by Frankie Love
With my foot on the bottom rung, I answer. “I’m thinking about how I can thank you for rescuing me.”
When we get to the top of the tree house it is sparse, with a cot, a pile of books, and collected arrowheads on a table; there’s a lantern on the floor. I turn, expecting to see Ryder with a smile, or at least with a hungry look in his eyes.
But his face looks worn, beaten, bruised. He looks sad, humbled. Lost.
“I don’t deserve your thanks, Justine. I fucking put you in this position. I should have gone to that auction like a real fucking man and bid on you. If I’d done that, I could have saved you from this mess.”
I shake my head. “But if it had happened like that, I don’t know if I would have fallen for you. There’s something about being locked in the woods; about being kidnapped by a stranger...”
“Is that what this is?” he asks, stepping toward me. “Stockholm Syndrome? Falling for your captor?” He runs his hand over his beard, and I shake my head, knowing it isn’t that at all.
“Maybe you were my captor but not anymore.” I lower my chin and lift my eyes. “Now I am free to do what I like.”
Ryder meets my gaze. He may feel responsible, but I have forgiven him. After meeting Luther, I know he did what he did because he had my best interests in mind.
“You’re too fucking good for me, Justine. I moved to the woods, doing everything I could to get away from the bullshit, but you aren’t running, you are fighting for what you believe in.”
“Don’t you help with your mom’s organization?”
“I don’t even show up to the meetings, even though I sit on the board. It hurt too much to be a part of her world after she died. So, I left it.”
“Who says you have to leave it behind forever?” I ask, stepping toward him. “You can always go back. Make a different choice.”
He runs a hand over my hair, pulling me toward him at the waist. His voice is low, his words sincere. “You fight for what you believe in Justine. You auctioned your virginity to raise money for a cause that mattered. How did you become so good?”
I shake my head. “I may have had good intentions, but I’m a fool, Ryder. I was warned that this auction could bite me in the ass, but I didn’t really understand what I was selling. How intimate giving my body to another person really is.”
I close my eyes as his hand runs up my back, holding the base of my neck, drawing my mouth to his. “I’m so grateful you kidnapped me,” I whisper.
“We can lie on the cot together,” he tells me. “Let me hold you in my arms. I know you’ve been through so much back at the house.”
I shake my head, appreciating his thoughtfulness, but knowing what I need. “I want to be with you in every sense of the word, Ryder. Now. I want to erase those horrible memories now and forever.”
I give my mouth to him, our tongues colliding and our hands holding on to the one thing that matters. One another.
Ryder’s hands trail up and down my body before landing firmly on my ass. He squeezes my cheeks and I whimper as he pulls me closer.
His lips move away from me, and with our foreheads pressed together, he asks, “Are you sure you want this??”
“Yes. You’re all I want, Ryder.” My words are truer than anything I’ve ever spoken.
I’ve never been a wishy-washy person. Someone who straddled two lines. I’m the kind of girl who’s always known what she wanted. And I’ve gone after it. Whether or not it was a cause or a protest or a decision; when I make up my mind, I don’t waver.
“I just want you,” I tell him and his eyes are no longer wounded, hurt. When I look in his eyes, I see devotion. I see desire. I see our future.
“I’ll never let you go,” he tells me.
He carries me to the cot and lays me down on top of a wool blanket.
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” I tell him.
He doesn’t. I’m wearing nothing but his coat and he pulls it open. I shrug out of it, wanting to be completely bare as I give him my heart.
He tugs off my panties and drops his pants, kicking off his boots and pulling his T-shirt over his head. I’ll never get tired of the sight before me. His broad shoulders, his chiseled abs, the deep V leading my eye toward his groin. My pussy grows wet as I take him in.
“You look so solid,” I tell him. “Hard. Firm. Mine.”
“And you, Justine, you look so soft.”
My body responds to his words, and I release a long sigh. People never describe me as soft. I’m described as forthright and no-nonsense. But Ryder sees me as more than that. He sees me as vulnerable, as a woman, he sees me as someone with more dimensions than I sometimes see in myself.
Ryder pulls off his boxers, his long thick cock so hard and ready. He leans over me and I reach for him. On this bed made for one, we lie together.
His arms are on either side of my body, and under him, I feel so small. His shoulders are broad and his eyes piercing. He’s all man, and right now he is all mine.
I don’t want him to wait. I am greedy and in heat. I am ready and wanting.
I run my hands over his length that grows under my touch. When his mouth moves to my breasts, his tongue circles my hard nipples, and my pussy responds to what I know is coming.
I gave Ryder my virginity, and right now I want to give him my forever.
“Come to me, Ryder, I need to feel you in me.”
“I don’t have a...” He looks back at his jeans on the floor, biting his bottom lip with regret.
I realize he’s talking about protection, about not bringing any.
“I don’t care,” I tell him. “I just need you now.”
“There are consequences for that, you know that right?” He raises an eyebrow pushing my hair from my forehead
“I may have been a virgin but I’m no fool. I want this. I want you. I want us.”
“I fucking love you, Justine,” he tells me. His words are so sure that my heart constricts. I forget to breathe.
Ryder loves me.
“It’s not just because I’ll let you go bareback?” I ask with a smile.
“Don’t say that, baby,” he growls. “I love you, regardless of how we fuck. I love you because you make me want to be a better man. I love you because you rushed into my life and fucking changed my world in the best possible way. I love you and it isn’t just about sex. With you, it’s about forever. I love you, Justine. Just the way you are.”
He brushes away my tears with his thumb, our bodies thrumming with heat and desire and promises we both intend to keep.
“I love you too,” I tell him breathlessly. My eyes are full of tears and swear I haven’t stopped crying all day long. When Ryder moves inside me, my legs wrap around him, our hearts already knit together as one. “I love you so much,” I say as he thrusts deep inside me, his cock filling up my core, my pussy awake and wet.
Our fingers lace together as he moves against me with a need we haven’t shared before.
We aren’t having sex; that much is obvious.
Right now, we are making love.
EXPOSÉ
The Gossip Column You Can Sink Your Teeth Into
RUGGED STRANGER TAKES VIRGIN! By Trista Piper
Ryder Ottenbagh, son of Helen Ottenbagh, founder of HAHA, was seen leaving the estate of Luther Morris late Sunday afternoon. After two seaplanes landed, thirty minutes apart from one another, eyewitnesses were determined to find out why there was a commotion on the Morris-Ottenbagh property.
Word on the street is that Luther brought Justine Van De Shire to his home, and shortly thereafter, police cars arrived. The next time Justine was seen, was when she was being carried out of the home in the arms of Ryder, the primary suspect in her kidnapping, wearing nothing but a man’s coat.
The Morris-Ottenbagh estate is heavily protected with high-security fencing, so no one was able to determine where Ottenbagh took Justine, but sources question just what Ryder’s intentions are.
When interviewed, a neighbor stated, “Ryder had alwa
ys been a standoffish man albeit guarded, even more so since his mother passed.”
Reports confirm that since the death of his mother, Ryder has made several attempts to buy the property Luther is now in possession of, along with Luther’s seat on the HAHA Board.
While there is certainly something suspect happening on the property, as we speak, this much is clear: we here at EXPOSÉ would much rather be kidnapped by this rugged stranger named Ryder, than old man Luther.
Doesn’t take a team of experts to identify who we’d like to have nab us!
Forget the millionaire, we’ll take the man with the beard!
Everyone knows a furry face makes a heart race!
Chapter 22
Ryder
In my old tree house, I make love to Justine, feeling like we are safe from the world at large. The branches of the tree cover us as I take her onto me, my cock so hard for her, my body made for her.
She gasps as I rock against her, she cries out as I move deep inside her tight pussy. She forgets herself as I take her fully, unable to restrain myself and knowing she doesn’t want me to. Everything about this moment is unrestrained.
The memory of Luther stripping her of her clothes, of him touching her skin and thinking he was his, makes my blood boil. I will never let another man touch Justine. She is safe now, she is mine.
“Ryder,” she moans, her fingers gripping my biceps, holding on for dear life as I teach her new ideas about love. As I show her exactly what it means to be filled by a true mountain man, a real lover who knows how to properly fuck his woman.
“You like it hard, Shortbread?” I ask, her tits bouncing like they were made to do, my hands on her waist, holding her to me,
We come together, her back arched, her lips swollen, her pussy slick. My cock is stiff and throbbing as I fill her warm cunt with my seed. I watch as pure pleasure washes over her. I give her all of me, and I am rewarded with her love.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” I say, rolling her on top of me. “I want to lie like this forever.”
“Forever and ever,” she breathes.
Our hearts slow as we relish the moments after making love, and I run my hand over her smooth skin, memorizing her in my arms, knowing moments like this are what life is made for.
Later, we stand and I pull my coat around her, wishing I had something more to use to cover her up. She turns to go down the ladder, but I open the chest in the corner, opening the lock with the combination of numbers I memorized as a boy.
Inside, I reach for a small box and take out a tiny memento. It’s one I stashed there a few years back. I put it in my pocket, lock up the safe, and meet my woman down at the base of the tree.
“I need to call my parents,” she says after we’re both on solid ground. Hand in hand we walk back toward the house. “They’re going to want me to come home with them.”
I swallow, not wanting her to go anywhere. Unable to imagine life without her. Ideas—totally outlandish plans run through my head. But before I am able to put words to them, we hear people calling our names.
Mostly calling Justine’s name.
“Sweetie? Where are you?” a woman cries.
“It’s my mom,” Justine says, looking up at me. “Thank God, they are here. It feels like it’s been ages.”
She lets go of my hand, and I watch her zip up the coat tighter, then run up the hill toward her parents. I can’t help but notice just how fast she moves, how relieved she seems to be to have them here.
The plans I was just making seem foolish. Justine isn’t going to want what I have to offer. She can do and be anything she wants.
She turns to me. “Are you coming?”
I nod and run up after her.
Praying like hell we aren’t about to say goodbye right after we just exchanged ‘I love yous’.
At the driveway of the mansion, her parents wait with outstretched arms. The police cars are gone and no one is in sight. I’m praying Luther has been taken into custody.
Her parents pull her into their arms, kissing her cheeks, clearly relieved that their only child is okay. I stand back watching this happy reunion.
“Did they take Luther away?” I ask.
Justine’s father nods. “They were leaving when we got here. The grounds are empty except for the two of you, but the police didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“We were on a walk. I needed to calm down,” Justine tells them.
Her mom looks my way. “And who is this?”
Justine blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is Ryder. My, uh, friend.”
I cock a brow, wondering how we went from lovers to friends so damn fast.
Then again, everything between Justine and I has happened fast. Hyper-speed. Maybe she has flip-flopped just as fast. Maybe the words we shared in the tree house are meant to stay put.
“Friends?” her father says. “Well, pleased to meet you, Ryder. I’m Jim and this is my wife, Vicky.”
I nod, thinking that maybe there isn’t anything more to Justine and me than an accumulation of stolen moments. I look at her, trying to figure out what she wants.
Friends? Really?
When I look at her though, I realize Justine is just protecting herself. There is fear in her eyes.
I see a woman who seems unsure of me, of what I want. Of my intentions.
Fuck, I can’t let that be true. I need Justine to know exactly where I stand.
“Your daughter and I are not friends, Jim,” I say evenly.
“No?” He looks at his wife and they both frown.
“No. I love your daughter, plain and simple.”
Chapter 23
Ryder
Justine looks at me with wide eyes as if she’s surprised I’m telling her parents how I feel. But I have nothing to hide and no one to protect but the woman standing before me.
But Jim doesn’t respond to my statement, and Vicky protectively puts an arm around Justine’s shoulders. “Aren’t you the man who kidnapped our daughter?”
“How do you know that?” Justine asks.
“EXPOSÉ,” Vicky answers. “They’ve been giving up-to-the-minute coverage on you. You went missing, Justine. Everyone has been worried sick.” She begins to sob and Jim pulls his wife into a hug.
“There, there, Vicky. Everyone is in one piece, everything is going to be okay.”
Justine shakes her head. “Not everyone is one piece. Luther has a bloody face and should be put in prison. And I can’t believe you’d believe anything that gossip column wrote. They don’t know anything about this. They weren’t with me the last twenty-four hours.”
“Then tell us what happened,” Vicky says.
“If you weren’t kidnapped by this man,” Jim says, pointing to me. “Why didn’t you call us? Do you know how terrified we’ve been? Poor Eileen has been a complete wreck. She felt responsible for you.”
Justine shakes her head. “No one is responsible for me. I am responsible for myself.”
Vicky shakes her head. “Justine, do you hear yourself? We thought you had...” She starts crying again, and Justine’s shoulders fall, realizing the pain she is causing her family.
But the truth is, this isn’t Justine’s fault at all.
“It’s my fault she didn’t call. We got caught up in the moment and didn’t think about anyone.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” her mom says. “Justine, did you plan to ruin the auction? Do you know how many people are covering this story right now? Every news source in the country is talking about the kidnapped virgin.”
Justine crosses her arms. “Well, I’m neither of those things, so they can stop talking about me.”
My eyes just about pop out of my eye sockets. Is she really talking about her virginity like this with her parents?
Her dad doesn’t seem to follow though. “Are you saying that man Luther took you against your will?” Jim is all choked up, his fists are clenched. He’s on fucking fire. “We were sent here
by the police, and they filled us in briefly, but if he hurt you, Justine, you should have an examination by a doctor. This evidence can be used in court when we sue his sorry ass.”
I can respect this man. His focus is on his daughter’s well-being, and it’s clear he’ll do what is necessary to get vengeance.
“It wasn’t Luther,” Justine says. “I mean, if Ryder had taken longer to find me, it might have been, but Luther didn’t touch me like that even though he wanted to.” Justine wipes a tear. “I know you respected my choice to do this auction, Mom, and Dad, but you were right to be worried, to doubt my plan.”
“Once you set your mind to something, Justine,” Jim says. “we know it’s useless to try and talk you out of it.”
“Well, I wish I had listened. If Ryder hadn’t taken me away from the auction, then I would have spent the night with Luther and he is a monster. I owe Ryder everything. He saved me.”
Vicky’s lips are pursed as she listens to her daughter’s story. “So I can kind of see how you are justifying not calling what Ryder did kidnapping, but if Luther didn’t touch you, why are you saying you’re no longer a virgin?”
Justine’s cheeks redden, and she shakes her head. “Mom, really. Do we have to do this?”
“What?” Vicky asks, raising her hands in question. “You brought it up.”
Both Vicky and Justine glance my way and I know there is no keeping this from Justine’s parents.
There is no time to try to get out of it, though, because Jim is already pouncing on me, stepping closer, but I don’t back up. I have nothing to back down for.
“You slept with my daughter?” he asks plainly, his eyes narrowing.
I clear my throat, and Justine tells her dad to calm down.
I’m not tiptoeing around here, and truth is, I think it’s kinda great her parents are so concerned. They care about their daughter, just like I do, and they want to make sure she is okay.
“I did, sir.”
“And was it just about sex?” he asks.