by Mari Carr
And it had been her list!
It was just so much hotter coming from him…show-and-tell style.
She crossed the room, not stopping until she was standing next to him, behind his desk. “Busy morning?” she asked.
Ryder nodded slowly, but she could tell he was lying.
She hadn’t imagined a thing. She’d spent three weeks trying to crash through the barrier Ryder insisted on putting up between them. It had fallen down Saturday, but damn if he hadn’t rebuilt it since then.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Ryder had been sitting in his desk chair, but at her question, he rose and took a step away. And then another. Until she was behind his desk and he was in front of it.
“I don’t think we should continue dating.”
Wow. Hello, Mr. Abrupt.
“Why not?” Darcy was fighting to appear strong, unaffected, but even she could hear the disappointment in her voice.
The look on Ryder’s face told her he’d heard it too.
“I’m ten years older than you, Darcy.”
“Oh my God. No. Just no!” she said, throwing up her hands. “I thought we’d made it over the lame-excuses hurdles. But hey, you know what? I’ll humor you. I don’t see how age matters.”
“It does matter. Because you haven’t experienced as much as I have. You’re in a completely different place, different stage, of your life. You told me what you want from a relationship in that elevator, and I can promise you, I’m not that guy.”
Darcy shook her head. “I didn’t say anything about relationships that night. I described an ideal date, Ryder. And I’m old enough to know life and love aren’t always sunshine and roses and The Princess Bride.”
Ryder leaned forward, his palms flat against his desk. “I’m not saying you always look at the world through rose-colored glasses, but you mentioned your parents, and Yvonne and Leo, and I know exactly what it is you’re looking for in a relationship. And trust me, there are men out there who can give you that. I’m not one of them.”
Darcy couldn’t make Ryder’s words match the man he’d revealed to her Saturday night in her bedroom. As far as she could see, he was exactly what she’d described, what she dreamed of. “I don’t understand why you think that.”
“I’m not a romantic guy, Darcy. Nowhere near your Westley. Hell, I might be closer to that other guy, the prince.”
“You think you’re Humperdinck?” she asked, trying not to laugh. This conversation was insane.
“Yeah. But without that stupid-ass name.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
“No. I’m not. I’ve done the marriage thing before. And I sucked at it. The same way my parents sucked at it. I’m the guy who will always forget your birthday or our anniversary. I say I’ll be home for dinner at six, then roll in at nine. I can sleep through a baby crying in the middle of the night, and I’ll never notice when you get a haircut. I know that because…I lived it. With Denise.”
Darcy listened to his arguments, really listened, and realized there was something Ryder didn’t understand. Because he had it all wrong. “Ryder…did you love Denise?”
“Fuck, Darcy,” he muttered.
“It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”
Ryder ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, as if by doing so, he could block out her and her question. Then, slowly, he opened them and locked gazes with her. “What is this power you have?” he asked, though she was pretty sure he was directing those words at himself. “What did you call it? A curse?”
She nodded, though she’d never explained her reason for calling it that to him. Because the truth was, it wasn’t a curse like Ryder was probably thinking. Her cousin, Colm, declared the entire Collins family suffered from a curse where they all fell in love, fast and hard and forever. And none of them were exempt from it.
When they met their true loves, that was it. Game over.
She’d been struck by the curse when she was just twenty.
“You said it was a spell,” she said, trying to distract him from the curse idea. There was no way in hell Ryder was ready to hear those three little words from her. They were written on her heart, but they would have to remain her secret for now.
“I don’t seem to be capable of shielding a goddamn thing from you. You ask a question and suddenly I’m baring my soul.”
She smiled, though her pleased response clearly tweaked his temper, and his eyes narrowed.
“And yet you still haven’t answered my question. Did you love Denise?”
“Yeah. I did. But I couldn’t make her happy. And I can’t make you happy, either.”
“But you do,” she insisted.
He refused to acknowledge that. “Stick around a little while and I’ll show you how wrong you are.”
She frowned. “I’m not wrong.”
“I think part of the reason I’m no longer in that dark place I told you about is because I stopped blaming Denise for all our misery. I told myself I was angry and hurt because she betrayed me, broke my heart. I consoled myself by calling her a faithless bitch. She left me for that other guy. But we were both to blame for our failed marriage. I was cold and distant, and I thought I could fix everything simply by making more money. Fruit didn’t fall far from the tree,” he said, grimacing.
“Don’t you think if you married again, married someone you—” She stopped herself just short of saying loved, fairly certain that word would freak him out. “Cared for, that all those descriptions of your first marriage would be different because now you know better?”
He shook his head.
“No?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I have no intention of putting that theory to the test. I can’t…I never want to hurt you, Darcy.”
She was touched by his admission, even though the idea of him trying to walk away killed her. Everything that happened between them Saturday night belied his words, even though he refused to see that.
“Can I ask you another question?”
He blew out a hard breath, and she could tell he wanted to reject her request. He’d just admitted he was incapable of hiding things from her. But that wasn’t completely true. Because there was something she still didn’t understand.
“What is it?”
“Why haven’t you been with a woman since Denise died? I can’t believe there haven’t been opportunities. And even if you aren’t looking for a relationship, I’m sure there have been other women you’ve been interested in sexually.”
He studied her face for a long, silent minute, and she wondered if this time she’d pushed too far.
Especially when Ryder walked away from her to the small seating area set up in the corner. Dropping down onto the leather couch, he patted the cushion next to him. Even as she crossed the room toward him, she could almost see his internal debate, could tell he was trying to decide if he was really going to answer. She sat next to him.
“After Denise died,” he swallowed heavily, “I found it…difficult to…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I was impotent. I couldn’t get an erection.”
Darcy didn’t respond immediately, shocked and confused. “But…”
“But that problem ended that night in the elevator.”
“So…”
“So you can imagine my surprise. You seem to have a rather powerful effect on me.”
“Just me?” she asked, still astonished by his confession.
He nodded. “Just you.”
“I’m glad you told me. But doesn’t that sort of prove we shouldn’t stop what’s happening between us.”
“Darcy, please try to understand. It’s not a road I’m willing to travel again. I’m not…good at it.”
“I disagree.”
Ryder shook his head slowly, but it felt like she was starting to wear him down.
At least until he grasped at his next straw. “It doesn’t matter. Because truthfully, me calling a halt has very little to do with my fe
elings for Denise.”
Darcy frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Saturday night…what we did…it wasn’t…me.” Ryder reached out and grasped her wrist. She thought he’d been aiming for her hand, so she tried to move to take it.
Ryder didn’t release her wrist. Instead, he tightened his hold. Given the way her body was reacting to his firm grip on her wrist, it was safe to say this was another area where they were well-suited. Her nipples budded, something that didn’t escape Ryder’s notice as his gaze drifted lower.
What he couldn’t see was the way her pussy was clenching, her panties wet.
This argument was worse than the previous one, which made her think perhaps there was something else driving him, something he wasn’t saying.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered.
His brows furrowed, though she couldn’t tell if he was angry or frustrated or fighting the same heart-thumping, blood-pumping arousal she was.
“I’m not an easy lover.”
“I didn’t ask for easy,” she said. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I asked for exactly the opposite.”
He growled, the deep, guttural sound rumbling in his throat. He’d been the epitome of the gentle lover on Saturday, and while she’d loved every single moment of it, she would never be satisfied with just that.
“I’ll make demands,” he said harshly. “And I’ll exp—”
“Demand something,” she interjected. “Right now. What do you want?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “You, on your knees.”
Darcy shifted, leaving the couch, dropping down in front of him, her eyes locked with his.
“Fuck. This isn’t…I’m trying… Get up, Darcy,” he muttered, his jaw clenched tightly. He ran a hand through his chestnut-colored hair in frustration, clearly wrestling some serious demons.
“No.”
His tone was pure exasperation when he said, “You gotta let me win one of these damn arguments.”
She didn’t mean to—and it certainly didn’t help his disposition—but she laughed as he reached for her upper arms, intent on lifting her up. She held her ground, refusing to rise. “No. I don’t.”
“Dammit, I mean it.”
She shook him off. “What else?” she asked. “What else do you want, Ryder? Tell me.”
Ryder stared at her as she remained on the floor at his feet, his expression hard, but she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. It was directed at himself. He’d brought her in here with the intention of breaking things off. But there was no way in hell she was going down without a fight.
Her heart was racing, not out of fear, but excitement. This…this was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for from the beginning. If only she could make him loosen the noose he’d draped around his own neck and set himself free. She didn’t doubt for a moment she’d go wild in his embrace.
“Cursed,” he muttered.
This time, she knew better than to laugh or smile or even react. Though he had no clue what that word did to her. How it made her feel.
He unfastened his belt, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t say a word as he unzipped his pants, lifted his ass, and slid them and his boxers to his ankles.
Darcy’s gaze slid down as she licked her lips, but she didn’t move. He hadn’t told her to. This was a test, and there was no way in hell Darcy was going to fail.
“Fuck,” he muttered at last. Then he reached out and gripped her chin, drawing her eyes up to his. “I don’t remember blowjobs on your list of prior experience.”
She wasn’t about to back down. She wanted this. Him. God, she wanted everything. “Then you’d better make those demands very specific.”
“Open your mouth.”
This time, Darcy gave him just the barest hint of a smile, and his eyes narrowed briefly in response. He was struggling with what was happening, so she schooled her features. After all, she wasn’t the type to kick a dog when he was down.
Not that Ryder was down.
As she leaned forward, all she could see was how very, very up he was.
She opened her mouth when she was a mere inch from his dick.
“Lick my cock,” he said, his voice deep, either with arousal or anger. She didn’t know which and she definitely didn’t care. “From base to tip. Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Darcy rested her hands on his upper thighs, outstretched just for her. She did as he commanded, licking her first dick.
She’d always thought blowjobs were for the guy, something a girl did for a man she cared about. Which was why Darcy had never done this before.
What she hadn’t expected was to be so completely turned on herself. She stroked him with the flat of her tongue, up and down, as he’d said, several times before she got bolder. Ryder groaned when she twirled the tip of her tongue around the head of his dick, stroking it across the small slit, tasting his precum.
Ryder’s hands, which had rested on the couch cushion, flew up at her action, gripping her face between his large palms. “Do that again,” he said gruffly.
She repeated the movement, twirling around three times before adding the stroke that seemed to have the same effect as him curling his fingers inside her pussy and finding her G-spot.
Ryder’s fingers found their way into her hair and he used his grip there to guide her mouth lower. “Take me in your mouth.”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
Hell, he hadn’t had to ask the first time. It had taken a great deal of self-control to hold back, to wait for his commands.
Ryder was well-endowed, filling her mouth in a way that was almost uncomfortable.
“Relax,” he said, his voice softer as he stroked the side of her face. “You can do this. Take more.”
She shifted, but before she could follow his directive, he gripped the back of her neck and pressed her downward, the head of his cock brushing the back of her throat.
“Jesus,” he murmured to himself. “So long. It’s…just…been…so…”
His heartbreaking words, the almost reverent tone, triggered something inside her. Her love for him was never in question, but she was shocked to discover how much more of her heart was still left for him to claim. Every moment she spent with him, she found herself losing more and more of it to him.
“Grip the base of my dick,” he said. “Wrap your hand around it tightly.”
Once again, she did as he said. With the addition of his hand and his cock buried deep in her mouth, she began to move in earnest.
Well, Ryder began to move her in earnest, was actually probably a more accurate statement. He resumed his grip in her hair and he used it to move her up and down along his hard flesh, taking her mouth.
Darcy tried to increase the speed, tried to take him deeper, but he was driving the car, holding the reins, and even though he was clearly enthralled by the blowjob and quickly approaching his climax, Ryder wasn’t letting go, wasn’t losing control.
In a last-ditch attempt, she reached lower, cupping his balls with her free hand.
Ryder hissed, his fists closing tighter around her hair, pulling it until her scalp stung. The slight twinge of pain sent electrical sparks through her body, her pussy clenching, empty, needy.
If she’d been able to speak, she would have snapped at him, would have demanded that he fuck her mouth the way she knew he wanted to. He was still holding back—and she hated it.
She closed her hand around his balls, trying to force his hand, searching for some way to make him as mindless as he always managed to make her.
Her attempts failed when he pushed her face away, his dick escaping her mouth with a pop. His eyes were blazing.
“Ryder—” she started.
“Not a word.”
He shifted then, pressing on her shoulders until she lay on her back on the floor. He lifted her skirt and shoved the lace of her panties aside. With one stroke of his fingers along her slit, he got the answer to his unspoken question. She was wet. Ready.
<
br /> Placing the head of his cock at her entrance, he paused. “Pill this morning?”
She’d only managed to nod her head once before he slammed inside, one long, hard, brutal stroke.
Darcy winced, even as she felt the first twinges of her orgasm start to fire.
He took her roughly, quickly. The office floor, with its thin carpet, was hard against her back, but she didn’t care.
“Trying to take control?” he asked gruffly as he continued to pound inside her.
She shook her head, even though it was a lie. That was exactly what she’d tried to do. However, speech was beyond her as her inner muscles began to clench, white spots blinding her when her orgasm struck.
Ryder gritted his teeth. “Fuck. Dammit, Darcy.” Her climax triggered his, and he came inside her, both of them gasping and groaning quietly, still aware of their surroundings, of their colleagues just outside the locked door.
Finesse and longevity were things they were going to have to work up to. Between her inexperience and his long dry spell, it was safe to say it was going to take some time before they could come together without this instant spontaneous combustion.
Ryder held himself above her, supporting his weight on his elbows for several long minutes before he was able to rise. She watched as he stood, wishing she could find the strength to do the same. He pulled his pants up and refastened them, his gaze locked on her as she lay at his feet like a sack of potatoes.
She wasn’t sure what she’d accomplished, but his eyes were shuttered again, confused, still angry.
Darcy couldn’t decide if she’d taken one step forward or three very large ones back.
Ryder wasn’t finished fighting.
Which meant she wasn’t, either.
She started to push herself up, but he shook his head.
“Stay there. Don’t move.” He walked to the small bathroom in his office and she heard water running.
As far as his demands went, remaining motionless was the easiest one to follow. Her bones felt like they’d turned to Jell-O, her pussy twinging. Her second time, though quicker and harder, had been even better than her first. And she knew they’d only scratched the surface of the things Ryder could teach her.