by Sasha Gold
That moment, when he broke me into a thousand pieces, he also claimed me. My thoughts, my feelings, even my dreams are entirely different. It’s like he marked me, branding me with his filthy touch. Once again, I slip into another dream about Ryker. I shiver beneath the blankets and moan helplessly as my dream lover’s hands wander across my shoulders, down over my breasts and skim over my thighs.
I need to taste you…
His deep, gravelly voice next to my ear, along with his warm breath, makes a rush of goosebumps tighten my skin. My breasts ache. I need his touch. Heat and desire pool between my thighs. I’m slick, burning for the release I know he can give me if only I’ll submit to his demands.
Going to tie you to my bed…
Yes.
Going to make you mine. Keep you. Always…
Yes.
A whimper threads along my throat. Through the haze of my dream, I’ve lost the ability to reply in any sort of coherent way. My thoughts feel slow and clumsy. He kisses a trail down my neck and closer to my breasts. I arch, needing his wicked mouth. A soft laugh greets my ears. He turns me over to my stomach, starting the trail of kisses down my back. His lips brush over my shoulders and along my spine.
He reaches my ass and nips me. I squeal with surprise. When he swats my bottom, I gasp. With that, he flips me back, parts my thighs and gazes down at me as I lie, naked and vulnerable, to his every desire. He fixes his eyes on me. They glitter with a feral light. He traces his finger along my slick folds.
I’m going to taste your sweet, innocent body. I’ll be your first. Your last. Your only.
Please…
I’m wet. Slick. He growls as he strokes his finger between my legs. I can tell he’s fighting his lust. His muscles tighten with restraint. And yet he strokes me slowly, so slowly that I’m sure he wants me to lose my mind. I’m begging. Mindless. He lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucks them and gives a low, primitive growl. The sound rumbles across his chest.
Fuck me. I need your cock, Ryker.
His eyes flash with filthy amusement. Not yet.
He lowers to kiss my thigh. I’m trembling with need, barely able to breathe. His lips brush over my thigh. A soft kiss that promises more. He follows that kiss with another. I want to reach down. To touch myself and entice him, but I’m certain he wouldn’t approve. He’s bossy. Impossible. Another kiss brings him closer to what I need. I writhe. Plead.
All right sweetheart, he growls. I’ll give you what you need.
A loud bang on my front door crashes through the middle of my dream seduction.
“Lilly!” someone yells. “Wake up, girl!”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to linger with my hot, demanding professor a little longer. Another bang at my door yanks me from my reverie.
“Lilly, wake up!” Gemma yells. “I brought breakfast. You have a ten o’clock this morning. Mr. Delavier’s poodle. Get your ass out of bed!”
I blink, stare at the ceiling and think how I’ll never again feel Ryker’s hands on me, doing filthy things. Not unless I dream about him. I was about to feel something I’ve only fantasized about and then Gemma shows up at my door, wrecking everything.
With a groan of frustration, I tug the tangled sheets from my legs and stumble to the door. Ryker grumbled about answering the door in a gown and robe, but I don’t care. Gemma’s seen me first thing in the morning wearing a towel or less.
I open the door and let her in. “I must have slept through my alarm.”
She eyes me with a grin. “You look cute for just waking up. Your hair’s a little wild but you’ve got that naughty sex-kitten look.”
Gemma says stuff like that all the time because she’s trying to launch me into the dating scene. Ever since we met, she’s talked about setting me up with guys. She hasn’t said anything in a while, but I can tell from the gleam in her eye, she’s reconsidering. If I look anything remotely like a sex kitten, it’s because of the very bad, totally naughty dream I was having.
The aroma of bacon and eggs wafts into the air as she unpacks the paper bag, setting the breakfast plates on the table. I grab a carton of orange juice and silverware. The remnants of my dreams flit around my thoughts as I search for the salt and pepper.
“Thanks for waking me up.” My voice is edged with resentment.
“That’s what friends are for.”
She clearly missed my tone. “I was in the middle of a dirty dream and I was just getting to the good part.”
She smirks. “Go on.”
“My new professor is hot.”
“He’s here? How come you didn’t tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.” I’m not revealing all the details of the story, of course. I don’t need that to get around campus. I’d probably get into huge trouble and Ryker might get fired. I sit down across from her and give her what I hope is a mysterious smile.
“You had a nasty dream?”
“I did.”
“Was he making you do things for extra credit?”
My thoughts drift back to the other morning when he’d kissed me and made me come with his mouth on my breast. I’d never felt even a glimmer of arousal when I’d been kissed by other guys. How had he managed to bring me to a full-blown orgasm just by touching my breasts? A shudder rolls down my spine. I can’t imagine how earth-shattering it would be to give myself completely to Ryker Stone. To sleep with him, to give him my first time. Actually, I can, but I’m certain sex with Ryker would be devastating.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by Gemma’s inquisitive grin. She’s waiting for me to tell all. She wants the scoop.
“He wasn’t making me do things,” I tell her. “He was doing things to me.”
“Like explaining the quadratic formula?” She bats her lashes.
“No, I was in bed. Naked. He loomed over me, promising me dirty things, claiming that I was his and he’d do exactly as he pleased with me.”
Gemma’s eyes are big as plums. She cackles. “Sounds good to me.”
“He swatted my ass.”
She gets a faraway look in her eyes. Her lips curve into a dopey smile. “Hmm…”
“He started to go down on me, but then you knocked on the effing door, interrupting what was bound to be the best, dirtiest thing ever.”
Gemma winces and dumps the tiny container of salsa over her eggs. “Well, damn. I didn’t mean to cock block this epic event. Not sure if that’s right considering it’s oral sex, but you get my drift. I encourage you to explore this naughty fantasy, once finals are over, and I insist you report back with details.”
“I’d love to explore a thousand fantasies with this guy. He’s nothing like any other guy I’ve met. I’d be happy to be his little rag doll, even if he didn’t give me a passing grade in Algebra.”
Gemma snickers. “Maybe you could barter. Rag-doll sex for a passing grade.”
A sharp, metallic clatter breaks the quiet. It’s the sound of keys hitting a hard surface outside my front door. I’m not decently dressed, but that doesn’t keep me from rushing to the door and shoving it open. Ryker’s on my step.
“Hey, Lilly,” he says with a grimace. “Every time I knock on your door, you’re wearing less.”
“Are you eavesdropping?”
“Yes,” he says in a sultry tone.
I shouldn’t stand here talking to Ryker Stone wearing next to nothing. To his credit, he keeps his gaze fixed on mine. Good thing too. If he were to let his eyes wander, I’m sure my traitorous body would respond to the attention.
He offers me a folded piece of paper, my test with a score of 20 scrawled across the top. He leans over, and when he glimpses Gemma, his smirk vanishes.
“I expect you in my office tomorrow, Miss Wharton.”
Chapter Ten
Ryker
Lilly blows me off completely. I expected her response and made my next, very strategic move, one that costs me $2,300. That evening, I go to the emergency vet clinic, pay Buddy’s bill, take him to the pet store fo
r a few supplies, and bring him home. We only have a few days before the final which means I’ll need to play dirty.
He’s wearing his little cone but doesn’t seem too bothered. Pretty sure he doesn’t notice. Trotting around the yard, he moves a little gingerly as he sniffs the grass. Lilly’s home. Her car is parked in front of the carriage house, but she doesn’t notice I have the dog. I’m certain she doesn’t notice, because there’s no way she’d ignore Buddy after what he’s been through. The receptionist at the clinic said she called four or five times a day to check on him.
I take him back inside. I make myself a sandwich, loosen my tie and kick off my boots before sending her a text. It’s a picture of Buddy sitting on my couch, cocking his head to the side. Buddy sends his regards.
Not three seconds later, she flies out of her house, letting the door slam behind her. I half-expected her to be pissed at me, but she has a little smile on her face by the time she gets to my back door.
“The clinic told me he’d been picked up,” she says, her eyes shining. “I was so worried that the owner and her husband had him.”
The idea of that jerk getting a hold of Buddy makes a flicker of anger burn inside my chest. I block the doorway and frown at her as she cranes her neck, trying to see past me. He’s probably still on the couch, playing with the chew toy he picked out at the pet store.
As I continue to block the doorway, small growls come from inside the house. Buddy likes to growl at the ball, especially if it rolls under a cushion and he can’t get it because of his cone. Lilly folds her arms across her chest and narrows her eyes at me.
“I don’t have a lot of time to chat. I have a lemon chiffon cake in the oven.”
I smile. “Now we’re talking.”
She doesn’t return my smile. “Are you going to let me see Taffy?”
“His name is Buddy.”
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Can I see him?”
“Sure, but it’ll cost you.”
A fearful look passes behind her eyes, one that purely pisses me off. I’m not the bad guy here, just because a simple kiss got out of control. She got a little something out of that too. I’ve thought about that moment a thousand times. The moment when she fell apart in my arms. But that’s not what I want, or that’s not what I want right now.
Lilly’s got a serious problem on her hands, namely her fucking math class. I don’t get how someone can be so clueless when it comes to algebra. I mean, isn’t it pretty much basic logic? Whatever. I’m not going to give it too much thought. She’s my girl now. She might not know that, but I’ll prove it to her. In the meantime, her problem is my problem, no matter how much pushback she gives me. I’m going to get her through this class if I have to tie her to a chair to tutor her.
“Your final is in four days, Lilly.” I try to sound casual. “You’re going to come over here every evening for tutoring.”
Her eyes widen and I hear her breath catch in her throat. Backing away, she gives me a wary look. After a moment, she composes herself and folds her arms across her chest.
I force myself to keep eye contact. “For your algebra final. I won’t touch you, not even once.”
Until the semester’s over. Then you’re going to be all mine…
Chapter Eleven
Lilly
Over the course of the next few evenings, I study for several hours with Ryker, only I make a point of calling him Dr. Stone. He’s insisted that I hand over my dog-walking duties to Gemma, who is happy for the extra work. She likes to talk about buying me out, creating an app and turning it into a full-time gig. She’s not stressing about her finals, so there’s that.
I wish I could say the same.
Ryker runs the study sessions with a more business-like attitude than Dr. Murphy did. Each day, he gives me a little test on what we studied the evening before. Then we work on new material or go over anything I missed. At first, he was a little puzzled by how much I struggled, but not anymore. If he thinks it’s weird that I don’t get math, he doesn’t let on. In class, he’s as professional as he is during my tutoring. I’m grateful, but I admit that I miss his touch, too.
The night before the test, I go to his house to find him in the kitchen. He’s wearing jeans and a chambray shirt, and is cooking dinner. A sauce simmers on the stove. A pasta pot steams on the neighboring burner. My mouth waters, but I can’t help feeling a little let down that he’s forgotten we were studying one last time.
“Should I come back later?” I ask, setting my books on the counter.
“You should stay. I want to feed you.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Give you a pep talk.”
I can’t help the flush of pleasure that drifts across my thoughts. Even though I don’t like math, I really like spending time with Ryker. Mostly we talk about the subject matter, but sometimes we’ll get sidetracked and talk about personal stuff. He tells me about his travels, working for companies or foreign governments. I tell him about my life, which by comparison is pretty bland. I’ve traveled some, but only to hang out with my mother and her husband-of-the-month.
While Ryker’s traveled extensively, his parents still live in the same house he grew up in. I can’t even wrap my brain around that. By the time I graduated from high school, I’d attended fourteen different schools and lived in as many different houses.
“Dinner sounds good,” I tell him, feeling suddenly shy. “Can I help?”
For a moment he doesn’t answer. When he does, it’s not what I expect.
He’s chopping tomatoes, stops and looks up. “Why do you get flustered on tests?”
I’m taken aback, unsure how to respond. I don’t know the answer. I’ve never thought about why I get flustered. No one has ever asked or even pointed out that I get flustered.
Buddy, who has decided he’s Ryker’s dog after all, strolls into the kitchen, yawning and wagging his tail. A moment ago, I’d been relaxed and mellow with the thought of having a nice dinner with Ryker. Not anymore. My chest tightens. My skin feels clammy and my throat dry. I crouch down to pet Buddy.
“Come on, Lilly,” Ryker coaxes, his tone warm. “You can tell me anything.”
“There’s not much to tell, other than sometimes I get a little test anxiety.”
He arches a disbelieving brow and goes back to his work.
He probably thinks I’m trying to conceal some huge trauma. I’m not. I’ve always been nervous when it comes to tests. It’s just that some of them make me more nervous than others. My mother doesn’t help matters. She’s called four times today. It’s like she wants me to fail or something. I finally texted her that I was getting tutored by my hot professor, so she’d have something else to think about.
Ryker and I eat dinner together. It’s nice. Really nice. I love being with him. He’s playful, a little flirty, but not too much. Even better, he’s a great cook. I’d like to invite him back to my place, but I’m pretty sure that’s a terrible idea. Plus, it might come across as desperate or like I’m trying to get him to give me a good grade in exchange for, well, anything he wanted.
I change the subject. “Gemma wants to buy me out of the dog-walking business.”
He grins. “Nice. She going to give you a good price?”
“Maybe. It was my idea. We need to develop an app.” I bat my lashes at him.
His eyes darken with a look that seems an awful lot like a look of warning.
“I wondered if you knew about apps,” I hasten to add.
“A little.” He goes back to eating.
“What’s your rate? Do you get paid by the hour, or the day?”
“By the day,” he says. “Twenty-five thousand a day.”
I roll my eyes. “Very funny. I guess you might be a little out of my price range.”
“We can talk about that when you’re done with school.”
His tone is neutral, no hint of suggestion. If he can keep it professional, I can too. After dinner, I offer to help with the dishes but he says no. I need an
early bedtime and he even walks me home, the short distance to my house. When we get there, he wishes me a good night, waits till I’m inside and returns to his house.
The next morning, I get to class just as Ryker does. A young guy follows a few paces behind, carrying a stack of papers. It takes me a minute to figure out that this is his TA, the same guy who worked for Dr. Murphy. Jeremy seems like he takes his job seriously. He hands out the tests like he’s distributing top secret files.
Ryker sits at the front of the room, ignoring everyone including me, which hurts my feelings a little. Whatever, though. This is a class. He’s a professor. That’s all. My heart pinches but I push the feeling aside. I should be more worried about the test than getting the cold shoulder from Dr. Stone.
I look at the first problem. I read it a couple of times, but for some reason I can’t make sense of it. Fucking word problems. I glare at Ryker. He doesn’t even look up. I look back down at my paper and rub my forehead. I have to keep it together. If I freak out now, I’ll never make it through the entire test. I try to coax air into my lungs.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text. I’m not supposed to get texts, but I’m pretty sure the professor isn’t supposed to send them either and this one is from Ryker. I stare at my phone in disbelief. Ryker says something to Jeremy, distracting him, and I take that opportunity to read the message.
Roses are red
Taffy was blue
His name is Buddy now
You’re almost…
Done with algebra
A jolt goes down my spine. I manage, barely, to keep from snorting. The guy next to me glares. I try my best to keep from looking at Ryker but can’t resist. He’s not even looking up, much less my direction. I draw a deep breath and start over on the first question. His poem made me relax and suddenly the question makes sense.
I make my way through the test. Every so often I get frazzled, but he notices and sends me a text. One of a Before I know it, I’m done with the final. I stare in disbelief at the last question and realize this is the first time I’ve ever finished every problem on an algebra exam. I glance up. This time he’s watching. A smile plays on his lips and he winks.