“Here’s what’s going to happen—I’m going to kiss you, and this time I’ll respect your boundaries. You say no, I’ll stop. You won’t throw your dad in my face, and I’ll try not to be an asshole most of the time.”
“But we’re fighting,” I say in confusion. When Dad and Holly fight, they can go on and on for hours. Dad and Mom don’t really fight because she’s never around, so I don’t really know how they fight, or how they used to. Aunt Ruby and Uncle Jim fight like cats and dogs, and Forsaken members fight one another all the time. But it’s just not the same as what’s happening here. Usually there’s a lot of screaming before they start making up. We’re not even screaming right now. I don’t know what to do with this.
“Not anymore,” he says.
Waiting for him to kiss me is beyond frustrating, so I take matters into my own hands and stand on my toes and press my lips against his. I don’t know that his explanation is any kind of apology, or even if it’s one that I should be forgiving, but I decide to let my heart lead. My head leads me to being alone, but my heart gets me to second base, God willing.
His arm circles my waist, and he draws me nearer. My arms wrap around his neck, keeping a firm hold on him. The kiss is mostly chaste, with a few peeks of our tongues here and there. His hand travels down to my ass, and even though my nerves are on edge with the idea of going there with him, I can’t bring myself to tell him to stop. My hormones are getting the best of me, but I don’t care. He grips my ass firmly and pulls me up against him. A tingly feeling starts in my belly and shoots down my legs, urging me to pull myself up his body. He bends slightly, not breaking the kiss, and grips me more firmly. He lifts me up easily as I wrap my legs around his waist. He turns us to the side and sets me on the pool table.
He pulls away and pecks at my lips as he whispers, “You have beer.”
“Not important,” I whisper back and peck at his lips.
He kisses me again and nibbles at my bottom lip with teeth. With ragged breath, he pulls back and says, “Shut it.”
“Excuse me?” I ask him between pecks.
“You’re ruining”—peck—“this for me.”
“What?” I nip at his lower lip.
“Talking,” he says and kisses me in a much less chaste manner. His tongue slides between my lips. My thighs clench around his legs, and it’s getting harder to breathe. I just want to kiss him until I’m numb everywhere. I choose to ignore his comment even though he was the one who started talking first. He can win that battle because I’m about to win the war.
“Who do I belong to?” I whisper as I pull back from his lips. He sucks in a ragged breath, and his cheeks are flushed.
“Me,” he says and leans in to kiss me again. I lean backward and shake my head.
“And who do you belong to?”
He smiles wide. “I belong to you.”
“Don’t forget that,” I say and smash my lips against his.
I’m finally letting myself believe that this might work out between us when I realize that we have company, and I pull away. Ryan is like a spider, the way he sneaks up on people. It’s like, you may not have proof that he’s in the room, but you just know he’s there. Watching and judging and plotting. And then you see him, and all your suspicions are confirmed.
He stands in the corner of the room near the entrance from the main room. A satisfied smirks plays at his lips, and his gray eyes are clearly amused. He’s an odd one, and he’s only getting worse as he ages. Back when Dad and Uncle Jim would ditch me in his and Ian’s care, he wasn’t so bad. Well, maybe he was, but Ian kept him in line. Ryan has always kind of been like the aloof big brother that I never asked for, never wanted, and tried to get rid of. But I wouldn’t want to get rid of him now. He’s grown on me.
“Shouldn’t be doing that. Miss Priss is just a baby,” Ryan says.
Asshole.
“At least he’s my age. Your girlfriend is practically still in high school.”
“Wishin’ we hooked up?” he asks while pointing at himself.
I roll my eyes and wave him away. “Hell no. Don’t you have someone else to irritate?”
A smirk covers Ryan’s face. As far back as I can remember he’s had a ridiculously huge ego. On his way out, he says in a mocking voice, “ ‘Who do you belong to?’ ‘Oh, you Cheyenne Grady, I belong to you. I got no fucking balls, and I’m a total pussy. My name is Jeremy Whelan, and my favorite thing to do is to suck Ryan’s dick.’ ” His laughter trails behind him as he leaves.
“He really lets you talk to him like that?” Jeremy asks in surprise while trying his best to ignore the goading.
“What is he going to do about it?” I’m careful never to embarrass or disrespect Ryan in front of his peers, so I don’t see why he would get pissy about the stuff I say privately. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. “Plus, he’s obsessed with himself and probably doesn’t hear a word I say anyway.”