Ridge

by Adriane Leigh

  I’d so far dodged the moving in together question, but I knew I couldn’t for long and, in all honesty, I wasn’t willing to let my kid grow up without a dad anyway.

  Not that I didn’t have a choice, I was just choosing to make the right one.

  A kid deserved both parents in his life, and Amy and I weren’t bad together; we were good enough. We could raise a kid. We could do this.

  My only other choice would have been Mia, and with the existence of the kid or not, Mia and I couldn’t be.

  So I was okay.

  I had to be.

  Except I stayed late at the office every night. I stayed late, my chair angled toward the windows overlooking the city, feet propped on the desk, drinking and smoking like I was a teenager again.

  I couldn’t bear to go home. I couldn't bear to see Amy’s pleading eyes. She was begging me to come back, to check in, to be present with her and the baby.

  I was as present as I could be, that was all I could say.

  And then there was the guilt of being with Mia while Amy and I were together. I’d cheated on her. Twice. I didn’t have an excuse, there was none to give, and the old asshole in me would have hoped Amy would find out, so she’d walk away—make it easier on me—but it wasn’t just about her or me anymore.

  She carried my kid with her.

  Would he have my dark hair, or Amy’s dirty blonde? Her deep brown eyes or my icy blue ones?

  The details hurt. I couldn’t focus on it long, and when I did, I took another drink.

  I’d also been calling Mia all week. Texting and calling, I was so fucking worried about her.

  The cuts in her arms and hips haunted me.

  Every night, I closed my eyes and I saw her, woke up with nightmares where I walked in on her in that bathroom cutting at her soft flesh, coupled with the colorful tattoo she’d had inked on her hip.

  The one she’d done for me.

  I didn’t know if I could help her, but I felt like it was my fault for throwing her back into the cycle of cutting.

  My mind reached back to the time when we first crossed the line. When our lives became connected. When we became entwined.

  I ducked into the darkened restaurant and my eyes searched the crowd. The tables were filled, not a sign of her dark chocolate waves anywhere.

  I'd snatched her phone number at dinner.

  I'd texted her religiously for two weeks until she'd agreed to go out with me. Every fucking time I hit send I felt like an asshole.

  And now here we were, a month after that kiss that left me aching to get my hands on her again.

  I frowned and wondered if she’d stood me up.

  I told the maître d’ I was waiting for someone. He shook his head, indicating the other party hadn't arrived yet, and led me to a corner table. A wash of yellow lamplight lit the elegant, white linen.

  I traced the edge of the water glass and waited.

  And waited.

  And got angry.

  And grew convinced she'd stood me up to get me off her back.

  I was about to order a few fingers of single malt when a soft hand landed on my shoulder.

  She slid into the seat across from me, looking all radiant and glowing in the dim lamplight, and my grin slid into a full smile.

  “Thought you wouldn’t show.”

  “You don’t know me very well.” She smirked and took the water glass from my hand for a long sip.

  I watched her throat contract, the elegant arch of her neck. My eyes dropped to her collarbones peeking out of the soft black dress she wore. The fabric followed the lean slope of her shoulders; her hair was twisted in waves hanging down one side.

  My eyes fluttered closed as I clenched a fist at my side thinking about shoving my hand into her tresses and yanking. Pulling until her back arched as I placed a searing hot kiss on her lips.

  Fuck my dick was at a full-blown throb.

  “Everything okay?” She licked her lips.

  “Perfect.” I tried to discreetly adjust myself under the table.

  “Glad to hear it.” She waived the waiter down and we ordered our entrées.

  Jesus, why did it feel like she was playing me as much as I was her?

  When the wine arrived she took a long sip and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as her eyes fluttered closed.

  I groaned involuntary and her eyes opened, the shimmering green pools taunting me, begging me for a taste, a touch.

  “Fuck, what are you doing Mia?”

  “What?” She looked up with cloyingly innocent eyes.

  She knew exactly what the fuck she was doing.

  “I’m so hard I could pound nails.” I leaned across the table and murmured.

  Her lips popped open in a soft O and just like that I knew I needed to be inside her. Knew I wouldn’t stop thinking about her until I was clutching at her soft skin.

  “Come back to my place tonight.”

  “I don’t think so.” She grinned and tossed her hair around her neck.

  “Are you going to make me beg?” I stretched a hand under the small table and caressed the soft skin at her knee. She shifted into me, not away.

  Jesus Christ.

  I worked my fingers up her thigh, caressing softly, scraping my fingernails before the waiter deposited our plates.

  I smirked and tossed the cloth napkin over my hard dick under the table before twisting pasta onto my spoon and sweeping it into my mouth.

  We ate and drank and exchanged gazes that felt hot enough to burn up in the space between us.

  She said she’d never had food so good.

  I said I’d never seen someone so beautiful.

  She said I was a flirt.

  I said she was a temptress.

  We bantered, my dick grew harder in my pants, and at some point during that meal, I knew there was no going back.

  She had me in her spell. Her flirty grins, the dark-rimmed eyes, the twist of long dark hair falling over one shoulder, and the slope of her breasts.

  I was a goner.

  “Walk with me?”

  “Mhmm . . .” She nodded as she hooked her arm in my elbow and we walked in the damp Spring air.

  We watched streetlights shimmer off puddles as we walked until we reached my building.

  “This is my place,” I murmured as I looked down at her. She glanced up, her eyes catching mine, and I saw need swirling there.

  There was no going back for her either. She’d accepted my dinner invite tonight knowing it would come to this. We both had.

  “Come up?” I licked my bottom lip as I traced her rosy mouth with my eyes. She only nodded before I guided us into the building and to the elevators.

  I hit the button for the fourteenth floor and then wrapped her in my arms. Her chest pressed to mine; I did what I’d been thinking about doing all night.

  I ducked my head, ran my nose up the line of her neck, and sucked in one long inhale, taking in her delicate honeysuckle scent that drove me insane.

  My cock throbbed as I worked my thumbs in small circles around her waist and trailed my teeth along the shell of her ear.

  I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and pulled gently as she moaned against me.

  The elevator dinged and I clasped her hand in mine before we took off down the hallway to my apartment.

  I licked my lips as I opened the door. I should have been asking myself what the fuck I was doing. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  All I could think about was her.

  Getting inside her. Nailing her. Getting lost. Tasting her on my tongue and watching her come around my cock.

  “Something to drink?” I flicked on a small lamp.

  “No,” she breathed and pressed her soft tits against my chest. She fingered open the few buttons on my shirt, and kissed and trailed her tongue along the hollow of my throat.

  It fucking undid me.

  I groaned and hoisted her onto my hips, stumbling backward, my dick nestled between her legs right where he'd want
ed to be all night. I licked her lips and took long strides down the hallway to my bedroom.

  We crashed through the door, her hands twisted in my hair as she rubbed her hot cunt against my abdomen, riding me, seeking release before we’d even started.

  Her heels locked around my ass, I thrust my hands into her hair, and backed her against the wall. I held her head tightly as I sucked and pulled on her bottom lip.

  She groaned as I nipped, I drew my teeth along the silky flesh as I twisted my fingers in her long hair. I gripped and pulled, she arched her head back, her mouth open as silent breaths heaved from her body.

  I ran the tip of my tongue up the delicate slope of her throat. Slowly, so fucking slowly I was nearly coming in my fucking pants.

  She whimpered and clutched at my jaw, her eyes locking with mine. The green blazing, swirling with temptation, as she pushed her lips against mine and bit. Hard.

  Really fucking hard.

  Hard enough that I nearly thought she’d drawn blood.

  I pulled away but she wouldn’t let go. She alternated nibbling my bottom lip and running her tongue along it, as if to soothe the pain away.

  God she was a sadist. She was rough. She was like me.

  “Fuck me already,” she moaned and ground her cunt against me.

  I pushed the fabric of her dress up her thigh with one hand and kneaded at the flesh. I groaned when I found she was wearing stockings that ended just above her knees.

  “Jesus Christ I need to see you,” I grunted and dropped her on her feet. “Take if off.” I backed away and flicked my eyes down her curvy body.

  Full tits outlined in the dark dress.

  A nipped-in waist, and hips that hinted at a perfect hourglass shape.

  Fuck, I wanted to dig my nails into her, leave bruises when I finally seated myself inside her hot body.

  She held my eyes as she pulled her dress over her head, the fabric slowly revealing every inch as if unwrapping a present.

  My dick throbbed. Ached. Begged for release from the slow torture.

  I swallowed when she tossed the garment to the floor and stood in heels, dark stockings that banded in a line around her thigh, and a matching black plunge bra that had her tits pushed high and together. She looked fucking edible.

  “I want my tongue on you.” I tugged down the cups of her bra. Her nipples pebbled as I pinched. I twisted and watched her eyes glaze with pain before settling into pleasure.

  “Is your pussy wet?”

  She swallowed as she watched me, not answering.

  “Tell me.” I twisted her nipple again.

  “So fucking wet,” she moaned and trailed one hand down her body. My eyes flared when it dipped into her panties.

  “Fuck.” I dropped to my knees and pulled the scrap of lace down in one hard yank to find her fingers working throw her swollen lips. Her pussy glistened with arousal and had my mouth watering.

  “Fuck, keep going, that’s fucking gorgeous.” I leaned in a little closer, dragged my nose up the line of her inner thigh, nipped at the panties that bit into her flesh and snapped the elastic against her creamy skin.

  Her fingers swirled in her juices as she worked her clit in slow, lazy circles.

  “I can smell your cunt.” I ran my nose up to her fingers and inhaled, the smell of her arousal intoxicating me.

  I ran my finger between her lips and plunged one inside, her hot wet heat surrounding my finger.

  “Come here.” I hiked one leg up over my shoulder and her hands flew into my hair, fisting and holding me to keep her balance as I thrust another finger inside her and attached my lips to her clit.

  I pulled and sucked on the hardened bundle of nerves and thrust my fingers in and out of her until my desire for her nearly exploded.

  I was reduced to the five senses of sex.

  Her taste on my tongue.

  The sounds of her moans in my ear.

  The silky feel of her body against my fingers.

  The sight of her olive skin pinking up with arousal.

  The smell of her sex filling my nostrils.

  I was surrounded in sex.

  I’d surely died and gone straight to heaven.

  Her pussy pulsed and she came around me in a scream as her hands fisted in my hair.

  I sucked and slowed my tongue, lapped up her arousal before standing and throwing her on the bed.

  I yanked her panties down before pulling my own shirt over my shoulders and kicking my pants across the floor.

  After rolling a condom on my erection, I leaned over her, ran my nose up the center of her body, nipped at her hips, dipped into her navel, traced my tongue along the curve of her breast and the sharp line of her collarbone, before landing on her lips and sinking myself inside her.

  Fucking bliss, right here in her smokin’ hot body.

  I clutched at her and circled my hips, pulling all the way out before pushing all the way back in.

  She scratched at my shoulders, ran her nails down my back as I bit through the pain and continued to move in and out of her.

  I murmured in her ear how fucking hot she felt around my dick.

  How tight she fisted at me.

  How beautiful and sensual and so fucking sexy she was.

  I sucked on her nipples and teased the hardened peaks with my teeth, nipping just before I pulled away so she arched and cried and her pussy came in a wave around me.

  I grunted as I plunged into her before sucking at the flesh under the curve of her breast. I wanted to leave a mark. I wanted to redden her up and leave a bruise so she would feel me in the morning, but I couldn't. She wasn’t mine to mark.

  Wasn’t mine to have.

  I heaved and thrust until I stilled inside her, poured my release into the condom as she panted under me, her legs around my waist, heels biting into my ass cheeks, her arms thrown above her head as her body heaved in deep breaths full of fresh air.

  That was the night we couldn't go back.

  We could push away the innocent flirting before, but being with her, inside her, coming with her, there was no going back.

  I thrust my hands in my pockets as I walked home from work in the dark. After eleven. Amy wouldn’t be waiting up. She’d been exhausted from the pregnancy. I knew this because she’d bought me an expectant dad book. I’d dutifully flipped through it, learned about false labor, cutting the cord, midnight feedings. It all caused my head to swim and had me wishing desperately for a different life.

  I picked up a bottle and another pack of smokes on the way home and then headed up to my floor on the elevator. I fumbled with the key in the lock, my shoe hitting the door loudly as I walked into my place. I cussed and then shoved a hand in my pocket to bring out my fresh pack of cigarettes.

  I kicked off my shoes and lit one as I walked to the slider.

  Just as I yanked it open, the light flicked on. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

  “Fuck.” I turned and knocked the bottle against the metal end table and glass shattered around my feet, spilling amber liquid everywhere. “Fuck,” I roared and, lit cigarette still dangling from my lips, headed to the kitchen for a towel.

  I kneeled and sopped up the liquid saturating the rug, puffing on my smoke absentmindedly.

  “Smoke, Ridge,” she screamed and ripped the cigarette from my mouth and tossed it under running water in the sink.

  “Fuck, sorry.” I let my eyes fall closed as I sopped up the liquid.

  “You look like hell,” she murmured as she knelt down beside me.

  “I feel like it.”

  “You’re drinking too much.”

  I only licked my lips in response. My throat was suddenly parched and itching for another drink. The slow, satisfying burn of the liquor traveling down my throat. Fuck, yeah, I was drinking too much, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stop.

  “You can't keep up like this.” She stopped my hands from kneading at the towel and lifted my head to look into her eyes. “You’re gone. You’re
gone and we need you.”

  My gaze sliced down to her still-flat tummy. Tears burned behind my eyelids, not because I was overwhelmed with love for her and our baby, but because I was desperate. So fucking dark and desperate and falling into something I wasn’t ready for and shouldn’t be headed back to. But I couldn’t see the way out.

  “Will you talk to me?”

  I swallowed and turned my head away from her, breaking eye contact.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Amy.”

  “Try me. You keep everything locked up. How can you ever expect to get better when you won’t tell anyone anything?”

  “I’ve told people. It’s just . . .”

  “Not me?”

  I worked my jaw back and forth as I craved Mia’s presence. Her calming touch on my face, her soft words, her fiery eyes that somehow managed to both challenge and soothe me.

  “Stop blocking me out. Tell me. Tell someone. Fuck, Ridge, you have to tell someone!”

  “I told Mia, okay? Mia's the only one that knows what happened.” That shut her up and wasn’t that what I'd wanted? Wanted her to leave me the fuck alone. “Fuck, Amy. Get off my ass.” I jumped to my feet and stalked out to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette.

  “I can't believe this is about her.” She followed after me, eyes burning with anger as she watched me puff on the smoke.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I growled.

  Her eyes flared at my words as they flicked down to the cigarette in my mouth. She clenched her jaw and then swung her hand up and knocked the cigarette from my mouth.

  “Fuck!” I yelled so loud the neighbors might be calling the cops soon. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Amy! What the fuck?” I hit my hand on the pillar next to me.

  “Talk to me.”

  “No.” I was being petulant, even I knew that.

  “Fine. Fine, Ridge, but you're not just blocking me out, you’re blocking this baby out. And he or she doesn’t deserve that. The baby deserves a dad that's healthy, that loves his or her mom, and himself. You may be willing to ruin yourself, but I won’t let you ruin the baby.” Tears burned in her eyes before she walked back into the apartment, swiped her purse, and walked straight out the front door.