The Knocked Up Plan(34)

That sounds damn good to me, too, but even when I strip down to nothing in his bedroom, I can’t shrug off the comment from earlier.

Ten minutes later, the door creaks open. There’s a clank of the metal end of the leash hitting the hook. The dog slurps water loudly in his bowl. Ryder tells him to go to the couch, then praises him.

And I am the naked redhead waiting on his navy-blue bed.

The naked redhead who should be a cat in heat. But I feel too much weirdness to just flip the switch to sex. When Ryder enters the bedroom, he does that sexy thing men do. He raises his arm over his head and reaches behind him, tugging off his black Henley in one quick move.

His gorgeous chest is on display, and my fingers itch to touch it. But my mind is in charge. Or maybe my heart. I sit up, even as he stalks closer, ready to eat me up.

“You’re more than your DNA,” I blurt out, meeting his eyes.

His face is hard to read at first, but then a slow smile spreads. It lights up the room. “Yeah? What am I?”

I crawl to the end of the bed and run my fingers up his chest. “I could rattle off a million traits, but I already told you those when I asked for your help. What I’ll tell you is this—I care deeply for you. And I believe with my whole heart that dates shouldn’t just be about the woman. I could sense you had a crappy day, and I wanted to make you happy again.” I brush my fingertips across his cheek. “That’s why I took you to the game.”

His lips part, and his expression softens further. His lovely blue eyes flash with a vulnerability that is rare for him, but I’ve seen it more and more. “It was one of my ideal dates,” he says as I drop my hand. He catches it, threading his fingers through mine. Sparks fly over my skin. “I love that you remembered.”

“I think when it comes to sex and dating, sometimes society focuses too much on the woman and what the man can do to please her and win her.” I squeeze his fingers, and he squeezes mine back. “But women should also want to do things to make the men they’re with happy. Don’t you think?”

He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I was happy tonight.”

“Are you happy now?”

He nods. “Yes.”

One word. So simple. But it does something to me—his yes ignites tingles all over my flesh. “Good. I like it when you’re happy.”

“I’ll be even happier when I’m buried inside you,” he says, his voice going low and dirty.

I loop my arms around his neck. “I think this is my last chance this month.” That makes me nervous and wildly excited at the same time.

“Then let’s make it count.”

I turn onto my front because that’s the best position, when I’m on my hands and knees, but he grabs my ankle and flips me back over. I arch a brow. He grabs the other ankle, and he tugs my ass to the edge of his bed.

He kneels on the floor and widens my legs.

“Ryder,” I say, my voice feathery. A pulse beats between my legs.

He shakes his head. “No protests.” He dusts a kiss on the inside of my knee, then travels along my thigh with his lips.

“But I can’t get pregnant if you spend all the time going down on me.” My protest is, admittedly, half-hearted. I ache for his mouth, even while I crave the long, hard length of him.

“No, you can’t. But you can get wet. You can get incredibly wet. And then after I make you come on my lips, you’ll be so goddamn ready for me to fuck you. You’ll take me deeper than I’ve been before. And like that, with you so hot and wet, we’ll give you what you want.”

There’s surely no scientific basis for his theory, but I don’t need science right now. I need lust. Want. Carnal desire.

His words are a torch. They send flames all through my body, making me ache even more for him. He rewards my ache with his mouth. He licks me up each thigh, and I moan, and I groan, and I quiver. When he presses his delicious lips to me, I tremble.

“Oh God.” My pitch climbs an octave as he flicks his tongue up and down my wetness.

I will say this about Ryder Lockhart: he has a world-class tongue. He’s a champion with his mouth, and he treats me like dessert. With him, I’m candy, I’m ice cream, I’m all the sugar in the world. His wicked tongue is an instrument of pure, white-hot pleasure.

“You know how I like it, Nicole?”

My cheeks heat as he looks up at me, his lips glistening.

“So hot when you blush,” he says, sliding his finger across my center to keep me on edge. “Now, are you going to do what I like?”

I nibble on the corner of my lower lip and nod.

“Good,” he growls, as he bites the inside of my thigh. “Fuck my face hard. Grab my head and go to town.”

He likes it when he doesn’t just lick me, but when I fuck his face, too. He told me the other night he won’t stand for it if I just lie there. Now that I’ve learned how he likes it, I don’t intend to take it lying down. The man makes oral sex a two-person sport, and in return I get the best Os I’ve ever had.

He reaches for my hands and brings them to his hair. He makes me wrap them around his head. Then his mouth is between my legs again, licking and kissing and sucking.

Oh God. I’m on fire. I’m parked on the edge of the mattress, and truly, I’m fucking his face. It feels filthy and freeing at the same time, with him kneeling between my legs, worshipping me with that incredible mouth as I grab and clutch him closer.