I Bet You(20)

“What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

Several moments pass as we stand there. He’s studying me and then Connor.

I can’t take the silence anymore. “What on earth are you thinking about?”

“About how far you’re willing to go to get the guy you want.” He chews on his bottom lip, a focused look on his face as if he’s contemplating robbing the place.

“You’re scaring me,” I say on a laugh.

A resolute expression flits across his features, like he’s come to a decision. He hands me the coveted workbook. His hand doesn’t touch mine this time, and I think it’s on purpose, but I’m glad. I don’t want to have those kinds of feelings about Ryker, and I guess the desire is mutual.

“First, take this. It’s yours. I don’t want you stressing out today in class.”

I blink down at the workbook. “But then you won’t have one, and Professor White is a hardass—he’ll call you out.”

“Don’t you worry about me, Red. I’ll get one.” His eyes are focused over my shoulder, and I know he’s watching Connor.

I straighten. “No one—and I mean no one—calls me that. Don’t even try.” I frown down at the workbook. “But let’s focus on this. Why are you giving your prize to me?”

“So you won’t be mad when I do this. Just slap me when it’s over.”

Slap him? What?

With a flourish, he drops his backpack, sweeps me into his arms, and kisses me in the middle of the bookstore.





Penelope



What is happening?

His mouth takes mine, almost tentatively, his hands cupping my cheeks ever so lightly. Sensuous and soft, his lips sear me as his tongue touches mine, begging for entry. With a sharp inhale, I let him, and the kiss deepens, his lips insistent. He makes a sound—I can’t describe it—and a spark is born, a fire that builds and burns until my toes curl.

My first instinct was to shove him away, but that hope is dashed. I’m lost in the spicy male scent of him, the sound of his shirt rubbing against my chest, the way his scruff teases my face. I’m not sure where to put my hands, and they falter, finally settling on the sides of his chest. His body is hard and tense, as if he’s holding himself back…

I sigh into his mouth and he murmurs my name. Electricity dances over my skin where his hands touch. My face, the curve of my neck, my shoulders. His lips glide over mine as his palms press into my hips, guiding me against him. His cock is hard, and my chest heaves at the ache in my body. My inner self—the one who knows what a player he is—yells for me to stop, but I want this kiss to last forever.

Suddenly he’s wrenched from me with force as if someone yanked him off of me, but when I open my eyes, he’s only pulled himself back.

He’s panting and his lips are lusciously pink and swollen. His hair is mussed—did I run my hands through those strands?

He says something, but I’m not paying attention.

He towers over me, his gaze deep like the ocean as he takes me in, lingering on my lips. We’re still so close. I could kiss him again.

My lips are tender as I touch them. Ryker Voss kisses like he’s gearing up for a season on The Bachelor. I picture us naked, on that pirate ship from earlier, only this time we’re in the captain’s quarters rolling around on the bed. He wraps my hair around his hand and pulls me to him for a deep kiss, our tongues tangling. I beg him to do it again— He whispers, bringing me back. “Slap me!”

Why does he want me to hit him?

Somehow my foggy brain remembers the whole point of the kiss is to get Connor’s attention.

Ryker’s eyes widen as they look over my shoulder and then back at me. “Snap out of it. He’s looking now.”

Well, he is asking for it.

I slap him, mostly a nervous reflex.

“Goddamn, Red. You’ve got a mean right hook,” he whispers in my ear before he takes a full step back and speaks loudly. “I’m so sorry, Penelope. I just couldn’t resist kissing you…” He lifts his hand and rakes it through his hair, appearing to fidget as he moves from one foot to the other.

His voice carries the few aisles over to where Connor is, and I feel the gazes of several patrons move to us.

I’m impressed.

Has Ryker taken a drama class?

“Just keep looking at me like you’re angry,” he says in a lowered voice. “He’s trying to get up the nerve to come over here.”

“How do you know?” I hiss.

“Because I know dudes. He can’t resist being a knight in shining armor.”

I nod, his eyes steady on mine as we stare at each other, and I’m acutely aware that I like him saying those pretend words to me.

I just couldn’t resist kissing you.

“Er, is everything okay over here?” comes a low masculine voice. It’s Connor and he’s moved to stand next to me, looking earnest and concerned as he takes us in. A tingle of excitement shoots through me. Oh, wow… This close up I see the luminous gold color of his eyes and the cleft in his strong chin. He really is handsome in a boy next door kind of way.

“It’s none of your business, Dimpleshitz,” Ryker says tightly, but his tone lacks heat.