by Mari Carr
Yesterday, he’d decided the madness had to stop, and he had turned down her invitation to karaoke. Then he’d spent the whole night at home, on the couch, wondering what song she was singing and regretting his decision not to go listen.
So it was time to give in and admit this wasn’t going away. No matter how much he tried to pretend it might.
The worst part was, Darcy wasn’t only taking over his days, she’d claimed all his nights and cost him more hours of sleep than he could count. He’d played out so many sexual fantasies about her the last three weeks, his dick was actually sore from all the jerking off. It was as if he was making up for the past four years all in one fell swoop.
No. Not four years.
Five years.
That epiphany had hit him last night as he was taking his second cold shower of the evening.
He and Denise hadn’t had sex in the year prior to her death, which made sense, now that he knew she was having an affair. Back then…well, back then, he hadn’t given it much thought because he’d been too busy with work.
Spending all this time with Darcy seemed to be awakening memories of Denise, things he’d pushed down deep and refused to look at. Things he wasn’t particularly proud of. Things that proved he shouldn’t be taking lunch breaks and doing happy hours with the twenty-four-year-old graphic artist down the hall.
He wasn’t the type of guy who could do romance or true love, given the fact he hadn’t even fallen in love with his wife until he’d seen her holding his son. He’d inherited more of his parents’ attributes than he cared to admit. After all, his mother and father put their jobs ahead of everything, including the rearing of their son. Ryder had been dropped off at daycare, starting when he was just four weeks old, and it hadn’t been unusual for him to be the first kid there in the morning and the last to leave each evening.
His father had never tossed a football with him and had actually been out of town on a business trip the day Ryder graduated from high school. In his parents’ minds, providing for him financially was more than enough to prove they cared about him, and it never occurred to either of them that he might need something like love or affection.
After high school, Ryder had chosen to attend school on the East Coast, desperate to make the break from his parents once and for all. They’d paid his way through school, never once blinking an eye that he chose to spend holidays and summers with friends. He hadn’t been back to the house he’d grown up in once since leaving for college. And his parents had only seen Clint after he was born because they’d both had business trips near Maryland and managed to squeeze in a short visit to see their grandchild. That was the first and last time they’d seen Clint.
The only time Ryder had heard from them in the past decade was when they sent a sympathy card after Denise’s death.
A fucking sympathy card.
He knew it wasn’t uncommon for children to follow in their parents’ footsteps, but Ryder had always sworn he’d do better. Be better.
With Denise, he’d failed. Miserably. Expecting his paycheck to be enough to pass as proof of love.
To make matters worse, Darcy’s childhood had been the polar opposite of his. She was a Collins, a name synonymous for large, loving, in-each-other’s-business-all-the-damn-time family, so God only knew what she’d think of his fucked-up family tree.
The second he thought of her, his dick twitched.
Jesus.
He was more than his penis. He was an adult, and he should be able to control these baser desires.
He closed his eyes, rubbing them wearily. He was about to make a huge mistake—and even though he recognized that, he didn’t bother to stop himself from making it.
Spinning his chair back toward his desk, he picked up his phone, dialing her extension.
“Darcy Young,” she said, obviously before glancing at the caller ID on her work phone. “Oh, Ryder. Hey. What’s up?”
“Can you come to my office for a few minutes?”
“Sure. Do you need me to bring anything?”
He’d never summoned her to his office once in the past three months she’d worked here, so she obviously thought this had something to do with the job.
He wished he could be that fucking professional right now.
“No.” He disconnected the call, then watched the door.
The marketing department was fairly close, so she was there within a minute or two.
“Shut the door,” he said the second she crossed the threshold. “And lock it.”
Darcy froze for a split second, her gaze locking with his. Then, she grinned and did exactly as he asked.
He rose from his chair and crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”
He’d resisted kissing her for two whole weeks. He was calling that a victory.
Of course, he was about to have to restart the clock.
Darcy crossed the office, stopping a few feet in front of him.
He shook his head. “Closer.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the locked door, then closed the distance between them.
Ryder wasted no time gripping her upper arms and pulling her the rest of the way toward him, lowering his head and kissing her hard. Darcy, as always, was an active, enthusiastic participant. She kissed like she lived—with exuberance and joy.
He felt the ends of her lips tip up in a smile as her tongue darted out to play with his. At one point, she even nipped his bottom lip, giggling when he narrowed his eyes at the brief pain.
She tucked her hands beneath his suit jacket, her fingers gripping his dress shirt at his midsection. Meanwhile, he couldn’t manage to touch her enough. He ran his fingers through her hair, then cupped the nape of her neck to deepen the kiss. After that, his hands drifted lower along her back, to her waist, to her hips. She gasped slightly when he dropped them even farther and gripped her ass.
Darcy was the first to pull away slightly, sucking in a deep breath of air. Ryder wasn’t ready to stop, so he placed kisses on her cheek, along her neck.
“Is this going to be our thing?” Darcy asked breathlessly. “Friday kisses? Because I’m totally cool with branching out and including a few more days of the week. Maybe Mondays? Wednesdays? Every day that ends in Y? You missed last Friday, by the way, so you owe me extra kisses.”
Ryder wasn’t ready to talk. Talking required thinking and thinking led to common sense and reality. He wasn’t willing to go there yet. He kissed her again, trying to understand what it was about this woman that had him acting like a horny teenager on his first date. He was a grown-ass, reasonable, responsible man, who’d never had trouble remaining in control.
“Darcy,” he whispered. “I think you’ve put a spell on me.”
“No. Not a spell. But I’m sort of hoping I’ve cursed you.”
He lifted his head, confused. “A curse? That would be worse than a spell.”
She shrugged casually. “Depends on who you ask, I guess.”
He squeezed her ass cheeks one last time, then forced himself to take a step away.
“Are we already to the part where you tell me why we shouldn’t do this?” she asked. “Because I’m aware you’re still the boss.” He could tell she was only half-teasing, which reminded him that it wasn’t just him he was fucking up with this kiss-and-run game.
“I’ve been thinking about you the past couple of weeks.”
“Ditto.”
“I’ve been thinking about our similar problems,” he began.
She laughed. “Okay.”
“I think it’s obvious that I’m attracted to you. That’s not something I’ve experienced with another woman in a long time. But, Darcy, you’ve never—”
“Stop. I know what you’re going to say, Ryder, and I don’t know how to convince you that I haven’t been saving myself. Honestly.”
“Regardless, a woman’s first time should be special, and it should be with someone she cares about.”
“I care about you.”
He
wasn’t sure how to respond to that…because it had become very clear to him since that night in the elevator that he cared about Darcy too. That he had for years. Of course, rather than make this discussion easy, it made it more difficult.
Because they weren’t just talking about sex. If they were, this conversation wouldn’t even be necessary. They’d fall into bed together until this spell—or curse—was broken, then part as friends at the end. No muss, no fuss.
But that wasn’t what she wanted. Darcy wanted to date him, and she definitely fell into that category of women looking for a relationship that would lead to marriage.
That thought alone should have him saying forget it and sending her back to her desk.
Instead, he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek gently. She was so fucking beautiful, she took his breath away.
“I care about you too, Buttercup. But…well…there’s a lot at stake, and I’m not so sure we’d be smart to cross a line we couldn’t cross back over if—”
“So we lower the stakes.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“You keep dismissing this out of hand. What about a trial run?” she asked. “We go out a few times and give each other a taste of what it would be like if we were together.”
“Isn’t that basically what all dating is? A trial run?” he asked.
“All I’m saying is we give this a try. This doesn’t have to be life altering or scary. We just…go out, have fun, see if we fit. If we don’t, we shift right back to being friends again.”
No commitment, just a trial. It would give him a chance to get Darcy out of his system. He knew that wasn’t her intention, but to Ryder, it felt like the answer to a prayer because it would accomplish two things.
One, it would return him to solid ground, give him a chance to screw his head back on, because he knew—deep down—he was meant to live an unencumbered life. The problem was it had been too long since he’d been with a woman and it was messing with his head, making him think he wanted something he didn’t.
And two, it would show Darcy he wasn’t the man she thought he was. Romance wasn’t his forte, and that would become obvious pretty quickly. They could chalk it up as a failed experiment and move on without regrets or the shadow of “what if” constantly lurking over their heads.
“Okay. I like that idea.”
She grinned. “Ah, but that’s only because you haven’t heard what my plan for the first date is.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Does it require that I rent a limo?”
“Shit, I forgot about that. Not this first one, but I’m not ruling that out for another date.”
“What’s the plan, Darcy?”
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
Ryder shook his head.
“Good. Because now you are. Friendsgiving at my place.”
Ryder grimaced. “I’d rather rent the damn limo.”
“Nope. My family is a big part of who I am, and you’ve never really given them a chance. Besides, I think we need to work on that not-a-people-person problem of yours. You spend too much time on your own, and you need to do something fun with other people.”
Ryder wanted to argue that what she considered an attempt to make him like people was the very definition of a trial by fire, but instead, he found himself nodding. It was as if he was completely incapable of denying her anything. “Fine. I’ll come to Friendsgiving, but I plan the next date. And there won’t be a limo.”
“Deal.”
She’d suggested dates that revealed what their lives were like. She already knew what his life was life, but she’d only been on the outer fringes, present when he was absent. He wanted her to see that he wasn’t lying about the two most important things in his life—his job and his boys.
Then he realized there was another condition they needed to agree on.
“I don’t think we should tell anyone we’re dating. Since it’s just a trial.”
She tilted her head. “Okay. Can I ask why not?”
“Clint.”
“Clint?” she asked.
“Darcy, the kid is crazy about you. I don’t ever want to jeopardize your relationship with my son. He lost his mom when he was just seven years old. Since then, you and Yvonne have been there for him, giving him something Leo and I can’t. Those tummy rubs and cuddles and the fussing over him. He needs that. He sees us as friends right now, and I think it’s best if we keep it that way.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I get that. We should keep it just between us. But you should also know that whether this succeeds or fails, I’m never going to stop being there for Clint.”
Ryder was touched by her love for his son. “Good.”
Darcy held out her hand, her smile one of pure mischief. “So…should we shake on it? Or kiss? It is Friday after all.”
He took her hand, not to shake but to pull her closer. Actually, there was still one more thing they needed to discuss, something that might very well be the deal breaker for her. “Maybe this would be a good time for me to give you a taste of what you’re signing on for. Then, you can decide if you still want to go out with me.”
“I do wan—”
“No,” he interrupted. “Don’t answer me until after.”
“After?” she whispered.
“Lift your skirt and bend over my desk. Facedown.”
Ryder stifled a groan when Darcy moved into the position he requested, without saying another word. She didn’t hesitate, not even for a second.
Fuck. If she was genuinely submissive, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find his way back.
He adjusted his pants, which were too tight, thanks to the erection that had emerged the second she’d walked into his office and locked the door.
She wore a bright red thong that was more suggestion than underwear, and Ryder cursed himself for starting this, knowing he couldn’t finish. Not here.
He stepped behind her, running his hands over the soft, bare skin of her ass. Darcy shivered under his touch, the reaction reminding him that in this, she was an innocent.
“I need you to define unintentional virgin. How far have you gone?” he asked.
She lifted her head and twisted to look at him. “Making out. Heavy petting. I just never found the guy I wanted to,” she paused, then grinned as she added, “seal the deal with.”
“And on Halloween, in the elevator,” he started. “You would have sealed the deal?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Ryder nodded. He’d known that. She was twenty-four, and she’d obviously had opportunities to sleep with other men. She’d refused them…but not him.
It was a gift she was offering, and a stronger, better man might refuse. He couldn’t—wouldn’t. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman, and he was just arrogant enough to know he could make her first time good for her.
Darcy deserved a man with experience, someone who would take his time and give her everything she wanted and more. The list she rattled off in the elevator floated through his mind.
Tied up. Held down. Spanked. Taken.
For her, right now, those were just words, ideas, and it was a far cry between fantasizing about something and doing it.
Regardless, Ryder wanted to be the man to give her all of that. The thought of her trying those things with anyone else had him seeing red.
He bent over her body, reaching up to where her hands were pressed flat against the top of his desk. He placed his hands on hers. “I’m going to hold you down, tie you up. Keep you in my bed, helpless to do anything but accept my will. Are you sure you can you handle that?”
Her breath was ragged as she whispered just one word. “Yes.”
He kissed her cheek before releasing her hands and standing once more. He raised one hand and brought it down on her ass. Hard. The spot he spanked flushed pink.
“Ah!” she cried out quietly, just one airy, surprised, aroused breath. He couldn’t wait to pull her
over his lap and spank her for real, feel her wiggling beneath him. His fingers itched to do it properly, but he couldn’t. Not now, not here, when there were too many people around to hear.
Soon.
“I’m going to pull you over my lap and spank you until you come, Darcy. I’m going to control your orgasms, your body, your pleasure, your pain. I’m not an easy lover. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“God… So much.”
He tapped the inside of one of her ankles, silently instructing her to part her legs. As soon as she did, he pulled her thong aside and ran his finger along her slit, thrilled to discover her so wet, so hot, so ready.
“Ryder, please,” she whispered.
“Do you own any toys?”
Her right cheek was pressed against his desk, which allowed him to see the blush that bloomed at his question. “I…um…”
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
She didn’t look at him as she answered. “A vibrator. And a dildo.”
“I’ll use them on you, buy you more.”
“Ryder… Please. I want it all. Want you. Now.”
“No. Your first time isn’t going to be over my desk any more than it was going to be on the floor of an elevator. You deserve better than that. When I take you, Darcy, it’s going to be in a bed, and it’s going to be all night.”
He was an idiot to start this here, but he wasn’t going to hide who he was, what he needed from her. He’d done that once before, shut down the part of him that needed control in the bedroom because Denise hadn’t liked it.
Denise had pretended to enjoy his dominance, his rough touch, when they were dating, but a year or so after Clint was born, they’d been in the middle of a huge fight when she’d told him the things he did in the bedroom scared her. He’d been so blindsided, so upset to think he’d hurt or frightened her that he’d closed that part of himself down completely, and the two of them had never done anything more adventurous than missionary after that until their sex life died a slow, painful death.
“Darcy, if any of what I just said scares you, you have to—”
“Scares me?” She pressed upwards, and he gave way, needing to see her expression when she answered. Her skirt fell back into place as she turned to face him.