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There’s tension in the air that crackles with electricity, just waiting to be cut when we get home, and it has me fidgeting in my seat as he pulls onto the highway. I try to put all my focus out the window, watching the cars pass us by, but I’m keenly aware of the way he runs small circles along my thigh.
He’s still got his fingers threaded through mine as he does this, making the action more intimate than it should be, and I wonder what’s going through his head. Ryker didn’t seem as worried as I was about the picture being leaked, but is that because it’s not his career that will be in jeopardy in the long run?
Is this all a game to him?
Maybe he’s too focused on himself, and I’m getting blinded by the good guy act he’s putting on.
No, he wouldn’t do that to me.
I blow out a rough breath, which in turn causes Ryker to give my thigh a gentle squeeze of reassurance, and he clears his throat. “Are you okay?”
“Aside from the possibility of losing my job? I’m great,” I mumble.
“We’ll figure it out, alright?” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I guess it’s not for him. His career will never be ruined, and no one will ever think poorly of him. “Maybe they didn’t take a picture of us, and you’re thinking too much about it.”
Maybe he’s right, and my mind is playing tricks on me, seeing things that aren’t there.
“Right.”
“Let’s go somewhere less crowded tonight. Get your mind straight. Does that sound okay?”
“Sure.”
If I’m being truthful, there’s not much that I want to do right now. Going back to his place feels odd, knowing that this could be the last time I walk through the front door, and going anywhere else with him feels like I’m just begging to ruin my life.
Either way, I lose this battle.
My shoulders slump forward in relief as he removes his hand from my thigh and puts both onto the steering wheel – at least, this gives me some much-needed breathing room. I can think much straighter when he’s not touching me, but I don't miss the voice in my head silently begging him to put his hand back on me.
This should be fun.
19
Ryker
There’s a club I know of from the few times I’ve vacationed here over the years, and it’s the best option for us if we want a shred of privacy while also being out in public. It’s an establishment that caters to celebrities each weekend, so the chances that we get caught together are less likely.
At least they’ve got great food.
Wren walks confidently through the entrance of the club, the dress I got her clinging to her like a second skin, and I place my hand on the small of her back protectively as we make our way through the crowded room. There’s sweaty bodies in every direction, some already drunker than they should be at ten at night, and others having the time of their lives without almost falling over in the process.
I lead Wren over to the bar, keeping her close to me as we order our drinks and wait for them to be made. A few people stare at me, but they don’t seem as though they’re going to make a scene, and that has me sighing with relief. “Are you a dancer?”
“I’m… something,” Wren says over the music, her chuckle being heard against the loud bass surrounding us.
“Does that mean dancing is out of the question?”
She shakes her head and smirks. “Can’t promise it will be the best, but I’ll try.”
A few of the guys near us turn their heads in Wren’s direction, eyeing her appreciatively from a distance, and I pull her closer to me so that they understand who she’s here with. She’s mine, I want to tell them – I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t make Wren feel any better from earlier today.
When we get onto the crowded dance floor, the air swirling with the scent of sweat and alcohol that’s been spilled on the floor, I wrap an arm around her waist and tug her into my chest from behind. She pauses for a moment, her eyes darting around like she’s expecting someone to be spying on us, then finally relaxes into me and moves along to the beat of the music.
Her body is tense, like doing this is uncomfortable for her, and I’m more than prepared to take her back over to the bar if that’s what she wants. I follow her movements slowly, guiding her in the right direction, and that helps her get more into the rhythm. As the bass thumps around us, carrying loudly through the building, she shakes her ass against the front of my pants eagerly.
I harden immediately – how could I not when she’s damn near impossible to ignore? She could do nothing but stand in front of me, and all the blood would rush straight to my cock. It’s not just about her body, though.
Ever since I met her, standing on my front porch like she was meant to be there all along, there’s been this gentle way in which she’s approached me. It’s different from what others have done. I’m used to people being scared of me, or backing away like I’m going to lose my shit, but that’s not what Wren has done in all the days she’s been here.
