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“Do you?”
Ryan levels me with a look, serious and stoic. “I think you’re smart.”
Oh.
“Kind. Chaotic. A bit of a smartass and too charming for your own good.”
Oh, wow. I like that answer much more than the one I was expecting, but I divert because his response is far too detailed and knowing of who I am. “So, you don’t think I’m pretty, then.”
He chuckles. “Indy, I’m not blind, but even if I were, I’m pretty sure I could touch your face and understand just how fucking stunning you are, but it’s not the first thing I see anymore.”
Well, fuck me.
Stepping towards him, still blocking the drawer he needs to get into, my breasts press against his stomach, taking away any space between us. He can’t answer a question with that much sincerity after claiming he faked a kiss with me the other night.
I watch his throat bob in a swallow. “What are you doing?”
“Pretending.” I inch into his personal space, snaking my arms over his shoulders, my nails scratching the tight fade around his hairline. “Acting. Just how you pretended the other night when you kissed me.”
“Oh, yeah?” His neck bends, his lips ghosting over my jaw until his forehead falls onto my shoulder. “Mmm, that feels good,” he murmurs into me as I pull him closer.
Acting my ass.
My hips move into his, voluntary or not, I can’t exactly say, but I’m quickly reminded that this man is wearing only a towel.
A gasp escapes me as he easily swoops me up with one arm behind my back, hoisting me on the kitchen counter. Large palms hook under my bare thighs, jerking me towards the edge and while his face is still pressed into the crook of my neck, he spreads my knees apart.
He’s suffocating, crowding me like this, but in the best way possible. I pull back slightly so I can watch the pads of his broad thumbs languidly trace their way up my inner thighs. He takes his time, patient and frustrating as he pushes my legs farther and farther apart. Once he’s halfway up my upper legs, as he dots my throat with warm wet kisses, I close my eyes, head falling back and heat rushing south.
I want him.
I especially want him a few inches north. His thumb preferably, creating stiff little circles.
I’m lost in the feeling, my legs open around him, his breath and mouth on my neck. Involuntarily, my hips grind into the open air, searching for him.
A gentle bite of my ear sends a shockwave to my clit and a moan slips from my lips.
“You don’t want to play this game with me, Blue.” Pulling away, he bops my nose with a spoon. “I will always win.”
He grabs his yogurt once again and heads towards his bedroom.
Looking down, I find the silverware drawer pulled out between my open legs. That motherfucker distracted me and opened the goddamn silverware drawer between my spread thighs.
I’m hot and flustered and kind of pissed off. The audacity of this man to leave me on the counter panting for more. “How are you so certain you’ll win?”
His brows lift, sending me a pointed glance that screams you’re about thirty seconds from coming on the kitchen counter and you think I’d be the first one to cave?
Holding his stare, I don’t accept the silent answer.
Turning away from me, he heads into his room, but before he closes the door behind him, I hear him say, “I’m celibate, that’s why.”
18
RYAN
“Shay, you’re buying right?” Dom shouts from the other end of the table.
I have to laugh to myself because the guy can afford his own dinner just fine if he were the one paying. “Yeah, man.”
