by Joya Ryan
His gray eyes looked over her and stopped on his hat atop her head. “I’m starting to see your fondness for a certain look. I think I just developed a crush on a cowgirl.”
She tipped her hat the way she’d seen people do in old west movies, then in her best Ryder Diamond impression, she said, “Not a cowgirl.”
“Maybe not, but I like my hat on you. I’d like it better if that was all you wore, though.”
His hot gaze had turned molten, and finally she was getting back to where she needed to be. There was safety in limiting what was between them to just sex. That was all she could offer, and that was all she could take.
Ryder sat forward and cupped her face. She braced herself for his kiss, was dying for it, but he kept a fraction of distance between them. His scent wrapped her up, almost as much as his heat.
“Whitney…” He whispered her name. “Thank you for the compromise. I’m…glad I know you.”
A fist closed around her heart, and a rush of air stuck somewhere along her windpipe. It was the most genuine thing she’d ever heard. Her skin felt like fabric, and Ryder was tearing at the seams of her entire being.
“I’m glad I know you, too,” she whispered.
He closed the last bit of space and kissed her. He dipped his tongue inside for a quick taste, then sat there—still, interlocked with her—and just…stayed.
Stayed in the kiss. Stayed in the moment. And she stayed right there with him, the feel of his firm lips and his sweet taste slowly seeping into her senses, like she truly recognized him. Knew him.
She wanted to see him—really see him—and have access to the entire strong man that was finally, finally, in her bed.
“Will you stand up?” she asked.
He looked at her for a moment, and then did as she asked. “Not loving the idea of leaving your body, sweetness,” he said, but he rose and stood at the foot of her bed.
She faced him, then got to her knees. The mattress dipped as she ran her hands along his torso and up his arms, making his open shirt fall away like white curtains off all that tan skin.
“I won’t let you go far,” she said and put his hat back on his head. The look of him shirtless, with low slung jeans and hard muscles, made her brain foggy. He was her dream man come to life.
She cupped his neck and trailed little kisses around his jaw to his chin. The clean-shaven planes of his face tickled her lips as she moved down his neck to his chest.
“Jesus, you feel so good,” he murmured. His head lolled back just a bit, and a calm happiness flooded her at Ryder Diamond standing there, letting her taste him.
He worked her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, then tugged on her shorts. Without taking her mouth from his skin, she shimmied out of her bottoms, and they soon were on the pile of other discarded clothes.
“Pink today,” he rasped, grazing his fingers along her lace panties.
She ran her hands down his chest, admiring all the hard ridges of his abs, and then she smoothed her palms over his sides, down his hips, and back up his rock hard stomach. She could stay there, on her knees, delivering sweeping touches across his impressive body for an eternity and never get bored.
She kissed the top ridge of his abs, nipping it, then moving down to the next set of defined muscles. And lower, until she ran her tongue along the V of his hips.
“You’re like my very own lollipop,” she said, biting and licking his hips as she unfastened his belt and pulled his jeans down until his hard cock was freed and bobbed in front of her.
He stepped from his pants and kicked them away. She’d thought his being shirtless was a sight, but Ryder Diamond put his own image to shame as he stood in nothing but a Stetson and a smile.
Her stomach flipped with butterflies, and the instant need to feel him everywhere.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked.
She delivered one wet kiss to the head of his shaft, then looked up and said, “Tell me.”
His gray eyes sizzled. “You make me feel like I’m climbing high and in control when I have a hold of you.” He wove his hands through her hair. “But then I realize it’s like trying to hold onto a strong, hot breeze. Soothing and sinful while it lasts, but then it knocks you on your ass and leaves you with the truth that you never had a good grip on it to start with.”
Her eyes searched his face. He was hitting her with so much honesty tonight it was heating up her chest in places that had long ago frozen over with ice.
“You’re holding on right now,” she said.
He nodded, his brow furrowing as his thumbs traced back and forth along her cheekbones.
“It would appear so.”
She wanted to please him. Feel him. Get lost in the lust and crazy passion only he made her feel. With a final kiss on his hip, she lay down on her back, her head hanging off the edge of the bed, and she looked up at him.
“Come here.” She opened her mouth.
The moment her intentions registered, the expression on his face was priceless. Awe and excitement transformed his handsome features as he took his hat off and tossed it across the room.
“You’re a damn dream, sweetness,” he said, holding his hard cock and stepping closer. He bent slightly to run the crown along her lips. Her head was hanging off the edge of the bed, elongating her neck as she stared up at him. She opened wider, waiting for him to close the last bit of distance.
She flicked her tongue out, urging him on.
“You ready?” he asked.
She nodded, and it was all the assurance he seemed to need. He pushed his cock into her mouth and groaned as inch after inch disappeared into her throat.
“Fuck, sweetness,” he moaned and leaned over her, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of her hips. He slowly withdrew, then thrust back in, surging in and out the way he would her core.
“Spread your legs wide for me,” he rasped.
She did, bending her knees and letting them fall wide. She heard the sound of ripping lace and felt the material tug and give way under his strong hand. He’d torn them clean off. She was left spread wide and bare. He growled with approval.
All she could see were his hard abs flexing right above her face as she sucked him over and over. And when she felt his hot tongue flick her clit, she jerked at the instant pleasure.
“I may be your lollipop, but you’re the best damn dessert I’ve ever had.” He took the little bundle of nerves between his lips.
She moaned around the thick cock in her throat, which made him tongue her faster. Harder. She concentrated on breathing through her nose while Ryder lashed her sweet spot with lick after lick.
Sparks flew across her skin, and she didn’t even feel her orgasm creep up, it simply hit like a bolt of energy, snapped across her body like lightning hitting a dry tree, splintering it down the middle. An internal storm surged, raining heat and power through her veins.
She moaned and writhed, but Ryder just kept eating at her like the dessert he’d described.
“I’m with you, sweetness,” he said. “I’m going to come…but I don’t want to. Not yet…” He kissed her once more, then pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath and trembling from aftershocks.
She barely registered him grabbing a condom from his discarded pants and putting it on. He moved her to the middle of the bed and was between her still-shaking thighs in record time.
“Climbing high,” he said, repeating his earlier words. She really made him feel like that? He made her feel crazed.
He sank inside of her with one long thrust. She spread her legs wider, trying to give him better access, but he gripped her knees and pulled them around his middle. “Cling to me. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs as he fucked her hard. Deep. Over and over, banging his hips against hers, looking for every last inch he could take. And she gave it to him.
“If I can’t hold on to you, you’ll hold on to me,” he rasped in he
r ear. He gripped her wrist and brought it to his shoulder. She clung to him. Like he wanted. Like she wanted. But she couldn’t admit that now. Because while Ryder might think she was the breeze blowing wherever she pleased, he was the clap of thunder that boomed down, taking over her whole world and leaving her with nothing but shivers and the vibrating aftershocks of all his power.
And she was starting to fear that he was the kind of storm she wouldn’t be able to escape.
So she would cling to him until it passed. Wrap both arms around his back and sink in her nails. And that’s what she did—gripped tighter than she’d ever gripped anything, while he moved inside her.
She arched her back and let him take her over the edge. A slow burn moved along her entire body, starting at her toes and stretching to her neck, pulling and warming everything in between until all her skin was sensitized and buzzing with his raw lust.
Her release was intense, hot, and unending.
“I feel you,” he said, thrusting deep and staying right there. His body tightened and shook. His cock inside her hardened further and shot with his own pleasure. Every inch of his skin flushed with heat, and she felt him turn on like a furnace as he spent himself.
And she was there, clinging to him, catching every last ounce he’d give her, and praying to God she didn’t have to let him go just yet.
Chapter Twelve
Ryder’s eyes creaked open, and he was greeted with a glaring light. It took several moments to realize he wasn’t in his bed, he was in Whitney’s. And she was gone. The pillow next to him was cold. His hat rested on the pillow, and a single note propped on it read:
Had to work early. Didn’t want to wake you. Have a good day, cowboy.
He grinned…until he caught sight of the clock.
“Shit!” He was late. Davenport would be at the job site today, and Ryder was fucking late meeting with him.
He hustled to get dressed, and on his way out, he fastened his hat on top of his head and looked in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself. He looked brighter. Rested, maybe? He’d slept better last night than he had in years, but it would be a hell of a price to pay for a good night’s sleep if he didn’t get his ass in gear.
Speeding from the lodge to Davenport Hall on Main took only ten minutes, and thankfully he had a button-down on and a Stetson to hide his bedhead. With any luck, Davenport was running a few minutes late himself. But when Ryder pulled up, he saw Davenport’s car already parked out front.
Ryder went in the main entrance, which smelled of fresh paint. At least the walls in the foyer were done.
Davenport was coming down the staircase. “Glad you showed up. I was just getting ready to leave.” His expression was blank except for a touch of tension at the corner of his mouth. Davenport’s reputation for “leaving” was legendary. If he left, he never came back. And neither did his business.
This was bad. Really bad.
Of all the days to be late—which Ryder never, ever was—it had to be today.
He’d gotten caught up. Once again. Worst of all, this time he’d let himself get distracted despite knowing the consequences. He’d known what spending time with Whitney would do to him, and he’d done it anyway, because more than knowing he’d enjoy it, he’d needed it. Needed her.
“The Hall looks great,” Davenport said. “Ready for the grand opening on Saturday?”
“All that’s left if for the paint to dry.”
“Yes.” Davenport looked out the front door. “I know you run a tight ship. Stay within budget and get work done promptly. I’ll admit, I had my doubts.” He glanced at the cabinet, which now had a perfectly fit piece of granite resting atop of it. “I want someone I can count on. Not just for the Hall, but for future contracts. I’m looking to build a business park over at the edge of Diamond County.”
That would be huge. Something like that would bring in jobs for the town and get new business into the community for years to come.
Ryder ran his hand over the rim of his Stetson. “Who do you think could handle the job?”
“I was thinking of Diamond Construction,” Davenport said, never one to miss a hint, but the long exhale that went with it made Ryder pause. “But I must say your absence this morning, tied up with a few things I’ve heard around town, makes me wonder if you’re really the man for the job.”
“This morning was not normal for me.” Ryder didn’t want to go into details. Hell, he couldn’t go into the details. Wasn’t that the point? “But I assure you that if you’re considering my crew, we’ll deliver as always.”
“So you’re not up and taking off?”
Ryder frowned. “Why would I do that? Diamond is my home.”
“Yes, but rumor is, you’ve been slipping. Seen with some out-of-towner and talking of running off with her.”
What the fuck?
When had he been seen with Whitney? Aside from the BBQ, they’d been careful not to let anyone find them doing anything that wouldn’t be seen as anything other than platonic.
Except they hadn’t, had they? That day he’d run into her at the paint shop. He’d thought they were being careful stealing a kiss in the back of the store, but all it would have taken was one passing person to see them.
And now he would pay the price for trying to satisfy his own impulses, his own desires. It was the cost of losing judgment and control.
Whatever he liked about Whitney, whatever he needed or wanted from her, couldn’t last. And it sure as hell was affecting his judgment and his lifestyle.
He’d realized last night that no matter how tightly he clung to Whitney, he couldn’t keep her within the boundaries he needed to function. He’d messed up this morning. And now, that mistake was messing with his job, his company, his future. Because showing up late to a meeting with a major hitter in town was not the best way to renew his confidence in Ryder.
He couldn’t blame Davenport for questioning his work ethic, just like he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for getting caught up and not setting a damn alarm. He had to stop kidding himself and go cold turkey on Whitney. Because having a hit of her only made the addiction grow.
I want what’s bad for me…
“I can assure you, I’m here to stay, as is my crew, and we’d seriously appreciate the opportunity to earn your business again.”
Davenport nodded once. “Good. Then I’ll seriously consider it.” Ryder didn’t miss the threat in his tone. “If all goes well on Saturday, we’ll chat more then.” He turned to leave, and Ryder glanced at the sunshine beaming down outside the doorway. “By the way, Clara mentioned you might save a dance for her at the event.”
“Of course I’ll save a dance for her,” Ryder said.
Davenport smiled, but that tension remained at the edges of his mouth. “I think that’s wonderful. It could be the first step toward what I’ve always imagined as a full partnership between our families.”
A single dance didn’t matter if it helped him maintain this contract and any future business from Davenport, but Jesus, the man was being about as subtle as an earthquake. Ryder couldn’t turn him down outright, but he was playing a very dangerous game. He’d have to do what was necessary to keep this contract, and then figure out the rest as it came.
The first step to holding this all together? He needed to get a grip. For real this time. Because Whitney would never be tied down, and Ryder couldn’t keep chasing her while his own future went up in flames from the fire she left behind.
Chapter Thirteen
“What is this for?” Whitney asked, opening the envelope Penny handed her. It was filled with cash.
“It’s a bonus,” Penny said. “Or an incentive, depending on how you look at it.”
“Incentive?”
“I’m catering the event at the Davenport Hall,” Penny clarified, and Whitney remembered Ryder mentioning the reopening of the facility. “Would you be interested in helping me? There’s so much food to make, but I really need help setting it all up at the e
vent, making sure the tables and trays stay full.”
Whitney glanced at the envelope in her hand. It wasn’t about the money. She’d help Penny for free. Which was why she handed her back the envelope.
“Of course I’ll help.”
Penny smiled. “Thank you so much. But you keep that.” She pushed the envelope back. “I hated to ask you because of the event itself. You’ll still have plenty of time to enjoy it, though.”
“I wasn’t invited,” Whitney said. “So I’m happy to be on food detail.”
Penny frowned. “Ryder didn’t invite you?”
“It’s cool.” She shrugged it off but didn’t feel any lighter. It didn’t fit into their arrangement, going to the reopening together. But still… “What I have with Ryder isn’t a public thing.”
“Do you want it to be?” Penny asked.
That single question stopped her breath short. Did she? Sure, she’d gotten weird feelings seeing him interact with Clara. She also saw how the town respected him, and while he was never fake, he never allowed himself to be real, either. The real kind of man she knew behind closed doors, at least.
“I don’t know if he would really want that,” Whitney said. From day one, Ryder had tried putting her into a box, like he did with everyone else. Did she want him? Yes. In public? Yes. But if that meant she’d have to take him as the closed off guy he presented to everyone else, she wasn’t interested.
“Don’t you think you should leave that up to him?” Penny offered. “I can tell you from personal experience, sometimes you have to stop being afraid of what someone might feel and just ask them to tell you.” She closed Whitney’s hand around the envelope of money. “Besides, I know you’re looking to move on sooner or later. This money will help. Unless you’re thinking of staying longer.” She smiled, making no secret of which option she hoped Whitney would take. “And then the money could definitely help, don’t you think?” The look on Penny’s face turned from happy to mischievous.