by Nicola Marsh
Ryder slid an arm around Polly’s waist and tugged her close. ‘I can help you choose the other five. Putting them on, taking them off...’
Polly elbowed him away and cleared her throat. ‘I’ll call you to arrange another time.’
‘Fine,’ Caitlyn said, sounding decidedly huffy as she gathered up her paraphernalia like an expert magician stuffing tricks back into several cases.
Polly stifled a giggle as Ryder pulled ridiculous faces behind her back, knowing she’d done the right thing in inviting him over. Spending a few hours having mind-blowing sex would be better than dwelling on her burgeoning crush and what the hell she was going to do about it.
When Ryder saw Caitlyn to the door and closed it behind her, Polly breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Thanks for that. I’m not cut out to be a clotheshorse.’
‘My pleasure.’ He gave a mock bow. ‘So what’s my reward?’
She crooked her finger. ‘Come here and I’ll show you.’
Polly hadn’t had a lot of sex over the years. One semi-serious boyfriend in uni who’d never rocked her world and two other guys she’d dated sporadically since. She’d been passive in the bedroom, never particularly overwhelmed. But with Ryder, she loved taking charge because he made her feel all woman and then some.
Pushing him down onto the sofa, she straddled him.
Maintaining eye contact, she undid his buttons, tearing open his shirt to mould her palms against his ripped torso.
‘You feel so good,’ she said, grinding her hips against him a little, savouring his sharp intake of breath.
‘I love how you know what you want.’ He grasped her ass, rubbing her hard against his rigid cock, rocking her back and forth until her breathing grew ragged.
‘I want you. Inside me, now...’ The last word came out on a croak, her pleasure building too quickly.
‘Whatever you want, Pol, you’re calling the shots.’
Releasing her ass, he made short work of unzipping and sliding on a condom, while she bit her lip to stop every filthy thing she wanted him to do to her spilling from her lips.
When the tip of his cock nudged her entrance, she felt a tremor run through her. Unable to wait, she lowered herself onto him, impaled and filled and beyond turned on.
As she started to slide up and down, he kissed her throat, flicking the pulse point with the tip of his tongue over and over, driving her wild.
He gripped her ass, spreading her wider, and she lost control a little. Pulling back, she rested her hands on his shoulders and rode him with abandon. He drove into her, pistoning his hips up as she came down hard. Over and over, her flesh tender yet throbbing, craving as much as he could give.
When his hands started to knead her ass, rolling her onto him in such a way her clit grazed his cock every time she engulfed him, she came so hard her head hurt like brain freeze.
‘Fuck me,’ he muttered, a second before coming on a long, low groan that made every hair on her body snap to attention.
They were so good together and as he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close, she knew he wasn’t the only one who’d just been fucked.
She was too. Totally fucked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
POLLY PRIDED HERSELF on being professional. Whatever the job, whatever the task, she was calm and steady and entirely too rational.
Which made the emotion clogging her throat and the tears stinging her eyes out of character. But she couldn’t help it. Listening to Ryder’s keynote speech was like having the man she loved laid bare.
The fact she loved him wasn’t so much a shock as a realisation, and she could’ve done without it right now. A small part of her had probably always loved him, but it had been nothing like this overwhelming drowning sensation that made her want to cling to him and never let go.
He commanded the stage with his presence and in all honesty she would’ve been captivated by his aura even if he was reciting nursery rhymes, he had that much of a hold over her.
He wore a navy designer suit and an ivory shirt open at the collar. Sexy yet casual, Ryder all over. His introduction had been a brief snapshot of his life but when he’d started talking about his broken leg and witnessing a terrible accident, that was when the emotion had crept up on her.
He’d already told her about what had happened, but hearing how it had pushed him into changing his life she realised how much he’d gone through. Hence the insane urge to join him on stage and wrap her arms around him.
‘A coach is someone who mentors and instructs. Someone to respect and look up to. Someone who becomes your champion.’ His gaze swept the captive audience of three hundred and Polly watched him, spellbound. ‘As a life coach, I don’t profess to have all the answers. I don’t tell people how to live their lives. But I encourage them to become their own champions because in here?’ He made a fist and thumped his chest. ‘We’ve all got it within us to be the best possible version of ourselves.’
He stepped away from the microphone and lowered his head slightly, a second before thunderous applause rang out. Polly joined in, the tears she’d been battling trickling down her cheeks as she clapped so hard her palms stung.
Ryder held up a hand in gratitude and the applause intensified, a rolling sound wave that made her ears ring. She’d expected him to be good; she hadn’t expected him to bring the house down.
A hand landed on her shoulder and she dabbed at her cheeks before spinning around to find Andrina grinning at her.
‘Job well done, Polly. He was outstanding.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, knowing she didn’t deserve the credit. The only reason Ryder had initially volunteered to do this was to defend her in front of this tyrannical woman. So not only had he saved her butt, he’d wowed everyone in the process.
‘I have some people I’d like you to meet,’ Andrina said, eyeing her with respect. ‘They’ll be crucial in your new role at the company. We’re all going out for drinks once this winds down and you should come.’
‘Great.’ She caught sight of Ryder making his way off stage towards her. ‘Give me two minutes?’
Andrina nodded. ‘I’ll meet you in the foyer.’
Polly should be elated. Gaining Andrina’s respect and finally having the career she’d coveted launched into the stratosphere should have her doing cartwheels.
Instead, the moment Ryder had wound up his speech, she’d known what had to be done.
She had to end things between them.
He had a gift for inspiring people and she now understood why he travelled the world doing exactly that. If she confessed her feelings he might be tempted to stay and she wouldn’t be responsible for ruining his dream career just as hers was taking off. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
So she fixed a bright smile on her face as he approached, hoping it didn’t appear as brittle as it felt, stretching her cheeks to the point of pain.
‘You were incredible,’ she said, hugging him.
‘Thanks, Pol.’ He held her tight and her body flared to life, craving him with every cell.
It would be so easy to give in to this yearning for him, to tell him she’d meet him after the work drinks finished, to have mind-blowing sex one last time.
But that would prolong the agony and he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. She would tell him an altered version of the truth tomorrow after Archie’s party, ending things between them and hopefully not shattering their friendship in the process.
‘You smell so good.’ He nuzzled her neck, pressing his hips against her and she bit back a moan. ‘How soon can we leave and start celebrating?’
Hating that she had to do this but knowing it was the only way to start withdrawing from him, she eased out of his arms. ‘Sorry, I can’t. Andrina wants me to meet some important people for my new job.’
Disappointment cl
ouded his eyes. ‘How long will it take?’
‘I don’t know, and I can’t pass up this opportunity.’
‘Of course you can’t.’ He reached out and brushed his knuckles down her cheek, making her want to bawl again. ‘If it finishes earlier than expected and you feel like catching up, drop by, okay?’
‘Sure,’ Polly said, hating how the little white lie slid from her lips.
Because she wouldn’t be dropping by his place and she sure as hell wasn’t okay.
She’d known going into this casual thing that there’d be an expiration date. They’d both known it. But knowing it logically and feeling it were worlds apart.
Ending things with Ryder had been inevitable.
But why did it have to hurt so much?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
RYDER KNEW A brush-off when he saw it—he’d delivered enough of them to women when he wanted to extricate himself—so the fact Polly had chosen work drinks over an evening with him last night spoke volumes.
He understood her keenness to advance her career but it was the way she’d delivered the news that told him something else was going on.
She wanted to end it.
He should be rapt. Having her do it saved him from being the bad guy. Yet he’d waited up for hours after he’d got home in the hope she’d drop by. By two-thirty he’d resigned himself to the truth: she wasn’t coming, and he’d lain awake for the rest of the night wishing she would. One last memorable fuck before they went their separate ways.
But insomnia led to unwelcome thoughts. He’d ended things cleanly with women before, without this odd yearning for a last hurrah to say goodbye. So as much as he labelled it a farewell fuck he knew it would be more than that with Polly.
When they’d started up he’d envisaged breaking her heart. Not intentionally, of course, but because they were friends, it was inevitable feelings would develop and he’d be the one leaving. It was what he always did. He moved on before things got complicated. But breaking up with Polly felt different. She’d been a friend long before a lover and for the first time ever a small part of him would always lament walking away.
He’d make it easy for her. After Archie’s party he’d take her somewhere private and start the conversation, making it easier for her to say what she wanted to say. It was the least he could do for a woman he l—liked.
That was bizarre. He’d almost thought the other L word. But he couldn’t love any woman and especially not Polly. Not the way she deserved. She’d end up loving him back and he couldn’t live with that expectation long term; he wasn’t worthy of someone like her.
‘So where are you taking us, putz?’ Archie draped an arm around his shoulder as the boat lurched away from its mooring at Circular Quay.
Needing to focus on making this party great and stop lamenting things he couldn’t change, he forced a grin. ‘You’ll see.’
Archie glanced around the top deck of the boat, an appreciative glint in his eyes. ‘Considering half the guests you’ve invited are women, you’d better not be taking me to the strippers.’
Ryder elbowed him away. ‘Your thirtieth will be classy all the way.’
‘Pity.’ Archie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of debauchery.’
They laughed and took beers from the waiter wending through the crowd with drinks balanced perfectly on a tray.
‘Happy birthday, Arch.’ Ryder clinked his beer bottle against Archie’s, glad he’d made the effort to return to Sydney for this. He owed his friend so much and while he’d never articulated it and probably never would, Archie’s friendship in his teens had kept him sane.
‘Thanks, mate.’ Archie lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a slug. ‘And if I get too drunk to thank you properly later, I’ll do it now. Thanks for making an effort to come back to organise this and for being the best mate a guy could ask for.’
Shocked that Archie had virtually said out loud what Ryder had just been thinking, he swallowed to ease the sudden tightness in his throat.
‘You’re not going to break into a sentimental song, are you?’
‘Fuck, no.’ Archie drank again, his grin wide. ‘But I might just smooch you.’
‘Piss off.’ Ryder laughed and elbowed him away harder.
‘Uh-oh. Polly incoming,’ Archie said. ‘My cue to go chat up some of those hot models you’ve invited and leave you two alone.’
For a second, Ryder contemplated asking Archie to stick around. He didn’t want to make small talk with Polly, not when he intended to end it later. But he didn’t want Archie’s party to turn into a bust, so he fixed a grin on his face and snagged a champers from the waiter as he did a second pass of the crowd at the stern of the boat.
‘Great party,’ she said, accepting the champagne he held out. ‘Very slick.’
‘Not really. We’re cruising to Darling Harbour then having lunch there.’
Damn, he sounded like a party pooper when she was just making polite small talk.
‘Archie’s having a ball,’ she said, pointing to where her brother now stood between two women, an arm draped across each of their shoulders. ‘He’s thirty going on thirteen.’
‘Ain’t that the truth?’
They smiled at each other and it struck him anew how much he’d miss this. They were in sync in so many ways, always had been, and he doubted he’d ever find the same kind of connection with any other woman.
‘Sorry about bailing on you last night,’ she said. ‘It took a lot out of me organising that fundraiser and I was wrecked; I got home around one.’
‘No worries, I understand.’
They locked gazes and he saw the exact moment she realised that he had planned on ending things too, just like she was.
They were finished.
‘Can we sneak away after lunch? Find somewhere quiet to talk?’
She nodded, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘Yeah, okay.’
She sounded resigned and he gritted his teeth against the urge to say Fuck it, let’s prolong this longer until I leave Sydney.
But he’d seen the way she’d looked at him at the fundraiser.
A clean break now would be better.
Archie waved him over and, ridiculously, he was glad of the reprieve. He hated this awkwardness between them, a hint of what was to come, and made him want to bolt.
‘Archie’s calling me. Catch up later?’
He touched her hand, wishing he could wrap his arms around her, wishing he could make this easy for her but knowing it would suck no matter what.
She nodded, her smile fragile, making him curse inwardly.
‘Yeah, later,’ she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
His cheek. Before turning her back on him and walking towards the front of the boat, leaving him with the distinct urge to jump overboard.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
POLLY LIKED NOTHING better than a gourmet meal and Ryder had organised the best at the waterside restaurant overlooking Darling Harbour.
Oysters Kilpatrick for entrée, black pepper eye fillet with garlic-roasted vegetables for main and an exquisite lemon tart that melted on her tongue for dessert. She ate every morsel, making small talk with Archie’s friends, faking laughter, pretending to have the time of her life.
While she slowly died inside.
So when her mum burst through the door of the restaurant in a flurry of silk and expensive perfume, Polly was already close to breaking point.
Naturally, Barbara made a beeline for the birthday boy and smothered Archie in kisses, eventually catching sight of her to Archie’s right and swooping in for a surprisingly squishy hug.
‘You look wonderful, Polly,’ she said, beaming at her in approval. ‘You’re practically glowing.’
BS, considering her sleepless night spent contemplating how she’
d end things with Ryder civilly, but she guessed the foundation and concealer she’d slathered on this morning were doing their job. Caitlyn the stylist really knew her stuff, her expertise with make-up and hair as good as her advice regarding clothes.
‘Thanks, Mum, you’re looking great too.’
And it was the truth. Barbara sported a tan that accentuated her eyes, an intense blue Polly had always coveted, while a loose coral silk kaftan draped her body and made her look like a Greek goddess. Her lipstick and nail polish matched the hue of her dress perfectly. Her mum had never looked so good.
She’d once overheard Barbara chatting to a friend on the phone, labelling her the ugly duckling. She’d been about ten at the time and had cried herself to sleep that night, wondering yet again why her mother didn’t value brains as much as beauty.
‘Scoot over,’ Barbara said, pulling up a chair to wedge herself between her two children. ‘I want to hear all your news.’
Polly saw her mother’s glance zero in on Ryder at the other end of the table. ‘And when I say all your news, I mean every last detail.’
Damn Archie and his big mouth. Not only had he told Barbara about her promotion, he’d blabbed about her fling with Ryder.
Glaring at her big brother, who seemed oblivious to everything but downing the boutique beers Ryder had generously paid for, she refocussed on her mother, who was staring at her with a quizzical tilt to her head.
‘Something wrong, honey?’
Along with the tan, the ‘honey’ bit was new too. Polly didn’t know whether to be flattered by her mother’s attention or concerned. What had Babs been up to in Queensland that she’d decided she had a daughter worthy of acknowledging?
‘I’m fine, Mum.’
To her surprise, Babs leaned in close. ‘I may not have been the best mum, but I do know you and something is wrong.’ She patted her thigh. ‘Perhaps I can help.’
Polly gaped at her mother and couldn’t help the words tumbling from her mouth. ‘Maybe I should ask you the same thing, Mum. You’re different.’