a knowing look pulling at the corners of her mouth. Then, as if she wants to just pull the trigger and kill me now, she brushes her lips against mine, tasting herself on me. And I’m through.

My heart ramps, beating wildly against my chest wall, an ache scorching me from the inside out. My hands go to her face, needing to keep her there. She begins to grind her bared pussy against my aching dick, and a hoarse groan expels from my mouth.

But no, I’m not letting her take that shit again. I’m going to have her fully naked, skin-to-skin, letting me ravish every inch of her. With hurried movements, we make quick work of losing our clothes. I strip her of her thermal; she tears at the buttons of my shirt. Her skirt is lost to the floor as I push her back on her knees and wriggle it down her thighs and toss it aside. My jeans are discarded right along after she frees my zipper and hauls them down. Then she’s taking me in her hands, both of them, and my eyes close on a hiss.

Kneeling before her, my muscles strained and my jaw locked, I feel my balls tighten as she strokes me from root to head. My eyes open, my gaze flicks to her heated eyes, filled with want. Her round breasts heavy, silky pink nipples peaked, are begging for my attention. Her breastbone betrays the stress she’s under—from her parents, school, maybe even possibly me; though I’m not that vain to believe I measure up in her world—as they protrude over the swell of her breasts.

But it’s not enough to take away from her beauty; only make me desire her all the more, wanting to shelter her from the world that wants to destroy her. Before I can lose myself in the sensation devastating me at the feel of her gripping my cock, I pull her to me and kiss her lips. Softly, tenderly, letting my feelings for her melt through her with each sweep of my tongue.

Grabbing the backs of her thighs, I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me. I cradle her against me, moving my palms desperately over her body until they’ve found her shoulders, then I’m bringing her down hard against me.

A fierce shudder of pure bliss racks me as her wet, slick lips slide sensually along the shaft of my cock. God, but I would die to be inside her—just like this. No barrier between us. But then I really would be lost. I’ve never felt that with any girl before, and Ari would end me—needing her to be the last.

I hold her back as I ease us to the bed, pressing her into the mattress, as if the solid object beneath us will get her that much closer to me. My mind is spinning, her scent and soft skin draining me of any willpower.

As I reach over to my nightstand, she stills beneath me, and a shot of alarm fires through my awareness. I pull back to look at her.

Her gaze dances over my face. “You have to promise me something,” she says, her voice cracking at the end.

If she thinks there’s anything I wouldn’t vow to her in this moment, she obviously doesn’t realize how much she’s infected me—how much she owns me. In answer, I kiss her. Softly brushing my lips against hers.

Her quick inhale steals over me with dread. “Let me trust you, believe in you, for however long this lasts. I don’t expect a commitment, because that would be the ultimate hypocrisy on my part…” She trails off. “But I need to at least believe I’m not a conquest.”

I part my lips to say all the things that will chase away her doubt, every profession that this is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, and that I’m scared shitless, too—but she breaks my thoughts apart with, “And you can’t fall for me.”

My mouth clamps shut. I can’t make that promise, because that was a done deal the second she looked at me with those bottomless amber eyes. I have to give her something, though. Anything that will alleviate the fear I see in those eyes right now.

“And yet I’ve fumbled the whole way,” I say, giving her a cocky grin. It works, and she smiles, her body vibrating beneath me as she releases a throaty laugh. I run my thumb along her cheek, saying, “Rather, how about this. I’ll only fall as far as you do.”

As soon as it leaves my mouth, I regret it. It was meant as a dare; but it’s more than clear my feelings for her run deeper than hers for me. And though I’m pretty confident in my abilities to get the job done where most girls are concerned, Ari is not most girls—I’m in over my head with her. Not sure if I can win her completely over before her family steals her away. Before some douchebag is putting a ring on her finger. The thought has me furrowing my brows, and Ari reaches up to smooth her thumb between the crease.

“I want to make this last as long as I can with you,” she says, revealing nothing, but bringing me back to the now with her. I cover her mouth with mine, desperate to seal the deal between us.

And as I enter her, driving deep and going long, the outside world and its threats against us fall away. My aim is to bring her there with me, infuse her with the same shattering need she’s consumed me with. But as I groan and release deep inside her, her body pulsing with a sweet ache that hugs me tightly, I know I’m far, far more gone.

I
’m so stupid happy
.

I keep writing similar things in the margin of my literature themes notebook. Along with doodling Ryder’s name and mine in different combinations—like I’m sixteen and lovesick—I can’t suppress the need to express this feeling of pure bliss.

Even Becca’s call can’t put me in my usual anxiety laden mood. I continue to scrawl my little thoughts down my paper as she drones on about the Reilly’s upcoming dinner party. Which, my father convinced his longtime friends to host at his place. Becca is in party planning heaven. Since the charity banquet, my father’s fears over the audit and how it will affect his firm have been assuaged. For the most part, thanks to Mr. Reilly, himself—the business merger doing exactly what my father predicted.

I should feel suffocated, and fearful, but I’m smiling while Becca reminds me that I’m required to attend this weekend. My father won’t take no for an answer this time.

“Lucas has been asking after you nonstop. He even asked your father your ring size,” she says. That catches my attention, and I sit up and toss the notebook aside. “You made a real impression on him, regardless of that gown. Oh, but I have the perfect dress for you! You need to try it on and let Greta take some measurements first, though. No surprises, right?”

I shake my head, trying to focus on what she said amid that rant. “What are you talking about? I only danced with him once, and it was like, two seconds at the end of a song.”

She picks up like she never lost steam on the topic. “You two have known each other your whole lives, Ari. Just be grateful he cares nothing about the Dartmouth scandal.” She sighs heavily. “Honestly, we couldn’t hide it from everyone. But Lucas is so taken with you. It’s adorable. Like you’ve both been engaged since you were little.” She squeals. “Oh! Maybe that’s what we’ll tell the press. But anyway, don’t be surprised if he proposes at the dinner. Just be prepared. Your father’s gone all out for this occasion.”

Vee walks into our room and it’s my chance to get far away from this conversation. “Becca, I have to go. Vee needs my help with something.” Vee’s eyebrows shoot up, and I wave my hand.

“Fine,” Becca concedes. “Email your father. He’s been worried about you.” Then she ends the connection.

I let the phone drop to my lap and then run my hands over my face, groaning. “God, someone give that woman a Valium.”

Vee laughs. “You’re not the only daughter to utter those words.” She plunks down beside me, and I peek at her through the slats of my fingers. She’s smiling so wide, I know I have to ask.

“What now?” Her and Gavin have been spending nearly as much time together as Ryder and I over the past few weeks. I rarely get to hang out with her outside of our room, boosters, and at lunch, but even that’s spent with the guys. We’re totally ridiculous. Like obsessed high school girls all about our boyfriends.

Only, I’ve been reluctant to give into that label completely. Ryder has pressed it a couple of times, wanting to place a title on what we are, but I can’t do that to him. It’s not fair. Not when Becca is practically already planning place settings for my wedding.

At that thought, my chest twinges with panic. Its icy fingers slither down my spine. Can Lucas really be falling for our parents’ bullshit? I thought…I don’t know. When he never contacted me, that maybe it was all my father’s wishful prodding. That if I just waited it out long enough, even my father would realize this was sheer lunacy. Then I’d have more time.

More time
.

I believed I could live a carefree moment with the college playboy. Just push all future worries aside and be with the hotness of my dreams. And I was steeling myself for the second Ryder got bored; when he was content with his successful conquest and ready to mount another.

I’ve tried to keep the line clear, but with each passing day, that line is becoming more and more blurred. I thought I needed that defining line drawn for myself—to keep from getting hurt. Stephan betrayed me on a deep level, and I cared for him, but my feelings for him were nothing compared to how deeply and irrevocably I’ve lost my heart to Ryder.

Oh God, but I’ve made a huge mistake. For the both of us.

“That boy loves you,” Vee says, breaking right into my thoughts, as if she’s reading them clearly on my face.

My eyes widen. “I thought we were talking about you?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “We weren’t talking at all. You were getting that dumb look on your face you always get when you’re thinking of The Ryde.”

Ugh, but I still hate that name—even though I cannot deny its accuracy. Just remembering the last heated night I spent with Ryder has me aching so good between my thighs. And it’s all for me. He’s more than given up his past rep, laid it at my feet like an offering. How am I going to breathe? How am I going to do one menial thing ever again when this all ends?

And maybe soon.

“You need to tell your dad it’s the twenty-first century, and that you’re going to marry whoever you damn well please. But not until like, you’re forty.” She rolls her shoulders, getting all riled. Like she always does when it comes to anything to do with my family matters.

“Yeah,” I say, shifting to lie against my pillow. “Because that won’t spur the apocalypse into motion.” I laugh, trying to make light of the very serious atmosphere creeping over us, but she only glares at me. “Look, even if it comes to that, it’s way too early, anyway. Ryder and I could be through next week. Hell, maybe tomorrow or today. You know how college romances go.”

And, oh, I totally regret my words as soon as the dumb things tumble from my lips. Her shoulders hunch, and her features shutter. “You’re right. Of course. It’s dumb to get all stupid over a guy so quickly.”

“Vee, I in no way meant you and Gavin.” I take her hand and give it a pump. “You’ve known him for years…you’ve known what you’ve wanted longer than anyone else I know. You deserve to be happy with him, and it’s very real between you two.”

She smiles wanly. “Thanks. Yeah, I think he’s getting more serious about us.” Her smile stretches, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. She’s been so committed to this ideal Gavin, for so long, that the doubt that he could ever reciprocate her feelings has festered into a tangible fear within her.

I think sometimes we can build ourselves up so high that the letdown is inevitable. That’s why I’m desperately trying to keep my expectations with Ryder within reasonable perspective. He’s going off to the pros. He has this whole other life waiting for him, ready to take him away from here, and I’m stuck. Not budging an inch from where I’m firmly rooted with my obligations and expectancies as the lone, single Wyndemere.

“Let’s get out of here,” I tell her. “Seriously. All this mush is starting to make my stomach ill.” She laughs and heads to the closet to grab her jacket. But I’m secretly relieved that my statement is actually false.

I’ve been doing decidedly well lately. Granted the stress has eased (before this morning, that is) in my life exponentially, but regardless, that has never helped in the past. I’d been worried Ryder would figure something out with how much time we’ve been spending together. Dreading that awful moment where I’d have to bare my dirty secret…but that conversation might never have to happen.

There’s no sense in telling him now, dropping a bomb like that, only to cause him worry. It would be all drama and the concern would be unnecessary, anyway. Besides, I
am
getting better. Every morning I wake feeling a little stronger than the day before, ready to conquer the next twenty-four hours.

I’ve leapt beyond baby steps.

Though I know I’m not supposed to depend on outside influences to lean against—to boost my confidence and garner security from—I know that Ryder has been that change. He looks at me and I just don’t feel beautiful, I
believe
I’m beautiful. Seeing myself through his eyes is like an awakening in my soul. But it’s more than superficial, more than skin-deep; every bit of me is uniquely perfect for him. That’s how he makes me feel. As if all my imperfections were just puzzle pieces waiting to find their home in order to complete one brilliant masterpiece.

I hold that revelation close, guarding it with a fierceness, as I follow Vee out. I push the stressful conversation with Becca to the foreground, burying my sense of unease beneath my anticipation to be with Ryder.

“
H
ow do
you manage anything with those tiny hands?” Ryder says, chuckling.

I slap at his hard bicep before he captures my hand and attempts to splay my fingers over the football again. “They work just fine for me, thank you,” I say, affecting a serious tone.

“They work just fine for me, too.” His gaze hoods, snagging my attention away from the ball. Then he brushes a feather light kiss along my forehead. I lean into him, pressing my back against his chiseled chest, loving how his body folds around mine like a shield.

The crash of the ocean cocoons us, the sun hidden beneath gray clouds, casting the beach in sharp contrasting, winter tones. As the wind sends my hair across my face, I nod to the outstretched ball in our linked hands. “I thought you were going to teach me how to throw a ball,” I tease.

I feel Ryder’s diverted attention against my backside; the intensity between us sparking and igniting our desire whenever we’re close. He sighs heavily and shifts his focus to the football.

“Why are we out here in the freezing elements again? I mean, instead of somewhere warm and soft where I can take you five different ways before we’re dragged out tonight.” He mock sighs.

“You promised to teach me your legendary pass skills,” I say, shoring up my bravado. I turn to liquid every time he even hints to sexy times, and I really did want to get to know this side of him better before I lose all coherency to his hotness.

With a groan that sends a ripple of want through me, he curls his fingers around mine, repositioning my grip on the ball, and cocks our arms back. “Anything that puts this fine ass up against me, you won’t hear me complain.” Then he instructs me when to release as he launches the ball.

I watch it spiral into the air, sailing long and far (though nothing compared to what I witness when he’s out on the field), before it lands and tumbles down the beach. But as impressed as I am, I was already over the lesson, my need quickening, when he gripped my hip and clutched me to him as he sent it sailing.

God, but I could tackle him right here and just tear at those annoying layers of clothes. Turning in his arms, I link my arms around his neck. “That is so hot,” I say, and totally mean it.

One eyebrow cocked, he pulls me closer, his crooked smile stealing my breath. “I thought you were above all that groupie shit.”

“I’m
the
groupie,” I stress. “I’m allowed to fangirl all over you if I want.”

His big hands grab my ass as he bends at the knees and dips his lips to my neck. “Damn…” His deep voice rumbles against my skin, sending a quake through my body. “Keep talking like that, and I won’t have a choice but to make every touchdown pass in record time.”

It’s playful banter, I know—but there’s a current of truth streaming beneath his teasing admission. Pulling back enough to look into his eyes, I say, “Do you really want to give it up?”

His irises are arctic blue against the gray backdrop of the dreary beach. His eyes squint, but not in their cute way; in a way I know he’s considering my question seriously. “If it came down to a choice, I would.”

I let the vagueness of that statement go, and instead say, “Just for you. Nothing or no one else. What do you want, Ryder?”

His grip on me tightens, and he releases a low groan on an exhale. “I want to play. I do. Badly. But it’s not that simple. I want the freedom to play the game for myself without the background noise.” He gives his head a quick shake. “Some days it’s just too complicated. Am I allowed not to know the right answer to that?”

I open my mouth, but halt. Think a second longer before I respond. Then, holding his disarming gaze, I say, “Yes. But I think it’s something you should figure out before you go all the way to the pros. Don’t you?”

He nods simply. “You think I’m taking it for granted.”

My head jerks back. “What? No! Nothing like that.” I lower my arms to wrap them around his waist, hooking my thumbs through his belt loops. “I just…I want you to be sure. To know exactly why you’re playing, and for it to ultimately be for you—whatever you decide.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he says, “I know one thing I want for sure.” His whispered words send heat rippling across my lips. His sentiment goes right to my heart, making it stutter.

“Well, yeah. That’s an easy one when you’re practically grinding against me.” I play off the intensity I hear in his voice. But the damage is done; I want him to
want
me. And to never stop.

“You have a sassy mouth, you know that?” He wriggles my hips, making my body do exactly what I just accused.

“What are you going to do about it?” I dare.

He lifts his head and stares out over the ocean. “I think you need to cool off before you drive me insane. I see another dip in the ocean taking place really soon.”

“Oh…you wouldn’t—” I squeal as he dips down and scoops me into his arms. “Ryder! I swear… If you throw me in that freezing water…”

“Oh, please, threaten me, baby. With all your dirty words.” He carries me in his arms across the beach, and I helplessly wrap my arms around his neck. Clinging to him. If I go in, he’s coming with me.

But then another, better idea hits me, and I wriggle until I’ve twisted myself around him, and he has no choice but to hold me as I lock my legs around his waist. I seal his mouth with mine, and he stops walking. Soon, I feel the sand beneath me as he lowers us to the ground. My hands go to his hair, reveling in the softness of his thick layers. His strong, hard body pins mine to the earth in a dominant move to gain back control, but I’m more than ready to relinquish it to him.

He kisses a blazing trail along my jaw. “You fight dirty,” he says against my skin.