I open it up to see they had started out talking about me, but when I didn’t respond, the conversation quickly turned to my cousin Angela. And she is clearly avoiding them. She’s the only one out of the eight of us in there who hasn’t read them, and I know as well as all the others that she is a social media whore.
I type them a quick message that we landed. I go on to remind my mother that I miss and love her too and that I will call her when we get to the apartment. I place my phone back in my purse when an annoying alarm sounds, warning us of our luggage, and then the belt begins to move. I sit there for another ten minutes while everyone else grabs their luggage, and of course, ours is the last to pop up. I literally cringe when Becca’s Louis Vuitton luggage bounces around on the conveyor belt. I reach over and pick hers up off the belt since I’m taller than she is and can reach them easier.
I’m pulling my last bag off the belt when I hear his voice.
“Welcome home, B.”
I drop the last heavy suitcase on the ground and look over my shoulder to see Becca hugging Ryder. I stare at him as he spins her around. He looks much different than he did just a week ago. When I saw him on the beach, he had looked like any other tourist with his shorts and muscle shirt. But right now, he stands out in a way that makes my mouth water and my heart rate speed up. He looks like a million dollars. Like a model who belongs on the cover of GQ. He’s wearing a dark gray tie that hangs loosely around his neck as if he undid it but forgot to remove it with a white button up shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. He’s wearing a black watch on his left wrist along with black slacks. His dark hair is spiked messy yet looks like perfection. The sides cut short. His face freshly shaved.
He stops spinning her around, and his dark green eyes lock with mine. He smiles as he catches me staring at him. I check to make sure my mouth is closed and straighten my back but can’t look away. He lets her go and then he’s walking over to me. He’s only a couple of feet from me, but it feels like seconds tick by as he makes his way to me.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says as he slides his hand into my hair. I remain speechless as he tilts my head back, forcing me to look up at him. He touches me as if he doesn’t even have to ask. I like that. His eyes search my face as a smirk grows across his face. “Just as beautiful as I remember,” he says quietly before pressing his lips to mine.
Goose bumps break out over my body as his lips softly touch mine. My eyes grow heavy as if his lips have drugged me; unable to keep them open, they close, and I moan as he slides his tongue between my lips. My body instantly reacts to it as my tongue dances with his and takes my breath away. Without thought, I wrap my arms around his neck and moan into his mouth. His free hand wraps around my waist and pulls me closer to him. I tilt my head to the side and open my mouth a little more to allow him to deepen the kiss, and he doesn’t disappoint.
We stand in the middle of JFK, making out like we’re long-lost lovers. As if he’s been off in battle, and I’ve been waiting back at home impatiently. He kisses me as if he already owns me, and I allow him to do it. His lips feel so good against mine. His mouth warm, his tongue soft. He holds me tightly to him as he reminds me just how good Florida felt over a week ago. And it’s a good thing because my legs are starting to buckle. I can feel his arousal pressing against my lower stomach, and my thighs tighten as I remember how good he felt inside me. Pull away, Ashlyn, my mind demands, but like a rebel, my body begs him for more as I try and mold myself to him.
He slows down the kiss and pulls away. I open my heavy eyes to look up at him. “Ryder …” I breathe. “What… was that… for?” I find myself asking although I grip him tighter. I couldn’t care less why he did it. Taking a deep breath, the smell of a rich cologne hits me, and it makes my eyes flutter from the power behind it. Have you ever smelled something so good that it makes your mouth water? It’s kinda like how your mouth reacts when you smell a pickle. His cologne has the same effect on me, and I can’t wait to taste him again.
He smiles down at me like he knows how he is affecting me. “Everyone deserves a proper welcome to New York, sweetheart,” he replies simply. I go to open my mouth, but he lets go of me and stands back. “Come on; let’s get all the bags.” Without question, he reaches down and grabs my three bags. I watch him throw one over his shoulder and turn, walking away from me as he pulls the other two behind him. My eyes go straight to his ass. The way his black slacks pull tightly against his perfectly sculptured ass … I fist my hands down at my side ‘cause the crave to squeeze those cheeks is strong.
When I finally look away, I notice that Jaycent must have come with Ryder because he is helping Becca with her bags. “I can get those,” I tell Ryder when I manage to pull myself out of my trance.
He snorts, looking back at me over his shoulder. “I know,” he says with a wink and then stops to talk to Jaycent and Becca. I smile and follow him. My eyes continue to linger on his ass a little longer than they should, but I can’t help it. It looks fucking fantastic in those tight black slacks. And his legs … The pants hug his thighs perfectly and flare out around his shiny black shoes. His white button up shirt pulls tightly on his shoulders as his muscles flex from holding and pulling my bags. I lick my lips, and a taste seems to linger that I didn’t notice when I kissed him. Whiskey? Is that what made me react the way I did? Did that one kiss get me drunk? I shake my head, trying to get back to reality.
We make our way outside, and the guys walk up to a black Escalade. “We’re not taking a cab?” I ask Becca.
“No,” she says simply.
I bite my lower lip because I’m sure a car is much more than a taxi, and I don’t have any cash on me at the moment. Becca steps off onto the pick-up lane, and Jaycent opens the back door for her. She crawls in, and he follows her. I make my way to the back of the SUV as Ryder puts my last bag in. He shuts the back and turns to walk to the door. I place my hand on his arm and stop him. “How much is this?” I ask.
He smiles as if I said a joke. “I’m free, baby,” he says, taking a step to me.
I chuckle at his joke. “The car. How much is the car ride? I don’t have any cash on me. Do they take cards?”
“It won’t cost a thing.”
“I don’t understand.” No one drives people around for free.
He places his hand on my shoulder. “It won’t cost you a thing. This is my driver, Milton.” Then he spins me around and leads me to the door.
I want to ask him what he means by his driver? And won’t cost me a thing. But the tall buildings and bright lights of New York distract me as they light up the dark night.
I look out the window like a little kid in the candy store, amazed at all the incredibly large buildings. I’ve never even been to New York, but it looks nothing like it does in the movies. It looks so much more amazing, breathtaking. Buildings so tall, I can’t even see the tops of them. Buildings so big, I’m not sure how they were ever built this close to one another. I look at the clock on the dash, and it reads a little after midnight. It took us around nine hours to get here. Even with it being this late, crowds of people are still everywhere I look. And the traffic—I can see why Becca said most people take cabs. I would have terrible road rage if I had to drive myself around here.
“How was the flight?” I hear Ryder ask from beside me.
“Good,” I answer, not turning to look at him.
“You girls must be tired,” Jaycent adds. “I know flying wears me out.”
A building catches my eye that looks like a castle. It’s not as tall as the others, but it’s wider than most and has several different towers with black tinted glass. I mumble my answer as I look it over. “Something like that.”
They quit talking to me, letting me take in this beautiful city as we continue to our destination.
Twenty minutes later, the car comes to a stop, and I have to tilt my head back to look at the top of a white building with a black awning. “It’s so big,” I say in
amazement.
“The biggest,” Ryder whispers in my ear. “One even considers me a sex God.”
I spin around and slap him in his hard chest, and he laughs. “Don’t get cocky,” I warn him.
We get out of the Escalade. Men are already waiting for us with a cart for our luggage. Ryder takes my hand, and I don’t pull away as he guides me up a set of stairs, while the men pushing the cart take a ramp to the side. Ryder opens the revolving glass door, allowing us to enter the lobby.
The floor is a light colored tile. Every fifth tile, the light colored is replaced with a dark brown to add some color. A desk sits to the right against the wall. Five men stand behind the counter. They all raise their hands and say their hellos to Ryder. I notice the last one, the youngest looking one, looks down at Ryder’s hand holding mine, and I don’t miss the surprise in his blue eyes.
Three men stand to the left dressed in all-black suits and ties, holding their hands behind their back. They each nod to us, and Ryder wishes them a good night by name. “It’s beautiful,” I say more to myself than anyone else.
We finally make it to the elevator back around a corner. I look at myself in the mirrored walls as the doors slide closed. I look like crap. I have no makeup on, and my hair is down but a mess from the plane rides. I look over at Ryder and Jaycent, who are laughing at something Becca said. They look so well put together. They both look business in their suits and ties. Even Becca is dressed nicely in a cute sundress. Her hair is fixed, and she has some mascara and lip-gloss on. Did she have that on earlier?
I look like some rat they just picked up in the sewer. I make the rest of the way up in silence, and I’m beginning to wonder how far we have to go when it finally dings and comes to a stop on the thirty-fifth floor.
The doors slide open, and I follow them off the elevator. Ryder’s still holding my hand, using his free hand to produce a key card out of the front pocket of his slacks and slides it in. The door clicks, and Ryder shoves it open. Jaycent and Becca walk in first.
My mouth falls open as Ryder and I walk in. The apartment looks like something you would see on Cribs. It’s bigger than any other house I have been in before. I definitely can’t afford it. Hell, I probably can’t even afford the elevator key card. I should have known. Becca’s family is wealthy, after all. And I don’t mean wealthy in the sense that they take vacations on the other side of the world. I mean they are wealthy as in billionaires. You wouldn’t know it by looking at Becca because she’s not that girl who wears a Prada purse on her shoulder with the heels to match. Her LV luggage that her mother gave her last year for her birthday might, though. But she grew up living in mansions. They had nannies and chefs. Her dad owns a multi-billion-dollar company, and I should have known that he wasn’t gonna buy his daughter a small studio apartment.
“Something wrong?” Becca asks.
“Yes.” I nod my head slowly. “How did we … I …” I lick my lips, which are all of a sudden dry as three sets of eyes stare at me curiously. “I can’t live here,” I finally say.
“Why not?” Ryder asks.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RYDER
Her eyes bug out at my question. I take a step towards her and pull her to the side as Jaycent and Becca tour the apartment. “What’s wrong with it?” I ask her.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asks in disbelief. “How about it’s out of my price range,” she whispers harshly.
I laugh. “My father bought this for Becca. You don’t have to worry about paying rent.”
“I can’t even afford the electric bill,” she snaps.
“Ashlyn …”
She pulls away from me and walks very slowly over to the windows in the living room that overlook Manhattan. She very gently presses her hands to the glass. “I mean. Look at this view,” she says in awe. “Have you ever seen something as beautiful as this?”
Yes. You. Instead, I say, “It is breathtaking.” My eyes scan over her jeans and worn-out gray AC/DC t-shirt. Her blond hair is down, stopping at the middle of her back. It’s messy but looks like she spent time to get it that way. My eyes scan the shape of her ass and legs in her jeans until I get down to her black Chucks. Even up here in this fancy apartment, I think of the beach. I can still hear the rainfall as I hold her in my arms on that balcony. I clear my throat as my dick starts to harden.
“You made that sound like it was a problem,” I say, making my way next to her.
She turns to face me, and I look down at her face. Her eyes are a little red and her shoulders slump. Even tired, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The lights from the buildings around us shine on her face. They light up her crystal blue eyes like shining stars. I can’t help myself as I reach up and run my knuckles down the side of her soft skin. She pulls away from me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I don’t belong in a place like this.” Her eyes scan the tan and white furniture that you would see on the cover of a magazine. The extravagant paintings my mother had bought at a photo gallery hang on the tan walls. That’s one thing my mother did for her. She fully furnished this apartment for Becca. But I know my sister better than my mother does because this is not how my sister would have decorated her apartment.
“Why would you say that?”
“I’m not like you, Ryder.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She runs a hand through her hair as she sighs. “I didn’t grow up with nannies, prep school, or in the tabloids. This …” She holds her hands out to her sides and opens them wide. “People like me don’t belong in places like this.”
“Why do you keep saying you don’t belong here?” I ask frowning.
“I can’t afford it.”
“I told you that you don’t have to pay for it.” Her jaw sharpens as if grinding her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, Becca didn’t want this place either,” I say truthfully. She isn’t like me. She doesn’t have to have the fastest car. Or spend thousands a week on clothes. She never was that way. She feels like that money is our parents’ and not hers to use. I may have a trust fund, but I don’t touch it. I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am today.
“I was in my dad’s office when he told Becca over the phone that he had bought her an apartment in Manhattan. The first thing she asked him was the address. That told her where it was and how much it cost him. She told him thank you, of course, but even I could tell she wasn’t happy.”
She places her hands on her hips. “So this is why Becca didn’t show me pictures of our place. ‘Cause she knew I wouldn’t live here.”
I place my hand on her face, guiding her head back to where she has to look up at me. “It’s paid for. No worries. I promise.”
“I’m not one to live off someone else, Ryder.”
“I don’t think that.”
“Then what were you thinking?” she growls.
“Honestly. I think you are overreacting.”
Her eyes narrow on me, and she takes a step back. “I’m not in the mood to do this with you, right now.”
“Do what?” This woman confuses the hell out of me. I shouldn’t care that she isn’t throwing herself at me like that first night in Panama City. Why did I think she was going to rip her clothes off and spread her legs for me? And why can’t I get that image out of my head? Instead, we’re arguing about money.
“Argue with you about something you won’t understand.” She goes to walk away from me, but I move quickly to stand in front of her to block her.
“Understand what exactly?”
She runs a hand through her hair as she lets out a long breath. “Look, I’m just tired. I just need to go to bed.”
I want to ask her to come up to my apartment, but I know she’ll turn me down. I know the difference between a hint and someone flat out denying you. And her statement was not an invitation for me to offer her a night in my bed.
“Okay. I’ll take your things to your room, and you can
get some rest.”
She turns back to look out the window. “I can do it,” she says flatly, and I wait for her eyes to glaze over as she stares out over the city before I make my move and put her things in her room. She can be mad at me all she wants, but it’s gonna be for being a gentleman. Somehow, I knew it was gonna be harder than I wanted it to be.
ASHLYN
Nothing but buildings for miles. It’s well after midnight, but the city is lit up with lights from the windows of all the buildings. Cabs below look like ants as they slip in and out of traffic.
I lift my hands and place them on the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The coolness of being this high up makes me break out in goose bumps. Placing my forehead on the window, I sigh. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
I look out over the city in amazement. It takes my breath away as I look at the wonderful view.
Turning around, I take in the apartment. It is like a fairy tale. The floors are white hardwood with a light gray insert. I can see the kitchen and dining room from where I stand. The dining room table has a tall glass vase with fresh red roses in it. Becca’s mother must have put them there for her. The vase sits on a glass kitchen table. Eight white high back chairs surround the table. The closer I look; I can see silver beads outline them. A silver chandelier hangs over the table.
The kitchen is just as spectacular. White cabinets and light gray countertops. I look down at my feet to the white hardwood floors and realize I still have my shoes on. I quickly take them off and pick them up in my hands, afraid I will dirty up the large gray and blue rug that covers the span of the living room. Two white couches are sitting up against the window. A soft yellow and blue throw pillow decorate the couches, giving the room just a pop of color.
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