bother with teasing or trying to draw it out. This is about getting me across the finish line the fastest way possible.
He trails his lips along my shoulder blade and brings his mouth next to my ear. “I love having my hands on you. Being inside you.”
I shudder. With him boxing me in, my body moves the only way it can. I writhe against him.
He nips my earlobe. “Come, Lyric.”
Oh, fuck.
My orgasm takes hold, my body rocking as it washes over me, but Ryder’s right there holding me in place while my cum spills into his hand.
He holds me while I catch my breath and become dead weight in his arms.
Ryder’s lips kiss the back of my head and my sweaty neck. His tenderness comes through in the way he doesn’t pull away immediately.
Eventually, we part, and I slowly stand.
Ryder strips the condom off and pulls up his pants.
“Bathroom’s through there.” I point.
He doesn’t say anything, just leaves to the adjoining room.
My body aches as I move to fix my underwear and jeans and prepare myself to come face-to-face with the possibility of Ryder running.
He hasn’t done it yet, but it always feels like he’s got one foot out the door.
That he’ll change his mind.
I fear he’ll realize I’m not worth risking his daughter’s happiness for.
I wait for the “We probably shouldn’t have done that.” Or even the “I still don’t know if I can give you what you want.”
Instead, when Ryder comes back, he’s all casual smiles as he grabs his shirt off the table and throws it over his head.
His blue eyes are constantly on me, and when he’s completely redressed, he finds my shirt on the floor and tosses it my way.
I put on the gross shirt, still unable to find the right words to say.
Our lives are intertwined in more ways than one right now, which is why it would’ve been smart not to kiss him that day in his recording studio.
I should’ve stepped back then.
Now we’re here, and—
Ryder steps into my space. “Lyric, breathe. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
Ryder presses against me, his arms going around my back. “Come home with me tonight?”
Not what I was expecting. Not at all. “Really?”
“Yeah …”
“Am I imagining that tone of doubt?”
“No. I’m just new to this. And the last time I asked someone to stay, he left to give me respectful time to think it over.”
“What. An. Asshole.”
“Right?”
I press my lips together. “Are you sure?”
“So sure. When I’m with you, all I want is more. More of your time. More of your touch. More … of everything. But as soon as those thoughts are there, so are questions about where it could really go, and that’s when a million things pop into my head about Kaylee, and you recording, and being an out artist, and being yourself without my closet door in your way, and leaving to go on tour, and I left that life for Kaylee, and it’s a big never-ending cycle that freaks me out, and—”
I know I shouldn’t laugh, but it slips out. My hands reach for Ryder’s shoulders. “It’s your turn to breathe.”
He does.
“It’s okay to have doubts. Fuck, I have a million voices in my head telling me why I shouldn’t be attracted to you. Why I shouldn’t have sex with my boss or the guy producing my demo. There are a thousand reasons to leave and only one to keep chasing the high you give me.”
“What’s the reason?”
I bite my lip. “I like you.”
Ryder’s eyes soften, and he leans forward, capturing my mouth with his.
I let it happen.
I let him take control and enjoy the softness of his lips and the gentle caress of his tongue against mine.
All my reasons for not doing this are drowned out when Ryder kisses me.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ryder murmurs.
“Definitely.”
“Did you drive here?”
“Brenna dropped me off. I was gonna Uber home.”
“Perfect. You can come with me.”
On the way out, I nod to Alex behind the bar, and when he’d usually wave me off, he kind of stands there with a stupid stunned expression on his face.
“Who’s that?” Ryder yells over the loud music.
“Alex. He’s a bartender here, but he performs during the week. He wanted me to put in a good word.”
Ryder waves politely at Alex, but then we move fast toward the door. He expertly ducks his head in a way that means the people lined up outside the club can’t see or recognize him, and