“No. No, it has nothing to do with that, but I’ve been single for eight months. I haven’t been with anyone in eight months—”
“So, you were going to let that piece of shit be the first man to touch you?”
“It’s just sex! It doesn’t mean anything!”
“Yes, it does!” He’s desperate, pleading for me to understand. His tone lowers to almost a whisper. “It means something, Indy, and you may have blown our cover for some jackass who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
“Ryan,” I say softly. “All my life I’ve been told I’m too emotional, that I feel too much, so for once I’m trying to be the girl who is unattached. Look what happened to me the last time I loved someone.”
The truth is, I’ve never had meaningless sex in my life. I lost my virginity to Alex. I truly have no idea how to be unattached.
Ryan pounds back his shot of whiskey. “You’re right.” His glass hits the counter. “Do what you want. I’m just your roommate, right? It doesn’t matter how I feel about the situation.”
How he feels about the situation? If he’s upset his GM could’ve caught me, that’s one thing, but if he’s hurt because I didn’t ask him to be the first man post-breakup, that’s another. Does he not remember that he’s the one who rejected me on the couch a few weeks ago? And now that I know that he’s celibate, I would never ask him to change his lifestyle for me.
“Maybe do it in private next time, you know, to keep up our little ruse.”
I should tell him the truth—I don’t want just anyone’s help. I want his help—but it’d probably make things worse. Besides, Ryan knows how attracted I am to him, so I doubt he’d be shocked to learn what I want, and he already told me where he stands.
Instead, I give him as much of the truth as I can muster, stopping him before he makes it past the threshold of his room.
“You want the truth?” I swallow as he looks over his shoulder at me, bright eyes pleading for me to say something that’ll make the situation better. “The truth is I haven’t gotten off in eight months.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “You think I haven’t tried to take care of it myself? I have. Countless times. And every time I get close, an image of my ex-boyfriend pops into my head and suddenly, I’m back in our old apartment walking in on him fucking his coworker. He cheated on me and now I can’t even have an orgasm because of it.” A half-hearted laugh escapes me. “I’m pretty sure my body is broken, so yeah, I thought I’d test that theory by having someone else there to help distract me. I didn’t think about being seen in public, so I apologize for that, but I’m not going to apologize for having needs and being desperate to take care of—”
Ryan’s hand brackets my throat, pinning me to the wall with his hips, stealing the rest of my words when his mouth takes mine.
Instantly, I’m compliant, pliable, letting him take me however he wishes. On the other hand, he’s commanding in his standard controlling manner, but there’s a juxtaposition in the way he kisses. Rough but thoughtful. Hurried but enjoyed.
This…this can’t be fake. There’s no one else to witness it and therefore that insecurity has vanished from my mind.
A whimper crawls up my throat when his tongue sweeps into my mouth.
He groans, pressing his forehead to mine. “Fuck, Ind. Make those little noises again and I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”
“Good, I don’t want you to.”
Hesitating for a moment, eyes bounce between mine until his lips are back where they belong.
The whiskey he drank burns my senses in the most delicious way, like I could get drunk on it, simply from tasting it on his tongue. His body falls into mine with a low grunt and his hand releases my throat, instead finding the wall behind me with whatever restraint he has left.
I’ve never been kissed like this. Desperately. Longingly. As if he’s needed to do this since the day I walked into the apartment in the same way I have.
I have no idea how long it’s been since he’s been touched. This lonely man, who is so stunning and controlled, hasn’t been intimate for far too long and I get to be the woman to change that.
Fingertips sliding up his chest, I touch every crevice and ridge, his heart beating against my palm at an erratic pace. Though Ryan is great at appearing controlled on the outside, his heart tells a different story.
The pads of my fingertips glide up his neck, cupping either side of his skull, holding him to me.
He whimpers at that, and I don’t know if it’s the feeling of simply being touched or knowing someone else has got him that breaks him, but either way I plan to recreate that sense as long as he’ll let me.
Every kiss is wetter, needier than the one before, my body burning with how badly I want him. How achingly sweet the pain is between my legs, needing something to rub against.
With his hands bracketed above me, he moves from my mouth to my jaw, peppering hot slides of his lips until he takes my neck, working his way down the column of my throat.
“You’re not broken,” he rasps against my skin. “You just didn’t have the right distraction.”
He might be onto something because right now, with him touching me, kissing me, I’m not thinking about anything other than how he would feel between my legs.
Ryan nips at my collarbone, leaving a precious sting before licking it to soothe.
Head falling back, I offer him better access, my tits flush against his chest. My hard nipples press into the softness of his shirt. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give for him to rip this dress off me and take one in his mouth.
Instead, his lips are back on mine, eager and wanting. Giving me just enough to placate my neediness. Even in his giving, he’s controlled. I want him to unravel, to lose himself in the way I feel lost right now.
My lower body grinds into nothing, searching and throbbing. Pulling at his forearms, I ask him to touch me without having to beg for it, but he stays strong, his palms bracing the wall above my head.
Instead, his foot slides between mine, urging them apart.
“Oh,” I cry out, followed by the most desperate of moans when he positions his thigh to hit against my clit. “Oh God.”
On instinct, I grind against him, rocking my needy body and chasing a desperate release.
It feels good. Too good.
Pulling back, Ryan watches me, his eyes locked on where we’re connected. Dilated pupils zero in on his leg. He slightly lifts my dress, not enough for him to see all of me, but just enough to note the glistening wetness I’m leaving on his thigh.
I could give two shits that my arousal is all over his leg. I haven’t been this close in months.
“Look how pretty that is, Blue.”
“Please don’t stop.” The words are more desperate than they’ve ever been.
“Never, baby.”
Building and building, reaching for my climax, I rub, needy and frantic, as he grinds into me with the tempo I need.