by Ivy Smoak
And then he caught me.
“Hey!” I screamed. “You promised not to look.”
He laughed. “So did you.” His eyes traveled to my bra.
I put my arm over my chest. “I was just checking to make sure you weren’t looking!”
“So was I.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine.”
“Fine.” He couldn’t even hide the smile from his lips.
We both turned back around and got back to dressing. The red dress was just stretchy enough to fit over my big ass. But when I pulled it up around my chest, I realized that I had entirely the wrong bra for it. T-shirt bras and cocktail dresses were generally not compatible, especially dresses with necklines as deep as this one. Guess I have to let the girls free.
I checked to make sure Ryder wasn’t peaking again and then unhooked my bra. His head started to turn at the sound of it, but he was a gentleman and stayed true to his word. He also looked fantastic in his tight boxer briefs…which I shouldn’t have been looking at.
“All done?” he asked a few seconds later.
“Yup. You?”
“Mhm.”
We both turned around. He gave me the up-down, which I guess in this case was okay since he was checking to see if the dress fit. Fine, it would have been okay either way. I wanted him to look at me.
“It looks perfect,” he said. “But it’s missing something.”
Yeah, a bra. Were my nipples everywhere? They probably were. They always acted up at the worst times.
Instead of a bra, he tossed me a pair of strappy black heels.
“Are you sure these are the best shoes for an escape?” I asked.
“Would you rather wear sneakers with that dress?”
“I’m not sure I’ll even be able to walk in these.” They were at least five inches tall…exactly the kind of shoes that Joe would have hated me wearing because he was a short loser. Which made me think: is this my first wish coming true? I had wished for shoes. And revenge on Joe. Half of that had now been fulfilled.
“You’ll figure it out,” Ryder said. “Just don’t step on any grates. And avoid sand. Or anything soft.”
I started to strap them on. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert at walking in heels. Do you do it often?”
“No, I design…” he started coughing. Or fake coughing. For the first time, my stalker was the one who was tongue-tied. But he recovered quickly. “My calves would look amazing in heels. Don’t be jealous.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. He was right. They would. But he’d also look super gay. I much preferred the shiny black dress shoes he had just laced up. Add in the tuxedo he’d stolen from whoever owned this apartment, and he looked amazing. I didn’t know where our escape was headed, but part of me wanted to take it right onto the king-sized bed.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the hallway.
So much for taking it to the bed.
My heart was pounding as the elevator opened. I kind of expected us to be immediately swarmed by FBI agents. But instead it was empty. Ryder held the door for me.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked.
“Get a taxi. Go get some dinner far away from here. Wait for things to cool down. And then go back to our normal lives and forget any of this ever happened.”
Dinner with my stalker sounded perfect. But forgetting about him forever? No way. Was that really what he wanted?
Ryder hailed the first taxi we saw. And it stopped! What the hell, taxi drivers? It always took me like twenty tries to get them to notice me. But when a man like Ryder waved them down, they didn’t think twice. Maybe all taxi drivers were gay and couldn’t resist chauffeuring hot men around all day. Figures.
We switched cabs a few times before arriving at our destination: Trilogy. It was a super fancy restaurant that had just opened a few months ago. Chastity couldn’t stop talking about how much she wanted some hunk to take her here. And by take her here, I mean get freaky with her in the bathroom.
I was too busy looking around at all the crystal chandeliers to listen to what Ryder said to get the hostess to give us a table, but whatever he said, it worked. He probably flirted with her. I glared at the little two-cent trollop as she showed us to our table. Stay away from my stalker!
“So are we safe?” I asked.
He nodded. “I believe so. Which means we get to sit back and enjoy our dinner.”
How was he so relaxed right now? The freaking FBI was after us and he was calmly perusing the menu like it was a normal night. But he also probably hadn’t tried to rape a doctor recently.
“What are you gonna order?” I asked.
He laughed like I’d just made a joke. “That’s a good one. Which course are you most excited for?”
I looked back at the menu. It was just a list of the seven courses we would be eating, whether we wanted to or not. I thought I’d learned a lot about food while completely reinventing the recipes for Dickson & Son’s Sugarcakes (yes…that was really the name of Joe’s family bakery), but this menu was beyond me. I didn’t understand a word of what was on it.
“What in the world is a balut?”
“Wow, it’s been years since I’ve had a balut. Takes me back to my days in Cambodia.” He pulled out his notebook and jotted something down. Looked around the restaurant. And made another note.
Takes him back? He didn’t look that old. And hadn’t he left that notebook in his other suit? “Did you grow up there?”
“What?” He shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, uh. No. Just visited. Anyway, you were asking about baluts? They’re boiled fertilized eggs. Absolutely delectable.”
I gagged a little.
“They’re also our fourth course, apparently,” added Ryder. “Well, I guess for me it’ll be my fifth course.”
“Huh?” I asked.
A smile played on the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, my first course was that blueberry pie you tossed in my face.”
My eyes got wide. Oh God, he does remember. It was too late to duck under the table. He’d already seen me since we’d been hanging out for a while now. What the hell do I do? Where was a dumpster or a lake when I needed it? Maybe there was a lobster tank somewhere around here…
“Did you really think I didn’t see you? You know there was a window in the door, right?”
I could feel the heat rushing to my face. There was no escaping this awkward conversation. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I could feel your remorse. Especially when you laughed and ran away.”
Was he mad? Shit, he was mad. “I’m so so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was actually kind of cute.”
Cute? I didn’t want him to think I was cute. I wanted him to think I was a sex goddess. Raven Black the seductress. “You can throw a pie in my face if it makes you feel better.” Great, that was super sexy. Not.
He laughed.
“I’ll just stand there and take it, I swear.”
“Oh, I know you will, baby.” He leaned forward slightly. “But it’s not going to involve a blueberry pie.”
Holy shit. I crossed my legs under the table. He was staring at me so intently. What did he mean by that? Was he going to take me back to a sex dungeon? Was he going to bend me right over this table in front of all these people? Maybe they were Society members. The guy at the table next to us was wearing a black watch. But no one else was. And the Society had just been shut down by the FBI. Or maybe he just meant the pie would be lemon meringue instead of blueberry.
“Don’t turn around,” said Ryder. His playful smile was gone. “But a Gestapo agent just walked in.”
“Gestapo?!” I whispered yelled. “Now Nazis are chasing us too? I thought it was just the FBI?”
“Right. I meant FBI. I always get those two mixed up.”
Was that some sort of weird political commentary about the FBI being a bunch of Nazis? If so, I might have finally met someone as strange as me. I started to turn around to get
a look.
He grabbed my hand. “I said don’t look.”
Oops. But it was really hard not to look when he specifically told me I couldn’t. I wanted to see what he thought a Nazi looked like. Probably bald and fat. Or would they have Hitler-staches?!
“I’m going to pretend to go to the bathroom. In twenty seconds, calmly put your napkin on the table and meet me at the kitchen doors. Just do as I say and everything will be fine.”
Fine? “Don’t leave me out here.”
“I’m not leaving you. I promise.” His thumb slowly ran down my palm as he stood up. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Of course he thought everything would be fine! He was leaving me as bait!
Chapter 19 - Holy Meaty Goodness
Tuesday
I’d hardly processed Ryder’s escape instructions when he calmly walked away.
Oh my God, he left me. Why hadn’t he let me disappear first like a freaking gentleman? I counted down from twenty, trying not to completely freak out. But I panicked and jumped from ten to one and threw my napkin on the table. I rushed to the kitchen, not doing anything calmly at all. And I was both relieved and a little surprised that Ryder was standing there waiting for me. He hadn’t left me as bait for the FBI. We were in this craziness together.
Ryder grabbed my arm and pulled me through the swinging doors. We nearly knocked a platter out of a waiter’s hand.
“May I help you?” asked the waiter with more than a hint of sass in his voice. God, he was just like that rude barista at the smoothie shop I hated. To clarify, I’m saying that I hated both the barista and the smoothie shop. The barista for the sass and always writing “Ass” on my cup. And the smoothie shop itself for selling disgusting smoothie flavors.
Ryder ignored him and pushed past another waiter. Then he shoved a cook out of the way and knocked over a rack of pastries to block anyone from following us.
“Hey!” shouted someone. “You can’t be back here!”
This was probably where we’d get arrested. But I was pleased that Ryder was the one making the mess instead of me. Usually I was the one knocking things over. And even though Ryder was doing it on purpose…it was still his fault not mine. I needed to take this man with me everywhere.
“Run,” said Ryder.
I heard more commotion from the front of the kitchen, where the FBI agents had probably just come in. Run. Okay. That was a good plan. Plus running was on my list of new things to try. I’m fucking outta here. I kicked my shoes off and ran through the kitchen. A busboy narrowly avoided being turned into a pancake by Ryder. We burst into a stairwell. Ryder grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall.
“Shouldn’t we keep running…” my voice trailed off as he leaned in to kiss me. But he stopped a fraction of an inch before his lips met mine. What is he doing? Was I supposed to lean in? Were we still supposed to be running? I breathed in his exhales as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Was he waiting for my permission? You have it, sir.
As it turned out, he wasn’t waiting for my permission. He was just waiting for an FBI agent to pass. Because as soon as we were alone, he pulled back.
“Phew, that was close,” he said, completely ignoring the fact that we’d almost kissed. And that I was so turned on that I was practically panting.
Seriously…why did the combination of almost getting arrested and being pressed up against a wall by a stranger have me all hot and bothered? Probably because my stalker was hardly a stranger. We’d known each other through silent stares for months. And his lips had looked so utterly kissable for just as long. My gaze dropped back down to his mouth.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “All this running has me famished. Come on, I know the perfect place.”
“Oh. Um…” I looked down at my bare feet. But before I could protest, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me out to the street where he was able to hail another taxi on his first try. The cab stopped near the Caldwell hotel, which I thought was way too close to where the original FBI raid had happened.
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere far away from here?” I asked.
Ryder shrugged. “Only an amateur would come back to the scene of the crime. They’d never expect that from me. And hence…it’s the perfect place to go.”
So he wasn’t an amateur…what? Murderer? Burglar? Stalker? An amateur what?! I was tempted to tell the driver to step on it when Ryder climbed out of the car. But…how could I walk away now? If we’d really somehow avoided the FBI, this was my one chance to really get to know my stalker. And I’d been dying for this moment for months.
Before I could decide what to do, Ryder nonchalantly picked me up out of the taxi and carried me over to a food cart. It didn’t have a name. The sign just said GYROS in big bold Greek-looking letters.
“You’re going to show my underwear to everyone!” I said, pulling on the hem of my dress.
“Lucky them,” he replied. “You know, I’ve been wondering. How many kinds of foot fungus are on the average New York City sidewalk?”
I suppressed a gag. But I was also kind of impressed. I don’t think any other guy I had ever met would have been aware of sidewalk foot fungus. Or would have been willing to carry me around like a sack of potatoes to keep my bare feet away from said fungus. “If you drop me, I’ll kill you.” Why did I keep threatening to murder him?
For a second he looked at the ground like he was actually going to drop me.
“I’m joking! Please don’t put me down.”
There was that smile again.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said.
And he stayed true to his word. He carried me all the way to the front of the line and held me while the guy made our gyros.
I couldn’t help but notice how strong he must have been. I wasn’t one of those spin class Odegaard models. I had a little meat on my bones, and he just carried me around like I weighed nothing. I tried my best not to nuzzle against his strong chest. Because that would have been weird…right? Maybe if I just…
“These are the best gyros in town,” he said.
Good, he’d distracted me from doing something awkward. I couldn’t nuzzle his chest. I wasn’t a cat. “Is that how it’s pronounced? I always thought it was jie-roes.”
The vendor gave me a dirty look.
“Have you never had a gyro?” asked Ryder.
“Nope.” I’d also never been carried around NYC before, and I was loving that. I was down for trying something else new tonight.
Ryder’s cellphone rang and he somehow answered it without dropping me. He listened to whoever was on the other end.
I leaned in a little closer, doing my best not to nuzzle as I eavesdropped. But the only thing I overheard was “safe.”
Ryder breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Marty. That was a close call. I really thought…” He looked down at me like he’d suddenly forgotten I was in his arms. “I gotta go. Keep me updated.” He hung up and cleared his throat. “So you’ve really never had a gyro, huh?” he asked, like his phone conversation hadn’t even happened.
“No.” What was all that about a close call?
“Well that’s good news for me. Because you’re going to be so blown away by how delicious it is that you won’t even be mad when I tell you that the FBI wasn’t actually the…well…I just made up the whole thing.” He shrugged.
“What?! I’m going to kill you!” I hit his chest, but instead of repeating the action, my fingers splayed across his muscles. I’d never touched something so perfect before. I was pretty sure my jaw dropped. Oh, I should have been nuzzling this whole time. I needed those muscles against my face. God, I really was a pervert. The real FBI would be after me soon enough.
“You’ve threatened that a lot tonight. So much so that if you actually were planning on killing me it would be suspicious. So I don’t believe it for a second. Here, taste this.” He shoved a gyro in my open mouth.
I reluctantly took a big bite. Holy meaty goodness, he was right.
“Well that’s amazing. But I’m still going to kill you.” I hit his arm and immediately squeezed his bicep. God, stop being a pervert! I let go of his arm. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” I’d been moments away from a heart attack all night. And it was all a lie for…what? Why was he a dirty liar?
“How else could I have convinced you to take a zipline across the street and get you to change into this sexy little dress?”
“So this was all a punishment for me not dressing up enough? Frankie was right to warn me about you.”
“She warned you, did she? What’d she say?”
“That your penis doesn’t work and your bones are made of asbestos. Or something like that.”
Ryder smiled. “I can prove she’s lying about one of those things very easily.” He force-fed me more gyro, like he was trying to distract me.
I took another bite to placate him. Only because it was so good.
His eyes locked with mine. “I like how receptive you are to me shoving things in your mouth.”
I almost choked on the gyro. “Only delicious things.”
He smiled down at me. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean your dick is delicious.” Cocky, arrogant…gorgeous jerk. He could put whatever he wanted in my mouth. I sighed as I looked up at his beautiful face.
“So you were thinking about putting my dick in your mouth?”
“Ew, no.” Maybe. Yes. Yes, I 100% was.
“I don’t mind if you were. I just think we should get to know each other a little first. We have quite a bit we need to discuss. Want to come back to my place so we can talk?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He just turned and carried me toward the Caldwell Hotel.
“I never said yes. This is kidnapping.” But I didn’t even bother to squirm in his arms. I never wanted him to let me go. Honestly, I’d known he was a stalker all along. Kidnapping made sense. And I was here for it.
“I’ll put you down any time you want. Just say the word.” He stared at me, daring me to ask for an uncurable foot fungus. I stayed silent, so he continued to carry me into the building and onto the elevator. Then he plopped me down on the ridiculous comfy sofa in his two-story great room.