Upside Down (Breaking the Rules #3) - A.M. Madden Page 0,52

at his mouth when he spoke… or chewed. That orgasm he’d gifted me created an obsession with how his mouth would feel if his hand managed to blow my mind as it had.

A switch flipped within me, bringing clarity and understanding that I hadn’t experienced before tonight. Even after all the heart-to-heart talks that we’d had these past few weeks, and some were pretty damn filthy at that, it was that physical act he bestowed on me that pushed me into a different dimension. Obviously, so had the few kisses we had shared, but what had happened tonight shocked me in an unexpected way.

I had thought becoming physical with Ricky would scare me back into denial, when just the opposite had occurred. I wanted more.

Only when Ricky placed his chopsticks down, pushed away the empty plate, and stared at me did I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Sorry… I get cranky when I’m hungry.” He looked away and mumbled something else that I barely caught.

“What was that?”

One brow rose, along with a smirk. “I said… and horny.” He rolled his eyes at my surprised expression. “Don’t pretend this is news. I saw you noticing my predicament.”

“I’m not pretending,” I responded, raising my palms in a form of surrender. “Yeah, I knew you were aroused but I had no idea what you were thinking… or feeling. I was too busy focusing on the tsunami in my own head.” Because of the one between my own legs.

He leaned back and folded his arms. “A good tsunami or bad?” If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn his question stemmed from a vulnerability he tried to mask. Why should he be unsure?

Attempting humor, I asked, “Is there such a thing as a good tsunami?”

“That depends on how you recover from it,” he countered. “You never answered my question from earlier.” At seeing my blank expression, he added, “Do you still doubt liking men?”

“Yes, I do still doubt that.” He shook his head in disgust, misconstruing my point. “Calm down, Ricky. I may not be convinced I like men, but I do know I like you.” Those words came out of my mouth before I could think them through, but I promised to be honest at every turn. “For whatever reason, it’s you I want.”

My response instantly changed his demeanor when he gave me that smirk of his and came closer. “In that case,” he said, opening his arms as an invite. “Take me. Let’s see how you do during the heavy stuff.”

“Knock it off and be serious.” I wasn’t interested in the cocky shield he hid behind. If I was stripping myself bare for him, then I expected the same.

Maybe it was my tone, or the look on my face, but he got the message. “Okay, I’m sorry. I guess I just expected you to be more freaked out.”

“I am freaked out… but not in the way you think,” I argued. “You, on the other hand, seemed to be more freaked out than I am.” His shrug meant he wasn’t denying it. “You’ve been flipping between two modes—arrogance and trepidation, and it’s making me dizzy.”

“Maybe because I didn’t expect to be the one shell-shocked.” Again, his mood changed into anger.

“Shell-shocked how?” I pushed. This wasn’t going to be a one-way street. If I was going to be honest, damn well he would be too.

“Shell-shocked in realizing that I’m fucking screwed,” he admitted with a scowl, leaving no doubt that realization did indeed piss him off. It also caused a slew of questions to pop up in my mind. But at that moment, my phone buzzed on his coffee table. No sooner had I lifted it to see a text from Rebecca than Ricky’s buzzed next.

We both read the words on our screens from a group text:

At hospital. He or she is coming now!

And at the same time, we flipped our phones and simultaneously said, “Shit.”

Chapter Eighteen

Ricky

Thankfully, before he had the chance to fixate on my admission of being fucking screwed, I was saved by the bell in the form of a text. I was trying hard to process it all, but I knew he would eventually want to discuss what I meant.

For starters, once he made it clear he wanted to make things physical, it took every ounce of willpower to keep it somewhat tame. My intentions were a test of sorts. If he couldn’t handle a hand job, then his game would be over before we got started. But he