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Ryder Raines looking for love? The notion stirs something daring within me. It feels ludicrous, really, considering the leagues separating us. He's a tangle of muscle and authority; and me—I'm more pixie than alarm.
I let out a chuckle. What has Mom and Dad always encouraged me to do? Go and chase down every single dream, no matter how far it seems to sprint away. Ryder, with his rugged jawline and those eyes, he's the kind of dream that keeps you up at night.
A flush creeps up my neck at the image of Ryder leaning against the bar, throwing me that smirk he often has on his face.
God, that man’s totally out of your league. Maybe so, but since when do I play by the rules?
My skin prickles with awareness, every nerve ending alight with the thought of him.
With a shake of my head, I push away from the counter. I need to get ready for work, but the thought of seeing him again is intoxicating.
I kick off my shoes and drop my bag on the floor with a satisfying thud. My body is hot and bothered, and my skin thrums with an energy that demands to be released. I make a beeline for my bed, kneeling to retrieve the worn shoebox tucked away beneath it. It's a hidden treasure trove for when the nights of longing becomes too much.
The lid comes off with a gentle tug, and there they are: my toys, my silent partners in this dance of fantasy. My fingers skim over the different smooth surfaces, each one promising a different kind of escape. Tonight, there's only one I crave. It’s a sleek, dark blue vibrator that thick and will jit it just the right place.
I clutch it like it's the lifeline it is, I sink onto the edge of the bed. I don't bother with undressing completely; time is not a luxury I have right now. I flick my dress up and lower my panties.
The toy feels cool against my heated flesh, but as I begin to slide it between my wet folds, it warms. I close my eyes, switching it on, a soft purr of vibration coming to life in my hand. The sensation is immediate with a bolt of pleasure that has me biting back a groan. However, it's not enough. Not yet.
I coax my mind to drift to that place where fantasy blurs with reality.
Only a moment later, I'm there, in the middle of a scene from my favorite hockey book.
I’m in the Renegades locker room just after Ryder’s game. He and I are alone, but I can imagine I hear the distant echo of cheers, and the resonant baritones of victorious men. None of that matters because he's there. Ryder, the captain and star player, or at least the version of him that haunts my dreams. His body is still humming from the game, and his eyes are alight with that same hunger that gnaws at me now.
I angle the toy, pressing it where I need it most, and the images become more vivid.
He's walking toward me, that predatory grace of his making my heart stutter. There's no preamble, no coy words exchanged. It’s just the raw need that propels him forward, his hands finding my skin with a desperation mirroring my own.
"Fuck," I whisper into my empty room, the word a plea as the pressure builds. I move the toy in earnest now, chasing the high, the sweet unraveling that's just within reach.
Ryder has me pinned beneath him on a padded trainer’s table. His touch brands me, igniting every nerve ending as he pushes his hard length inside my pussy, and his mouth trails hot kisses down my neck. Ryder moves with a purpose to claim what’s his.
"Jayden," he growls. He sees me for who I truly am. He sees not just the bright smiles and easy laughter but the woman aching for someone to share life with.
"Ryder," I gasp out, clinging to the edges of control. The tension coils tighter, a delicious agony, and I'm so close, teetering on the brink.
My back arches, making me lean back from my seated position as an exquisite release shatters through me. His name is a chant on my lips as I come undone.
After a few deep breaths in, my breathing returns to somewhat normal as I stand. My shaky legs betray the intensity of my release, but there's work to be done.
Chapter 4
Ryder
The night air is cool as I step onto the deck of the Match Me Bunny yacht that’s docked at Love Beach Yacht Club at Passion Cove, courtesy of an invite from Jimmy. My dress shoes knock against the polished wood, and there’s an allure of what's happening on this floating paradise that has me on edge.
I'm not one for the socialite circus, but tonight, I'm playing the part. The yacht is a maze of luxury, and I navigate through clusters of people laughing a little too loudly and sipping champagne from fancy flutes. My eyes scan the room, not really knowing what I’m searching for, or so I tell myself.
"Ryder Raines, Captain of the Charleston Renegades, in the flesh." A man claps me on the shoulder, and I turn to face him with a half-cocked smile.
"Only on days ending with 'y'," I quip, taking his offered handshake. He's someone from the upper crust, another suit in a sea of them, but his grip tells me he's not afraid to get his hands dirty.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, a knowing twinkle in his eye.
"About as much as a wolf at a rabbit party," I reply, reveling in the private joke about the yacht's name. My answer earns a chuckle before he's swept away by a passing waiter with a tray of hors d'oeuvres.
I drift through the lounge. Women in dresses that cling to curves they're not shy about flaunting throw coy glances my way. I meet their eyes and offer them a smirk.
