by Livia Grant
He was happy to oblige, letting his now hard cock slide through her wet folds, piercing her core slowly... reverently... lovingly. He yanked his lips from hers, needing to look into her eyes as he consciously made love for the first time ever.
Ryder Helms had fucked many women in his life, performing any number of extremely intimate actions between the sheets, but nothing in his life had prepared him for the intensity of his connection to the woman moving beneath him. She'd ruined him. These few days together would never be enough, yet they would be all that they had. As he stroked his shaft deeper with each thrust, he again started memorizing everything about this moment. He knew he'd recall it many times over in the coming years, his only tenuous connection to what he was losing. In that moment, he knew it was so much more than Khloe herself. He was losing his shot at a family. Children. The house with the white picket fence, or in the case of his love, the beach house in Malibu.
He felt his own tears streaking down his face, refusing to hide them from her, hoping they would bring her comfort later, helping her understand he'd told her the truth.
Khloe turned their D/s dynamic topsy-turvy by pressing against his chest, rolling their still linked bodies until it was Ryder's back flat against the mattress. She straddled him, pressing her slight weight down and holding his phallus as deep inside her womb as it could touch. His little minx rocked against him, treating him to a sexy ride like none other, lifting and falling erratically as they each enjoyed the sound of their bodies slapping together.
She toyed with him, proving how much power he'd ceded to her, bringing him close to his peak again and again, and then backing off, leaning down to suck on one of his nipples. He watched her confidence growing as she pushed his buttons in a way he'd never experienced before.
He was supposed to be letting her say goodbye in her own way, but too late he realized the error in his strategy. She had pulled him in closer. Giving him a glimpse of the more he'd be walking away from.
The emotions were too much. He wanted... no needed... control again.
He had her on her back in a flash, driving so deep she cried out. He let his desperation flare, yanking her knees up and out, pinning them down next to her ears and folding her in half.
Her only warning was his anguished cry of her name into the dark. His "Khloe!" marked the tip of his hardness bumping against her cervix, pulling a cry of physical pain from her to mingle with their emotional ache. He turned his body over to the sentiment, possessing her pussy with long, demanding strokes.
"Come with me, baby," he invited as hot spunk threatened to spurt from his cock.
He was hanging on by a thread. Precarious. Her request caught him off guard. "Promise me, Ryder."
She paused and he had to slow down his thrusts to keep from orgasming. "I'm not sure I can promise anything, baby."
Their bodies stilled in unison, recognizing they needed to sort things out before finishing.
She was panting as she continued. "Promise me... you won't leave without saying goodbye. At least give me that much."
He shouldn't make that promise. Any number of things could happen that would call for his sudden disappearance. He made the only promise he could in that moment.
"I promise I won't leave without at least getting a message to you through Davidson. I don't trust many people with your safety, but I do trust him."
"But..."
"Princess, I'll do my best to not disappear on you, but don't make me make a promise I may not be able to keep." He paused, their bodies still primed and ready to explode.
Her simple, "Okay," sealed their dealings. They loved each other. He'd promised to do his best not to leave her without saying goodbye. As sad as that was, that was the best they could muster at the moment.
He moved his hips again, slowly pumping into her, building their joint pleasure until they exploded together in one shattering completion. As his spurts of cum emptied into her body, he felt the last shred of control desert him, leaving him completely bare before her.
He pulled her to him as he rolled their linked bodies until he had her cradled on top of him again. The room was beginning to lighten with the coming dawn. Too soon it would be daylight and they would have to move forward, no matter how much each of them dreaded it.
They were both exhausted, but he was sure neither would sleep again that night, each refusing to waste one minute of their limited time together. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard her quietly say, "I love you, Ryder."
If only love was enough.
Chapter 22
"Whoa. What the hell happened to you?" Trevor greeted them at the elevator on the main floor of Runway the next morning.
"Shut up," Khloe quipped, unable to handle the pity she saw in her friend's eyes as he looked her up and down. Even though they weren't outside yet, she pulled the large sunglasses out of her purse, anxious to hide her bloodshot eyes. With any luck, Trevor would think they were hungover.
Her security guard turned his attention to Ryder next to her, reaching to pull her suitcase away as he added, "You don't look much better."
Ryder dished it back. "You heard the lady. Shut the fuck up."
Trevor grumbled, "Good morning to you, too," as he turned to lead the way towards the two-story glass entrance.
Khloe leaned heavily on Ryder as he stepped closer, wrapping his arm around her waist as they crossed the expansive dance floor. The only sign of life in the closed club was the distant sound of a vacuum cleaner and the burly security guard standing at the entrance, ready to unlock the door to let the VIP guests depart.
She was relieved they wouldn't see their trio of hosts in the light of day. Not only because she was unsure if she could look them in the face after watching them fucking each other like rabbits on the floor of Black Light the night before, but more importantly because she knew they would pick up on her utter despair.
The night before had been one of the best... and worst... of her life. She tried not to feel bitter that some of the highest highs of her personal life and career were colliding spectacularly with equally low lows, leaving her confused and shell shocked. She was still trying to internalize all that she'd learned from Ryder the night before, unable to accept with the same certainty as him that they had no future.
The simple touch of his hand as they dashed from the building into the waiting limo made her heart constrict with a desire so deep she thought she might die if he let go. She'd never felt this way about anything or anyone, and it terrified her.
Ryder pulled her into his lap as soon as he was seated in the luxury car. Her panic receded as his arms enveloped her. She snuggled against his shoulder, inhaling his unique scent to help calm her.
She hated how clingy she felt, but it couldn't be helped. She'd begged him to tell her the truth and like it or not, he had. Now she had to deal with the knowledge that he could, and probably would, leave her again as soon as her stalker was caught.
How ironic that twenty-four hours ago the worst scenario she could have thought of was never finding who had been terrorizing her, leaving her feeling forever insecure. Now, a few hours later, she'd give anything to never get to the bottom of the case if it would mean Ryder would stay with her.
She had tuned out the men, lost in thought. Ryder's words jarred her back to the present.
"I'll be in the theater office, watching the security monitors." To his credit, Trevor listened as Ryder took charge, laying out the plan to keep her safe at that day's event. "I emailed my office. They're sending over a package of top-end security equipment by courier. I'll need a few minutes alone with you to go through everything before we leave for the theater."
"Got it." Trevor hesitated before adding, "The office, eh? Which office would that be?"
"The 'none-of-your-damn-business' office," Ryder groused.
"Bullshit. You're nervous, and I get the impression nothing makes you nervous. So understandably, now I'm nervous. All I'm asking is for you to level with me
on what has you watching out the back window, afraid we're being tailed by the boogieman. And don't tell me Khloe's stalker has you rattled like this."
Khloe hugged Ryder closer, understanding for the first time the agony he must have been going through since returning to her life. Wanting desperately to protect her... yet knowing his presence put her in a different kind of danger.
"You should tell him," she whispered against his neck where she'd snuggled in.
"Khloe." It was a warning.
She didn't listen. "I trust him. You should too."
Ryder growled, running his fingers through his cropped salt and pepper hair with frustration. "I trust him too. That's not the problem. The more you both know, the more danger you're in."
"So you're active duty then?" Trevor was fishing for info.
Ryder shut him down. "Enough. All you need to know is that I have powerful enemies. Men who would relish taking out their revenge on the woman I love instead of me, which means they must never link me to Khloe in any way. Not at today's event. Not in the tabloids. Not ever."
Ryder paused long enough that the sound of her renewed crying filled the quiet of the enclosed space. "Shhh, baby. It's okay."
"It's not okay! It will never be okay!"
He rocked her gently, letting her cry it out until she felt the car coming to a stop. The Marriott was only a few minutes away from Runway. She needed more time to pull herself together before she could get out.
"Damn, the bloodhounds must have seen me leave and suspected I would be returning with Khloe. I recognize that group over there as some of the aggressive paparazzi that chase after her ruthlessly."
Ryder yelled to the driver through the small half-open partition. "Take us around to the loading dock entrance," before barking at Trevor to call the hotel's head of security to meet them there.
Fifteen minutes later, they had finally made it through the back of house corridors and into the housekeeper's service elevator that would take them to the penthouse suite. The industrial-sized elevator was slow and loud, yet unfortunately, not loud enough to mask the sound of her stomach growling with hunger.
"I'll order us up some brunch as soon as we get to the suite," Ryder promised.
"Oh goodie," she deadpanned, earning her a quick swat to her bottom.
Trevor did his best to ignore their intimacy as he let them know, "Ricky already has a buffet set up in the kitchenette of the suite for us and the staff. The team was starting to arrive when I was leaving. I'm guessing they'll all have eaten and be waiting for you by now."
They exited the elevator and only had a short distance to walk before they arrived at the double-doors labeled PRESIDENTIAL SUITE in large block letters. Trevor pulled out a packet of keys, handing one electronic card to Ryder.
"Hold up. Before we go in, give me a run down of everyone who you expect to be here today."
"Right now, it's just Cathy, her normal makeup artist, and Randy on hair. You haven't met Ricky yet, but he's trying to keep everyone on task. The dress designer has a crew here and then there are two general assistants who the studio sent over. I've met them before." He paused, before adding, "And, of course, the Kaplans are here. They booked the connecting room to stay close."
"Oh goodie again." This time, she glanced at Ryder, daring him to swat her ass.
He grinned. "I couldn't agree more."
Unfortunately, before Trevor could finish his listing, the booming voice of Dean Reynolds greeted them through the door.
Trevor's face contorted with anger. "And then Reynolds showed up as a surprise guest."
As they opened the door, the annoying voice of her ex could be heard as he chastised Ricky for ordering only flat water instead of sparkling.
Despite the tension in the room, Khloe had to fight the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of Dean's temper tantrum, particularly in light of the heavy shit going down in her life.
The bang of the heavy door slamming closed behind them drew everyone's attention to the new arrivals.
She was glad she'd left her sunglasses on. It gave her the courage to address her ex. "You know, Dean, if you don't like the refreshments in my suite, you are welcome to leave and order whatever you'd like up to your own room."
"There you are, snookems. I was getting worried about you," Dean dared.
Ryder's grip on her hand grew so tight she almost had to gasp.
Trevor moved farther into the room, putting himself between her ex and the angry man glaring at the pretty-faced actor who was too stupid to know he was about to get his mug punched if he didn't stop ogling her.
"Maybe you hadn't heard. This is my room, too," Dean spouted.
"Excuse me?" Ryder growled.
Trevor filled in the blanks. "Yeah. It's a good thing you stayed elsewhere because when I got back here last night, I found the Kaplans had so graciously invited Dean to share the suite. What did you say the reason was again? Oh yes, for appearance’s sake," he finished, glaring at Natalie Kaplan.
Khloe couldn't believe her ears. She couldn't have been more clear with her agent and her publicist about her feelings on spending even one single second longer with Dean Reynolds than was necessary. It was her turn to squeeze Ryder's hand so hard that he released his grip, wrapping his arm around her waist instead.
"Who's the new security guy, baby? You better hope the press doesn't find out you've been slumming it with gramps here."
Ryder moved so fast it took her breath away. One second he had his arm around her and the next he had Dean lifted off the ground several inches, his back slammed against the wall so hard several items on the nearby bookshelf rattled.
Everyone in the room stood frozen, looking shocked. Everyone except Trevor, who had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
"Everyone out except the Kaplans, McLean and Khloe." When no one started to move, Ryder added a stern, "Now!"
Ricky and the others quickly moved into action, shuffling towards one of the suite's bedrooms. Khloe held her breath, unsure what was about to happen. Only when the door slammed closed did Ryder speak again.
"Listen up, you piece of shit. You gave up your right to breathe the same air as Khloe the day you stuck your dick in Gloria Mining's snatch. If you ever talk to her again with anything other than respect and reverence I'm going to rearrange your face. Got it, snookems?" When Dean didn't answer, Ryder continued on. "Within thirty seconds of your feet hitting the floor, I expect your ass to be out of this suite. I don't care where you go, but it won't be here. Khloe will meet you on the carpet later where you'll keep your fucking hands to yourself. This will be your last public appearance with her. Ever. Got it?"
When Dean failed to answer, Ryder pulled him away from the wall a few inches and slammed him back again, this time knocking over several nearby books from the velocity.
"Okay. Okay. I got it," Dean shouted, finally struggling to free himself like a fish hooked on the end of a line.
Khloe had to fight the urge to giggle at the alarmed expression on Natalie's face. She was watching her publicist when Ryder added his final threat. "And Reynolds, God help you if I find out you've had anything to do with this stalker business. I've heard terrible things happen to pretty boys like you in prison."
Dean stopped struggling, his spray-on tan failing to hide how pale he'd turned at Ryder's promise. The sniveling cheater never uttered another word. As instructed, the second his feet hit the carpet, Dean Reynolds was hustling towards the door, never even looking back.
Khloe wanted to clap she'd enjoyed the entertainment so much, but she soon realized the show wasn't over yet. Ryder had turned his attention to the elder couple in the room, stalking towards them with such fervor that Natalie gasped, rushing to put the long kitchenette counter between them before shouting, "Don't you dare come near me, you barbarian! If you so much as touch me, I'll press charges."
Her pulse spiked watching her dominant lover take charge of the situation. He stopped short of the counter effectively trapping th
e Kaplans in the small kitchen. He crossed his muscular arms, staring her employees down with a glare that took her breath away. In that moment she had no problem visualizing Ryder as the dangerous man he'd assured her he was the night before. The knowledge brought a full body shiver, realizing how lucky she was to have him on her side.
The silent standoff continued for a full minute, until Ryder's clipped sentences directed at Hollywood's power couple revealed to her how close he was to losing his temper.
"Let me be clear. I want you gone. But for some reason, Khloe continues to want you here. She says you're the best at what you do, which I find hard to believe. For now, I'm deferring to her decision, but with the following conditions."
Bernie had stepped up next to his wife, forming a united front against Ryder. "Wait one minute, young man. You're in no position to demand conditions. You're here because I've allowed it."
Khloe could no longer be a spectator. Bernie's words infuriated her. She rushed to stand next to Ryder, as she shouted, "Enough! Ryder is here because I want him here, and I don't give a shit what you and Natalie want, Bernie. I've had enough of you ignoring my wishes. You know damn well I don't want Dean anywhere near me, yet you invite him here. I don't want to turn my stalker problem into a publicity stunt, yet you keep leaking shit to the press, and setting up interviews I don't want and never should have had to do. And the worst thing is, you were supposed to arrange to keep the crowd at bay at the Chinese Theater, yet hundreds of people were within touching distance of me."
Natalie's sour voice cautioned her. "Don't be naive, Khloe. Fame is fickle. You'll only get one chance at this. Our email box is full of up and coming artists, desperate for us to make them a star like we've done for you."