“Ry,” she moaned as he tongued her slit.
All he could think of was penetrating her, bare. It was all he ever thought of. There were so many barriers between them already, he needed to conquer at least one. “Are you on the pill?” he repeated, stroking his shaft.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m coming inside you,” he grunted, standing upright.
“You think that’s a good idea?” Again, not a protest. So, he pushed inside of her warmth, and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice garbled as he tried to maintain control. Sex with Jamie was addicting with condoms, but without, he was a goner. The way her warm, wet, walls hugged his dick was enough to drive him mad. She called him sex god, but Kitty Cat was nothing less than a goddess. She was made for him. When Ry was inside her, it felt like home.
“Best. Idea. Ever.” She gritted her agreement as he thrust in and out of her. Slow at first, trying to adjust to the sensation. He forced himself to breathe in through his nose and out of his mouth. She felt too good. “Fuck me, hard, please,” she begged, unabashedly.
He lifted her higher, angling her body so half of her weight was on the hood while he supported the other half. Once she was situated, Ryder pounded into her, setting a punishing pace. He fucked her, and it wasn’t nice or sweet or kind. It was brutal, and what they both needed after a day pretending with their families.
Her muscles clenched around him, the telltale sign of her impending orgasm. Her thighs clamped around his waist and she clung to his body, desperate for his arms to hold her together while his cock ripped her apart.
“Shit, Kitty Cat.” Ryder’s dick twitched and their bodies slapped together under the night sky. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last inside of her. His grip on her ass tightened and he pushed into her wildly. Her moans increased and her body shook as she fell over the edge.
“Thank God,” he growled, spilling his seed inside her.
They huffed and puffed, desperate for air. Their bodies coated in sweat.
“You’re still a fucking asshole,” she panted.
He smiled, dropping his head in the crook of her neck. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Be nice to your mom,” she said quietly.
“It’s complicated.” It might as well have been Astrophysics.
“Tell me.” She laid her head on his shoulder, her legs still wrapped around his waist even as his erection softened inside her. Ryder feared she would regret it, but she seemed content with the new level of intimacy. There were no more barriers between them, no physical ones anyway.
“It was my dad,” he whispered. If she could let her guard down enough to ask, he could let his down enough to tell her the truth.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He stared into the night. “When I was seven, I watched him break her arm. The night before my ninth birthday, he got drunk and smashed all my gifts.” Ryder’s voice wavered. He slipped his penis out of her, and back inside his jeans, zipping up. Talking about this shit was hard enough without the added distraction of being buried inside of Kitty Cat.
“I’m sorry.” Jamie tucked a strand of blond curls behind his ear. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“I’m fine,” Ry said tipping the corner of his mouth up. “I survived, but him calling her, them talking…” He shook his head, looking for the words.
“I get it. I didn’t mean to pry.” Intentions were funny, even the best of them could lead a person down a dark path. “I’m a mess,” Jamie giggled, thankfully changing the subject. The tips of their noses touched. It was the closest thing to a kiss she could offer, and Ryder greedily accepted it.
He looked down, lifting her dress, a ball of milky liquid rolled down her leg. “We should get you cleaned up,” he smirked, oddly proud of the fact that his semen dripped down her thighs.
“You’re not sorry,” she grinned, “fucking, possessive asshole.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
They walked hand in hand back through the parking lot. Tee, the bouncer stared at them, cocking a brow. “You guys look…relaxed.”
Ryder turned to Jamie. Her neck was red from where he bit her, her dress wrinkled, and her hair tangled.
“So, fucking relaxed.”
New message.
Those two little words taunted Ryder daily over the last couple of weeks. He stared at the screen as they flashed, then did what he did every other time his mother called; he ignored it. Slamming the phone shut, Ry tossed it back on the nightstand.
He wasn’t ready to hear the truth.
“I think you’re being a little hard on her.” Kitty Cat eyed him from the foot of the bed. She wore nothing but her bra and panties and looked good enough to eat, again.
“Me?” he asked incredulously. He watched as she scanned the floor for her slacks. Much to Ryder’s disappointment, Jamie reinforced the no sleeping over rule shortly after Easter. ”My dad can break her bones, but I’m the one over reacting?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, she misses you,” Jamie said, bending down to pluck her shirt off the floor. Ryder instantly regretted not ripping the damn thing to shreds when he had the chance.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he deadpanned.
“She’s sad.”
“How would you know?”
Jamie lifted her shoulder unapologetically. “I was on location and the diner was nearby.”
“You went to see her?” Ryder asked. He shifted onto his side, propping an arm up to rest his head on his hand. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Jamie going to see his mom behind his back. He loved that they had a connection, but he was pissed at his mother. Jamie was supposed to be Team Ryder, not Team Annette.
“Don’t be mad. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. She’s human, cut her some slack.”
In the grand scheme of things his mom talking to his dad wasn’t the worst thing in the world. His father was in California and his mother was more than capable of making her own decisions, but she was making the wrong ones and Ryder couldn’t condone that, not after everything he’d seen.
“Why don’t you cut me some slack?” he asked changing the subject. This line of questioning could only lead to an argument, and he wasn’t in the mood to fight.
Ryder crawled to the end of the bed, his shaggy hair fell over his eyes as he shot Jamie his patented I’ll make it worth your while, look. He was sick of sleeping alone, and he wasn’t above begging. “Stay the night, please.”
She shook her head slowly, her gaze traveling from his mouth, down his chest, and didn’t stop until she reached his penis. His girl loved his dick, so he did what any desperate man with a nine-inch cock would do—he swiveled his hips and let the monster swing from side to side.
“Stay,” he said, giving his hips another wiggle.
“I can’t,” she giggled, her eyes still on the prize.
Ryder slipped his hand under the elastic band of her panties and pulled her onto her knees. They were chest to chest, him naked, her with her blouse half buttoned. “Why can’t you?”
“Because I have a job,” she said, lifting a finger, “and I don’t have anything here,” another finger, “and your mattress sucks.”
Three excuses.
Three bad excuses.
Ryder was fully prepared to give her shit for them, but the tips of her fingers grazed his V-shaped hip bone. Placing a kiss on the tip of Jamie’s nose, Ryder murmured, “I’ll wake you up early so you can go home and change, and my mattress isn’t that bad.”
It was fucking awful, but her resolve was crumbling. She was starting to open up to him. Just last week she let it slip that her birthday was next month, bringing the grand total of things he knew about her to three: her birthday, where she worked, and the location of her g-spot.
“I don’t have pajamas or my toothbrush,” she reasoned. Her hair was a mess, blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders as the bullshit tumbled f
rom her lips. Jamie was running out of excuses, and Ryder was running out of patience.
He dug his fingers into her waist, pulling her as close as he could. The sex they had earlier clung to her skin. “Sleep naked,” he dropped a kiss on the corner of her mouth, ”or wear some of my shit,” another kiss on the other corner. “We can go to the drugstore and get you a toothbrush and whatever else you need. You can keep it here so you don’t have to carry it back and forth.”
“Keep stuff here?” Kitty Cat swallowed, resting her nose on his.
Ryder felt her trembling. He saw the alarm bells ringing behind her eyes as she retreated emotionally. It was the same reaction he got every time the conversation steered towards the forbidden topic of their relationship status. If he were a less confident man he’d be worried, but he was the sex god and Jamie had a fucked-up world view.
“Chill out, James. I’m not asking you to move in. It’s just a toothbrush and whatever that fruity shit is you put in your hair.”
“Fruity shit?” she asked, her lips tipping into a half smirk.
“Fruity shit,” he confirmed.
Buttons flew in every direction as Ryder ripped open Jamie’s blouse. He pulled down the cups of her bra, circling her nipple with his tongue. His teeth grazed the hardened nub sending a fresh wave of shivers down her body.
“I thought we were going to the drugstore,” she moaned, arching into his mouth.
Ryder was proud of himself. He was getting better at defusing the commitment bombs and he deserved a reward. “We will. After I fuck you.”
One hour and two orgasms later, Ryder and Jamie were still naked, their limbs still intertwined, and they were no closer to the drugstore than they were before.
“You know what the best part about having you in my bed is?” Ryder asked, pulling Jamie on top of him.
She pressed her palms into the headboard, and her long hair fell forward creating a curtain around them. “Having your own personal cum receptacle?” Kitty Cat only looked like the all-American girl next door, but she possessed the spirit of a drunken sailor, and a mouth on her as crass as any of his friends. She never stopped surprising him.
“No, but I’m not complaining,” he said, gripping her thighs as she grinded on his dick, their combined juices, smearing all over his shaft. At this rate, they’d never fucking leave. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about the possibility of fucking her whenever he wanted, but it wasn’t why he wanted her there. “The best part is this,” Ryder motioned between them, “you and me without all the bullshit. It’s the only time I get the real you.”
“As opposed to?” she asked, hovering inches above his face.
“The person you want everyone to see; the party girl, the badass, the savage.”
“I hate to break it to you, Sex God, but that is the real me.”
“If you say so, Kitty Cat,” he replied, flipping their bodies so he was on top. They laid there, mouths and fingers lazily exploring each other. Neither of them in a rush to leave the comfort his shitty mattress provided. Jamie was everything Ryder swore he’d never go for again. She was complicated and broken, a combination that left him with scars, but for her he’d gladly do battle.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he murmured against her neck.
“What’s this mean?” Jamie ran her fingers down his side, across the circles and lines and dots etched in his skin.
“That’s a geometric guitar,” he grinned. She was a curious little kitten. Reluctantly, Ryder pulled himself up, sitting back on his haunches, so she could get a better look at the ink on his ribcage. “See how the circles overlap?” Jamie nodded her understanding and Ryder continued. “These lines are the strings. My guitar is an extension of me, my rib. It got me through some dark shit. It’s geometric because it looks cool as fuck.”
“It sexy as fuck,” she said biting down on her bottom lip.
Ryder chuckled, “I’ll tell Nic you like it.”
“Who’s Nic?”
“My artist. He did most of my shit, all of our shit, actually. He has an art exhibit coming up next weekend, I think. Wanna go?”
Panic flashed in Jamie’s greens. “Like a date?”
“We can call it whatever you want, Kitty Cat.”
She gave him a noncommittal shrug before running her fingers up to his collarbone, over the black Catch-22 there. “What about this one? I never would have pegged you as a Heller fan.”
“I’m not,” Ryder said, scratching his stomach. In truth, he didn’t know it was a book until after he got the ink and CT asked him the same question. “It’s something my mom always said when I asked about why she put up with my dad. Life is a Catch-22. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. I didn’t fully grasp what she meant until we moved and I had to watch her struggle. She stayed because she couldn’t afford to leave and she thought the abuse was better than us being homeless.”
“What made her change her mind?” Jamie asked, looking down at the bed. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he could hear the apprehension in her tone. They were getting deep and that made her uncomfortable. The last month taught Ryder that Jamie was okay with discomfort as long as she wasn’t the one sharing.
“He hit me,” Ryder admitted.
They sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his confession cover them like skin over bone. “I was ten. He bashed my head off the dining room table. The next day we were on a bus to Seattle.” Up until that point, Ryder’s dad had directed all his anger towards Annette. The look on his mother’s face when she saw her son cowering with fear from a man who was supposed to protect him, reminded him of the sadness Jamie hid beneath her green eyes.
Kitty Cat kissed the script before her hands trailed over his chest, “and the fish?”
The fish wasn’t deep or meaningful, or even good for that matter. “I dated a girl who was apprenticing at a tattoo parlor. I was drunk, she had her gun, and I told her to give me a tattoo. She picked a fish because I’m a fucking Pisces.”
Jamie snorted in a vain attempt to control her laughter, but the dam burst and she fell back, erupting into a fit of giggles.
Ryder shook his head and covered her body with his once again, pressing his weight into her. “Okay, that’s enough about me, what about you? You want any tattoos?”
“I’d love to get another one, but with my job –”
“Wait, you have a tattoo?” he asked in shock. Ryder had seen every inch of her body and never noticed a tattoo.
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her finger across his bottom lip. “It’s my little secret.”
He caught her hand, bringing the finger up to eye level. “White ink, no wonder I missed it. A semi-colon?” he asked, and she nodded. “Why? I mean, did you…” he let the sentence trail off, not wanting to say the words out loud.
“We should probably go get that toothbrush.”
“Kitty Cat,” he begged.
“And the fruity shit,” she said, pushing him away from her. And just like that, show and tell was over.
“Shit,” Jamie grunted, banging her knee off the dresser. She was trying to wiggle her foot into the strappy, Givenchy pump, but the damn things were harder to get on then a straitjacket. Pulling it off, she chucked it across the room in a fit of rage. Jamie was running late, and she hated being late.
Her phone rang and she yanked it off the bedside table, not bothering to check the caller ID. “I’m sorry,” Jamie whined, “I got stuck at work, but I’m home now and I’m almost ready.” She would have gotten out of there on time if it weren’t for fucking Ruben and his obsessive need for b-roll.
“I thought you were coming straight here,” Ryder said with barely concealed agitation.
“I didn’t want to wear my work clothes,” she explained walking into the closet to grab her leather jacket, “and I can’t show up to your friend’s exhibit in a pair of your sweat pants.”
“You’ve known about this for a fucking week
.”
Jamie rolled her eyes while thumbing through the rack of clothes. “Yes, but I only agreed to go last night, remember?”
Last night, when Ry refused to let her come until she said yes. The man could get her to agree to anything when he was fucking her, a tactic he used to his advantage. Jamie needed to get a handle on that shit before he did something crazy like propose marriage while her ass was in the air.
“I was there,” he quipped dryly, “and do you realize it was easier to get you to have sex with me without a condom than it was to get you on a date?”
“I can still say no, jackass.”
“If you do, I won’t let you come for a week.”
“Who says I need you to come?” she challenged, tossing a pile of clothes from the hamper over her shoulder, onto the floor. Where the fuck was her jacket?
“I’m going to assume you’re talking about vibrators,” he bit, “and I’ll break into your apartment and hide all the batteries.”
“But you can’t take my fingers,” she sang smugly.
“The day your fingers make you come harder than my dick will be the same day I wear a pink tutu and sing I’m a little teapot.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, but unfortunately, he had a point.
“Fair,” she conceded, “now text me the address so I can order my Uber.”
“Fine, but hurry the fuck up.”
“Get off the phone and I will.”
Ryder grunted a goodbye before disconnecting the call.
Jamie took one last glance around her closet, then headed back out into her room with her hands on her hips. Think James, think. Jamie checked every inch of her closet, her jacket wasn’t there. She was sure she didn’t leave it in her car or at the guys’ house, so there was only one other explanation, Kensie.
Grabbing her shoes, Jamie slipped them on slowly, careful not to bruise her other knee. Her phone buzzed: the address from Ryder. She put it into the Uber app, shoved her keys into her purse, turned out the lights, and headed across the apartment to Kensie’s room.
They lived in a warehouse style building in downtown Seattle. The ceilings were high and tall windows stretched across the back wall. The main living area was open, the kitchen, dining and living rooms all ran together, creating a modern vibe.
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