Claimed by the Bad Boy

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Claimed by the Bad Boy Page 12

by London Saint James


  “Ryker,” she greeted.

  He bobbed his head. “Hello, Mrs. Monroe.”

  “What are you doing here of all places?”

  “I was with Molls when Nate called, so I brought her.”

  She glanced around him. “Is Molly with Mary?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She reached up and patted his shoulder in a classic mother move. “It’s good to see you, dear. It’s been a long time.”

  He grinned. “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Monroe.”

  “Well, dear. I better get to my daughters.”

  “All right.” He sidestepped to let her pass. “Will you tell Molly I’m headed to the waiting room?”

  “Of course.” She fiddled with one of her pearl earrings. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother,” she said, strolling away.

  ***

  After downing two Cokes and a pack of Skittles from the vending machine, pacing a bit, and texting his brother, Ryker had taken a seat on one of the comfortable leather chairs in the waiting area. He kicked his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, and read an article about the solar system in an outdated copy of Discover magazine when a familiar female voice drifted in his direction.

  Glancing over top the magazine in his hands, he saw Red. Not the color, the bartender from The Cherry Bomb. She’d strolled in, talking animatedly on a cell phone.

  When she saw him, she grinned wide.

  “Pats,” she said. “Can I call you back?” There was a pause. “Okay. I’ll call you later.” She tugged her purse open and plopped the phone inside. “Ryker. What a surprise.”

  Shit, he thought, placing the magazine on the table beside his chair. “Yeah. A surprise.”

  She flipped some of her hair over her shoulder. “How are you?”

  “Good.” He hated small talk. Never more so than when it was awkward. “And you?”

  “Great.” She came and took a seat beside him. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Waiting.”

  Red laughed. “I figured as much.” She glanced around. “This is a waiting room after all.”

  “What about you. Why are you here?” he asked.

  “My brother and his wife are having a baby.” She placed her purse on the floor by her feet. “I was in her room a little while ago, too many people in there, so I ran a quick errand and thought I’d wait it out in here.” He had a bad feeling. “So, who are you here for?”

  “I—”

  “It’s a girl,” Molly announced as she walked in the door. “Six pounds. Eight ounces.” She smiled at him. Then her gaze went to Red, who was getting up from her chair. The two, Molly and Red, hugged. “Your brother thought he’d faint, but he didn’t, Kristine.”

  Holy hell. Red was Nate’s sister. Which meant Molly knew her. They were family.

  He started shaking his foot.

  The women turned and came to him. “Ryker,” said Molly. “This is my brother-in-law’s sister, Kristine Harper.”

  “You know him?” Red asked, frowning.

  Molls nodded and held her hand out for him. He took hold and stood up.

  Kristine’s gaze went to their interlocked fingers. “You…uh….” She clamped her mouth shut, and her face took on the same oh-shit expression Ryker was trying hard not to have dancing across his own features.

  Crimson tented the bar babe’s neck and cheeks. The woman was uncomfortable, and Molly had never been obtuse.

  “What’s wrong, Kris?”

  “Nothing,” she said, and glanced up at Ryker—guilt apparent.

  Molly looked at her. Then up at him. Then back at Red. The tension in the room was thick.

  Molls let go of his hand. “Oh God,” she whispered in a broken voice.

  Damn it. She’d guessed. Was he destined to have all his past extracurricular activities with women come back to bite him in the ass, or what?

  Without another word, Molly walked out of the waiting room.

  Red held up her hands. “I didn’t—”

  “Don’t,” he said, jaw tight, and made tracks after Molly, who was already at the end of the hall and going out a set of double doors.

  Shit. He ran after her, catching up before she went outside.

  “Molls,” he said, grabbing on to her shoulder. “No running. Remember?”

  “You and Kristine,” she uttered. “You know each other. Don’t you?”

  Hell no. They didn’t, but he understood what she was saying.

  Molly avoided his gaze; nonetheless, Ryker saw the tears in her eyes, threatening to overflow. For the first time in his life, he wanted to lie in order to spare her any hurt. Yet, he wouldn’t. He’d be honest. He didn’t want any secrets between them. No matter how hard the conversation. No matter how much easier a lie would be. He took a deep breath. He would tell her the truth.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Did you…you know.”

  “Ask me, Molly. I won’t hide anything from you.”

  When she lifted her head and looked at him, her gray-green eyes sliced him through like a samurai sword. “Where did you two meet?”

  He was surprised that’s what she asked.

  “The Cherry Bomb Club.”

  She appeared to be processing his answer.

  “Did you kiss her?”

  “No,” he said.

  Her long lashes fluttered. “No?”

  “I’ve never kissed any of them, even when they’ve tried to kiss me.”

  She rephrased. “Did you put your mouth on her?”

  He shook his head.

  “You didn’t?”

  “No, Molls.”

  “But you fucked.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “I didn’t fuck her.”

  Her eyebrows pulled close. “You didn’t?” Those wheels inside her head were cranking. “You didn’t fuck her. No kissing. And you didn’t put your mouth on her, anywhere?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “She put her mouth on you,” she said, glancing down at his crotch.

  He never realized how hard one simple little word could be to say. He sighed. “Yes.”

  Molly glanced at the floor. “She hasn’t worked at that club very long, and you’ve been out of town. So you two had to have been together recently, Ryker.”

  Hell.

  “It was only a couple of days after I got back into town. I went to the club, and we hooked up.”

  “Hooked up?” Molly narrowed her gaze on him, her mouth pressed into a thin line before she spoke next. “So was that before you ‘hooked up’ with me?”

  “Yes. But you are not a hook-up, Molly.”

  “Really?”

  “Fuck no you’re not. And you know it.”

  “I want to hear everything that happened with her.”

  Jesus. He wanted to be open and honest with her, but some things were better not known.

  “Molls. I don’t see how knowing—”

  “No.” She chopped her hand through the air. “I want you to tell me what you did with her and how you just ‘hooked up.’”

  “We shouldn’t be having this conversation here.”

  “I want you to tell me, Ryker.”

  “All right.” He manacled her wrist and tugged her over into a single occupancy restroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He let loose of her wrist. When he returned his attention to her, she’d wrapped her arms around her middle as if she were trying to hold herself together. The woman was killing him. “I went to the club,” he said.

  “We’ve established that.”

  He was doing something he never thought he would do—bend. “I ordered a drink from the bar, and she asked me if I wanted to take a cigarette break with her.”

  “You don’t smoke,” she snapped.

  Ryker crossed his arms, keeping his expression cool. Molly might be the only woman in the world he’d bend for, but he wouldn’t shift the balance between them. He wouldn’t be topped. “I didn’t
intend on starting up the habit either.”

  “No. You intended to screw her. Didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were going to just do her right there in that club?”

  He nodded.

  “But you didn’t. Instead. She sucked you off in a back room somewhere?”

  “Yes. But not a back room.”

  “Where then?”

  “In the men’s restroom.”

  Her eyebrows arched high. “Was she good?”

  “What the hell kind of question is that?

  “I want to know, Ryker.”

  He gritted his teeth. Popped his jaw. “She was,” he admitted.

  “Better than me?”

  “God damn it, Molls.”

  She straightened her spine, hands going to her hips. “Tell me.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Not better. Just different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Let’s say she’s obviously given a lot of head.”

  She snorted. He was done talking about Red. Ryker pulled Molly into his body and held her tight, reestablishing who was in control. She tried to squirm free. He didn’t allow her freedom. “She didn’t matter,” said Ryker. “None of them have mattered to me.”

  “Let me go.”

  “No,” he said. “I want you to hear me.”

  “I hear you,” she sniffed. “You let a woman you didn’t know, whom you just met while serving you drinks, give you head in the restroom of a club during her cigarette break. Have I missed anything?”

  “Look at me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  The woman had a fabulous pout.

  “Look at me, Molly Anne.”

  She lifted her gaze, and met him stare-for-stare. “I’ve fucked around. A lot. You know I have. I could give you reasons, excuses, try to justify why, but I won’t. The plain and simple truth is none of them ever mattered to me because they were never you.”

  “Give me your mouth, Molls,” Ryker said, holding Molly tight. “Those lips are mine, and I want what’s mine.”

  She was pissed, jealous, and hurt over the whole Kristine/Club thing, although, even ticked off, she didn’t want to refuse him.

  Tilting her head up, he bent, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with a soft brush of lips before he nipped at her bottom lip, then full-on took her, tongue twining over and around hers. The man, and the way he kissed, made her weak in the knees. Every part of her stiff body dissolved into him.

  When Ryker picked her up, she moaned and wrapped her arms around his strong neck and her legs around his waist—his hands going to her ass. They became mouths moving. Tongues twirling. Breaths mingling into breaths.

  “Molly,” he said against her lips. “I’ve never kissed anyone else.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve never kissed anyone else since the day I first kissed you.”

  The admission had her blinking, although before she could say anything, he melded his mouth to hers, deepening his kiss—devouring as though he’d parish without her taste.

  “I want to be inside of you,” he said, pulling back, and then pressing his nose and lips into the side of her neck.

  Goose bumps humped her flesh.

  “I want you, too.”

  “No condoms.” He latched onto her earlobe with his teeth.

  “I’m on the pill,” she whispered, trembling.

  He looked into her eyes. “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been tested, Molls. You don’t have to worry about me. And I gave you my word. No more women. Only you.”

  “I’ve only been with….” He scowled, stopping her. “Well, you know who, and never without protection, but even so, I’ve been tested, too. You don’t have to worry about me either. And I won’t be with him again, or anyone. You have my word. Only you, Ryker.”

  “I’m going to take you right here. Right now,” he assured.

  He put her down and opened his fly while she unzipped her capris and stepped out of one leg; however, before she could get them all the way off, he’d hoisted her back up and rubbed the wide head of his bare dick across her silk-covered clit, causing her pussy to cream and flutter in anticipation.

  “Jesus. I can’t wait. Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

  “Mm hm.”

  Ryker tugged her panties until he ripped them from her body, pressed her back against the wall, and powered inside of her, feeling her up to capacity, biting down with his teeth into the crook of her neck, and baptizing Molly in fire.

  A breathy, “Oh….” fell from her lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Present.

  It had been one eventful, long, holiday weekend. With the unexpected arrival of Ryker on her doorstep, claiming her as his, the birth of her niece, the whole horrible ordeal with Kristine and The Cherry Bomb Club disclosure, and then Ryker’s promise of fidelity before taking her in the handicap restroom of the hospital in a most spectacular, if not a bit risqué way, Molly’s head was awhirl. Not to mention her body was sore and aching in interesting places. She supposed she needed to get her head back into the Tuesday game, but thought about the way Ryker looked at her as he came inside of her clenching sex instead.

  The dweedle-deet of her cell phone broke her reverie.

  Glancing down at the phone sitting on her desk, she tapped the screen.

  Molls. Be at my office today for lunch. I don’t want you wearing panties.

  —Ryke

  Smiling, her stomach doing flips of joy, she closed out the text, and then opened up her work e-mail.

  7 July 7:40 a.m.

  To: Molly Monroe

  From: Jack Jamison

  Subject: Board Meeting

  Ms. Monroe. The board meeting scheduled for today has been moved back from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. I have been detained this morning and will meet you there. Please bring the projected costs of the expansion project with you, and please clear your schedule for a meeting with me to follow the board meeting.

  Scowling, Molly stared at the computer screen, then picked up her cell phone and typed.

  Ryker. I have a meeting this morning at 11, then another meeting directly after. I won’t be able to make lunch. I’m sorry. Rain check.

  After reading Molly’s text, Ryker grumbled to himself. He had plans for her scrumptious body today. Thumb tapping his screen he typed….

  Rain check. Yes. And you will prove to me just how sorry you are for missing lunch.

  Cock stirring with the thought of her apology, he pressed send.

  ***

  Gah. Ryker hated being cooped up in an office, the only saving grace was he actually had a lot of things to do, which kept him occupied.

  “Hey, man,” his brother greeted, knocking on his open office door.

  “Hey there.”

  “I was in your neck of the woods today and thought I’d stop by so we could grab a bite.”

  He glanced at the time on the bottom right-hand corner of his computer screen, surprised to see it was almost one in the afternoon.

  “Sure. Whaddaya got in mind for grub?” he asked, rolling his chair back from his desk.

  “How about a buffalo ribeye from Elway’s at the downtown Ritz-Carlton?”

  “Sounds good to me, Deck.”

  “After all, we’re both wearing our monkey suits today, so we might as well put them to use and go fancy for lunch.”

  Ryker walked over to his brother and tapped him on the back. “What is the deal with the suit?”

  “Meeting with the mayor and some bigwigs from the city this morning about a new construction project.”

  “Ah.” He smiled. “So you decided to blend in.”

  Declan chortled. “Not sure I blended, but the suit was worth the trouble, because DC Construction got the bid.”

  “Congrats, man!”

  “Thanks, bro.”

  ***

  Listening to the so
unds of silverware tinkling on fine china, and the low murmurs of people chatting at the dining tables around them, Ryker was dying to find out the answer to something he was pretty sure Declan would know.

  “So,” he said, and paused, rolling his shoulders, trying to unkink the tension building up there.

  “What’s wrong?” Deck asked, frowning.

  “I’m just going to come right out with it.”

  “All right.” His twin put his fork down and gave him his full, undivided attention.

  “How did you know you were in love?”

  A smile started at one corner of Declan’s mouth. “Interesting question.”

  “Are you going to answer?”

  “Man,” his brother said, “it’s not an easy, straightforward answer.”

  “Since when do you have trouble being straightforward?”

  “I mean.” Deck leaned back and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “You just sort of know.”

  “Jesus. What kind of answer is that?”

  “How about this then? If all you think about all the time is her—the way she smiles, how she smells, the feel of her, the way she laughs—and you find you want to always talk to her, be around her, just be…. If you can’t imagine one day without her in your life, if you want her so badly you can’t see straight, and the thought of anyone else even looking at her pisses you off to the point of murderous intent, then, Ryke, it’s love.”

  “Well, shit,” he muttered.

  “Are you going to tell me something, bro?”

  Ryker took a sip of his ice water, then put the goblet down. He traced his forefinger along the long stem of the glass, met his twin’s gaze, and confessed, “I love her.”

  “Molly?”

  He nodded. “I think I’ve loved her for a long time. I just—”

  “Didn’t want to admit to it.”

  “Yeah, but there’s much more than admitting.”

  “What do you mean, man?”

  Ryker wasn’t going to go into his longstanding fear of being too rough and scaring Molly, so he settled for another side of the truth. “The woman undoes me, Deck, and I hate feeling weak.”

  “Loving a woman doesn’t make you weak, Ryke.”

  “Sometimes, I feel helpless when it comes to her, and I can’t stand that feeling, but I can’t shake off what I feel for her, and believe me I’ve tried.” He smiled. “I’ve got it bad.”

 

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