by Imogen Wells
“What’s wrong?” Ryder asks, as he turns off the engine, turning to follow my line of sight.
“Nothing. I’m just tired.” Despite our conversation just now, I honestly just think my brain is fried, and I need to sleep. “What are we doing here? Are we even allowed in? Shouldn’t there be a cop here, you know to make sure the scene is secure?” I say, looking at the house and seeing the police tape. Ryder side eyes me, arching a brow.
“You watch too many crime shows.” I tilt my head at him, raising my own brows. “Fine. Yes, and there is, but I have a friend on the force, so we’re good. We’re not staying, you’re coming home with me, but I thought you’d like to collect some of your things.”
I’m not even pissed at him telling me I’m coming with him, or for bribing a cop. If I’m honest, I don’t want to even step foot inside the house right now, but Ryder’s right, I could definitely do with some clothes and other bits and pieces. “Okay, let’s get this over with then.”
He seems surprised by my quick acquiescence. I may not appreciate his bossiness, but I’m not fucking stupid.
Getting out of the car, I realise I don’t have my key, it’s in my handbag at Ryder’s apartment. As if he can read my mind, he pulls a key from his pocket, dangling it in front of me.
“Hey, how did you get that?” I ask, more than suspicious now.
“Jamie gave it to me,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Why do I get the feeling he’s not being totally honest?
“Ryder…” I say, drawing out the ‘r’.
He drops his hand holding the key to his side. “Alright, fine. I took it from the key hook in the kitchen marked spare keys—” He realises the importance of that revelation just as I do. We both rush up the drive, ducking under the police tape and to the front door. Stepping into the house, eerie silence greats us, and my skin tingles as goosebumps cover my flesh. I stop as I see my shoe on the floor, spotting the drops of blood that dot the floor in the hall. Ryder has gone on ahead but stops when he sees I’m frozen in place.
“Cam?”
“I’m fine. Go, I’m right behind you.” Pushing the fear aside, I lock down my emotions and follow Ryder to the kitchen.
When we get there, the smell of blood hits me, and as I take in the room, I see all the little markers from the crime scene investigators next to the blood that is splattered all over the floor.
“Breathe through your mouth, it will stop the smell.”
I do as Ryder said and find it actually works. I begin to cautiously step towards where Ryder is waiting for me. When I reach him, I look to the key hooks, noting that where there should be two spare keys— there are now none.
“There were two spare keys here, if you have one, then that means…” Feeling the bile rise up my throat I dash to the sink, leaning over as I spew what little I have in my stomach into the sink. I turn the tap on rinsing the sink first then placing my mouth under the tap and spitting out a couple of times before taking a drink. Standing back up I swipe my mouth down the sleeve of my arm.
“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ryder says, guiding me out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Once I have everything I need, we leave and it’s not soon enough.
Twenty-One
Camryn
When we get back to Ryder’s, he tells me to order a takeaway, my choice, from the menus on the fridge, while he goes off to make a call. I pick pizza, not sure my stomach can handle much else right now.
After placing the order, I grab a beer from Ryder’s fridge and walk to the windows to look out over the city. I love the view from here. The city lights look amazing and this far up it feels like all my troubles and worries are left down below. If only that were true. No, my troubles have become everyone else’s, and that makes my blood boil so hot it’s like lava flowing through my veins. A bit how that man in there makes me feel.
When I think back to how it was with Sean, even at the beginning when we first met, I never felt like this. I never felt like I’d stop breathing if he wasn’t near, or the heart pounding desire I feel when I’m with Ryder. Not that I’d ever tell him that, the man has an ego the size of Everest. But I see underneath all that seriousness and bravado, I catch glimpses of the softer side of him when he’s not looking. This is a man who when he loves, he loves hard. His loyalty goes above and beyond, and he’d give his last breath for the ones he loves.
I don’t count myself in that circle yet, but I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t like to be one day. I have no idea what we are doing, what this is between us, but Jamie’s words about taking a risk echo in my mind.
I feel him the moment he enters the room, and that just solidifies my current thought process. I told myself earlier that I didn’t want to live my life always looking over my shoulder, but I also don’t want to live with any more regrets and what ifs. I spin around just as he reaches me. He quirks a brow in silent question, but I just laugh. He grabs my hips pushing me back against the glass. The cold even more marked on my heated skin.
“What’s so funny, Bambi?” he asks, humour lacing his tone.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” I reply, just as his fingers slip beneath the hem of my t-shirt, skimming up the sides of my body.
“Now, why is it that I don’t believe you. Maybe I should make you tell me the truth,” he says, as he buries his head in the side of my neck. The feeling sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine, and I can’t help but moan at the feel of the rough stubble on his jaw as it grazes my cheek.
“And just how do you plan to do that,” I ask breathlessly, unable to stop myself from showing him just how much his touch affects me. One particular method springs to mind as I remember last night.
“I think you know exactly how I work, and how very effective my methods are,” he whispers, as he kisses along my jaw before taking my mouth. I wind my arms around his neck, the empty beer bottle dangles from my fingers, coming up on my tiptoes as though I want to literally crawl inside him. Before either of us get lost to the lust, the damn lift pings its arrival. Breaking the kiss, both of us panting and desperate for more of each other, he pulls back.
“Fucking lift,” he mutters, as he walks away.
Yeah, I’m really starting to hate that lift. While Ryder grabs the food, I get myself another beer and one for him too and take them into the lounge. As Ryder comes in with the pizza boxes, I shamelessly ogle him, and although my stomach grumbles about the lack of food it’s consumed recently, the rest of my body hungers for something else entirely. As if he can feel me watching him, he looks over to me as he places the boxes on the table, and I see my own desire mirrored in his eyes. Our eyes stay locked on each other as he comes to stand in front of me. I have to crane my neck, and as I do, he reaches out a hand cupping my chin, swiping a thumb across my bottom lip.
“These lips…” his eyes darken at whatever thought is running through his head, “I’d like nothing more than to see them wrapped around my dick right now.” My eyes automatically flick to the bulge in his jeans, reaching out my hands, I run them up the side of his thighs before moving to his belt. Just as I start to undo it, Ryder moves back out of reach, and I frown at him, confused.
With my chin still cupped in his hand, he leans down, and his breath whispers across the shell of my ear as he speaks, “Food first, then I’m taking you to bed.” He kisses me, nipping my bottom lip before standing back up, grabbing the pizza and dropping down in the seat next to me.
How the hell does he expect me to eat now, after that little show. My skins feels flushed, and I’m pretty sure I need some clean underwear. Urgh! Infuriating man.
I manage to eat a few slices of pizza and drink another beer. With a full stomach and a slight buzz from the beer, I lay down on the sofa, while Ryder clears the pizza boxes and beer bottles away. I close my eyes and just allow my mind to wander. The light changes in the room, becoming duller, and when I open my eyes the whole ceiling is lit up like the night sky. It’s stunning!
&n
bsp; “Holy shit, Ryder, that’s…wow.” I’m blown away. Every major constellation is there, and even a few smaller ones.
“I had it put in a couple of years ago,” he says coming back into the room. Instead of sitting, he lays down on the floor next to where I lay on the sofa. “When I was younger, my mum and I would go out as the sun set and watch for the first star to appear. My mum even paid to have a star named after me for my 10th birthday, the same year I got my first telescope,” he says wistfully, full of emotion, and it’s one I’ve not heard from him before.
“I used to do the same with—” Shit! What am I doing? “I used to do the same, but I haven’t for a long time,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the quiver in my voice. I don’t know if I can handle his questions right now. I will tell him about Faye, but I’m not ready, not yet. Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on my hesitation. Instead he throws a complete curve ball at me.
“So, I know the timing isn’t great right now, not with what just happened to Jamie, but I have to go back to London in the morning.”
I roll onto my side, leaning on my forearm as I look over the edge of the sofa at him. He has his hands behind his head, and his t-shirt has risen up, giving me a delicious glimpse of his abs and the line of hair running from his belly button down to his mouth-watering— I swallow and lick my lips at the sight. Trying to get my head out of the gutter and aware that he just told me he’s going back to London, I run my eyes up his body. Before I reach his face, I spot another tattoo on the inside of his left bicep. It’s extremely subtle, and probably why I’ve not noticed it before. I look to the ceiling until I find what I’m looking for, the constellation of Scorpio, just like Ryder’s tattoo. My heart skips a beat when I think about the small constellation of Leo I have tattooed on the back of my neck. I don’t know if Ryder has ever noticed it, he’s never mentioned it, so I’m guessing not. Realising that I need to answer Ryder, I look back down at him, only to find his eyes on me.
“Sorry, I got lost in the stars. You’re going back to London tomorrow? For how long?” I ask, trying not to let my disappointment and, let’s be honest, fear at him not being here show too much. I know he told me he might have to go, but he was right, the timing is shit.
“It will just be for a day, two at the most. There’s something I need to do,” he says, being very vague, which instantly has me suspicious.
“Work?” I ask, then my mind races to another possibility, one that hadn’t crossed my mind till now. “Girlfriend, wife?” I shoot up as I watch him wince at those words. “You’re married? What the fuck, Ryder!” I shout, jumping up from the sofa and almost stamping on his leg as I stumble away from him.
“Fuck, no! Why would you think that?” he asks, climbing to his feet.
I start pacing, I knew he was a man-whore, that I should have stayed well away from him. How could I be so fucking stupid. I mentally slap myself for my idiocy. Again! “I’m just another on the job lay, right? When this job is over, you’ll go back and play happy fucking families. Fuck!” I start searching the room for my bag. When I don’t see it, I march to Ryder’s room, assuming he put it in there. Huh, thinking he was getting laid again tonight. Well, that ain’t fucking happening. I hear him following behind, telling me to stop and listen, but I don’t want to listen. Don’t want to hear anymore bullshit spew from his mouth.
I shove his bedroom door open, and it slams against the wall from the force. Seeing my bag on the floor beside the chair where my other bag still rests, I go over to pick it up, but as I bend down, I’m lifted off my feet. For a split second I’m transported back to another time when I was carried away, kicking and screaming, several in fact, but I push the memories away. I refuse to freak out, this is Ryder, not Sean. I might not know much about him, but I do know he’d never hurt me, physically at least. Emotionally? Yes. I already know that this man has more power over me than Sean ever did, and that freaks me the fuck out.
I’m tossed on the bed, and before I can even gather my breath, the bastard cages me in, his weight just enough to stop me escaping. I lash out at him, hitting his chest and trying to push him off, but he doesn’t even flinch, just lets me rain all my anger down on him.
There was a time that this position would have had me spiralling into a full-blown panic attack, the fact I’m not speaks volumes.
I pour all my rage, guilt and everything else I feel into attacking him. It’s like I’m goading him, pushing his buttons to see how far I can go before he snaps. He takes it all, until I’m just a hot, sweaty, emotional mess beneath him.
“Are you ready to listen now?” he asks, his voice firm, with an edge that speaks of his own anger. And once again, I become a bobble head, just nodding away. To be honest, even that’s an effort after all the energy I just expended. “I don’t have a girlfriend or a damn wife. I don’t do relationships— and before you go getting all fucking mad at me again, just fucking listen. I don’t do relationships, mainly because of the job I do and because I didn’t want one. But I ain’t no fucking cheater either. So, when I do have a relationship, you can bet your fucking arse there will be no one else. I may have fucked a lot of women, but they all knew the deal.”
My anger, and I hate to admit, a streak of jealousy sparks inside me at those words. “And what is the deal, Ryder? Because I sure as shit don’t remember any fucking deal being made before you fucked me against the wall.” I ask, disdain drips from my words. He rolls his eyes at me, as the muscle in his jaw ticks, then the bastard rolls his hips. I close my eyes, as a moan rumbles up my chest, and I bite my lip to stop it breaking free, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“The deal is,” another roll of his hips, “You. Are. Mine.” Each of his words is punctuated with nips to my jaw and a roll of his hips. My body is on fire, as anger and pleasure swirl together making it impossible for my brain to grasp exactly what he means. I don’t really care to figure it out either, all my body wants is more of this man. I want him naked, to explore every inch of his body, to mark him and claim him as mine, to bring him to the brink, then push him over the edge, and have him shuddering beneath me, calling out my name. I want to own him. I don’t think on it anymore, I let my body have complete control.
When his lips finally meet mine, we become savages, ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes until we are just a tangled web of naked limbs. My skin burns with his every touch. Yanking on his hair, I pull his head to the side at the same time as I push up, rolling us over so I’m on top. His eyes spark with a hungry desire and a hint of surprise.
Having Ryder beneath me like this rouses a dark piece of my soul I never knew existed, spurred on by the feeling, I let the darkness have me and give in to my baser instincts.
With my hands on his chest, I lean down kissing his lips, along his jaw, down his neck, mirroring his actions from earlier. I continue my path, alternating kisses with nips that have Ryder growling, dragging my nails down his flesh as I go. I run my tongue over his nipple and take it into my mouth, scraping my teeth over it as it hardens. He grabs a fistful of my hair, and his hips buck at the bite of painful pleasure. Not allowing him to pull me away, I lick all the way down his happy trail as his hand falls to the side, releasing my hair.
His cock pulses as my breasts brush against it, I take him in my hand, and run my tongue around the rim before licking all the way down and back up. Looking up, as I crouch over him, his eyes darken to the colour of the sky before a storm. Keeping my eyes on him, I flick my tongue over the head of his cock, teasing and tasting before I slide my mouth over him, going all the way down till he touches the back of my throat. I watch from the corner of my eye as his hands curl into the sheet, clenching and twisting it up, and I groan deep in my throat at the sight of this man at my mercy.
I can taste him and myself, as arousal drips down my thighs, sliding my other hand down, I find my clit, dipping in and out of my pussy as I continue to take all of Ryder in my mouth. As my pleasure builds, I scrape my teeth along his length but
before I can reach my climax, Ryder’s hand is in my hair again, and this time there’s no denying him. Yanking my head up, his cock leaves my mouth with a pop, and I’m dragged up his body, straddling him. Pulling my head down, our lips smashing together as I begin to circle my hips, rubbing my wet pussy along the hard length of him. A growl reverberates through his chest and up his throat, as I break the kiss, dropping my head into the crook of his neck as his scent surrounds me.
I sink my teeth into his neck as I pull forward enough to free his cock from between us before pushing back, angling my hips as I slowly slide down onto him. His grip on my hips tightens, and unable to restrain himself any longer, he thrusts up fiercely, and we both cry out as he fills me completely. Steadying myself on his chest, I rock back and forth, grinding myself on him, and as my orgasm builds my fingers curl into his skin, drawing blood.
The sight of his blood as it runs down his body in little rivulets, pushes me over the edge. My head falls back as my orgasm crashes into me with the force of a tsunami, and before I even take a breath, Ryder flips us taking back control. My heart pounds in my ears perfectly with every pump of Ryder’s hips, and as he grips my arse, angling my hips up allowing him to go deeper, my toes curl as another orgasm builds in my belly.
“Fuck, Cam,” he grinds out, as his control slips. My pussy clenches around him as my release slams into me, and no longer able to contain himself, Ryder follows me, my name a pained cry on his lips. “Fuck, baby! What are you doing to me?” he says, as he rolls us to our sides, planting a delicate kiss on the tip of my nose.
Tipping my head back so I can see his face, “I could ask you the same, Ryder Hawkins,” I whisper, before letting my eyes fall shut and falling into a deep, restful sleep.
Ryder reaches for me twice more during the night, and I can’t say I’m mad at the man for disturbing my sleep, not when he gives me orgasms like that.
After the second time, I lay with my head on his chest and trace the half-moon cuts I inflicted on him earlier, knowing that when I wake, he’ll be gone. And I’ll be stuck with ‘too fucking happy’ and ‘not happy enough’, in other words, Russell and Scott. They’re the epitome of the ‘good cop’, ‘bad cop’ duo.