Cries and gasps spilled from me as he pushed me over the edge, my body convulsing around his. He groaned, his cock growing even larger inside me, then he was coming, too, the pulsing of his cock prolonging my orgasm in the best way.
Both of us were gasping for air and I felt boneless, draped against him. Wow. That had been … just … well, words failed me, but I’d never look at the kitchen counter in the same way ever again.
“You’re amazing, baby,” he whispered in my ear, making my lips curve in a tired but sated smile.
“Ditto,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to the skin underneath his jaw.
He fastened his jeans and picked me up off the counter, sliding an arm under my knees and the other behind my back.
“Wait, my pajamas—”
“You’re not going to need them.”
And he was right.
CHAPTER FIVE
My head was spinning the next morning, thinking through the conversation we’d had the night before. I was thrilled with Ryker’s confession, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. On one hand, I wanted to tell him I felt the same, because I did. I’d been happy these past few months and was coming to depend on him and need him more than I ever had someone else.
Yet he’d pulled the rug from underneath me with his hang-ups about my father and money. I didn’t want to put myself and my feelings out there if he was going to end things just because I had wealthy parents. I’d been cautious about letting myself feel more for Ryker because it had seemed so surreal that a man like him would want to date someone like me—someone who was na?ve, a bit sheltered, had a boring job, and was a total non-badass.
I’d gotten ready for work and was pouring a cup of coffee the next morning when Ryker appeared. Fresh from a shower, his hair was damp and all he wore was a pair of jeans. Literally. I knew he went commando when he stayed over and showered in the morning. That knowledge, combined with the view of his bare chest and arms, tempted me to set aside my coffee and christen my kitchen table the way we’d christened the counter.
“Good morning,” he said, giving me a kiss that made my toes curl. Taking another mug from the cabinet, he filled it with coffee from the pot and took a sip.
I gazed longingly at the fly of his jeans, currently unbuttoned, and sighed a little. Time to get my mind off it. “So you didn’t tell me … how does Leo Shea know you?” I asked. “And why did he call you McCrady last night?”
Ryker’s mug paused on its journey to his mouth. “I can’t really talk about it,” he said, taking another sip.
“I figured maybe you used to do undercover work,” I said. “Something like that.”
“So he thought you were dead, and now he knows you’re not,” I persisted. “Isn’t that a problem?”
Ryker set down his mug and crossed his arms over his chest. I tried not to stare.
“Yeah.”
I waited, but he didn’t say anything more. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I can’t,” he said. “It’s police business.”
“Leo Shea knows who I am, and that I’m dating a man he knows as McCrady,” I said. “I think that ship has sailed.”
His lips thinned and I belatedly remembered that maybe I shouldn’t have brought up that part.
“He wouldn’t know anything about you if you’d done what I told you to,” Ryker said.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” I replied, taking another sip of my coffee.
“Putting yourself in harm’s way?”
“No. Helping you,” I corrected.
“I didn’t need your help, Sage,” Ryker said with a shake of his head.
“I wasn’t willing to take that chance.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and returned his glare. His lips twitched and he walked over to me.
Sliding his arms around my waist, he pulled my stiff body toward him. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you’re mad?”
His gravelly, just-rolled-out-of-bed voice combined with the twin weapons of his signature half-grin and his heavy-lidded blue eyes made my irritation melt, though I pretended it hadn’t. No sense letting him know how much power he had over me.
“What an incredibly sexist and patronizing thing to say,” I retorted, looking down my nose at him the best I could while he towered over me. He pulled me closer.
“My apologies,” he murmured, his lips by my ear. “Make it up to you tonight? Over dinner?”
A date! I loved when Ryker had time for us to actually go out. His hours were so odd sometimes that it seemed we only saw each other in bed. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing …
“Like a real dinner? Or something we have to eat with our hands?”
“Real dinner,” he promised, his lips brushing my neck down to my collarbone. “I promise there’ll be silverware and everything.”