I Bet You(51)

“But you aren’t that kind of girl,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on my chest and working its way down to my legs. His eyes come back to mine and I falter, seeing the way his have darkened. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”

I suck in a breath.

He huffs out a laugh and props a muscled bicep against the doorframe then leans down until our faces are inches apart. “You ignored my text, Red. You ignored a text where I said some pretty revealing shit. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Should I be pissed off? Should I pretend it never happened? Or better yet, should I just come over here and prove to you that I meant every word?” He pauses and pretends to think. “But you know, in a way, I’ve been doing that already. I feel like I’m always proving shit to you. Hell, I spent two hours fixing your car tonight. What else do you need to see that I’m the one you want?”

“You left me at Cadillac’s with another guy!”

“So you could see you didn’t really want him.”

My mouth is open, and I quickly shut it. My body, which has a mind of its own, leans toward him until I’m standing on the threshold, our bodies an inch from touching. “I want you,” I say.

He cups my face, his blue-green eyes at half-mast. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?”

“How long?” I ask on an exhalation, our breaths mingling. He smells like toothpaste and it makes me smile. He prepared before coming here.

“Maybe since the moment you wrote that article, and I saw you on campus and made the connection. You don’t care who I am. You’re the most honest person I know.”

“So before I spilled water on you?”

He laughs.

Butterflies flip in my stomach. I tug on his shirt until his lips are a breath away from mine. “Then shut up and kiss me.”

He captures my mouth and murmurs my name as his hands go to my lower back, pressing me against him. Forget that bookstore kiss. Forget every kiss I’ve ever had. This one is real. This one is fire and ice and burns so good. His tongue tangles with mine, going deeper, searching and tasting me. His lips consume me and I give it back just as good, our mouths battling for dominance. He pushes his hands into my hair and I moan as his teeth nip at me, his tongue insistent. Need and desire build momentum within me, and I think I might combust from a kiss alone. This. Him. I’ve wanted him forever. Maybe back to the first time I saw him come out of that bathroom at the Tau house with only a towel wrapped around him.

He stops to breathe, his forehead resting against mine as our chests heave. “Fuck me, Red. You’re on fire.” He presses his mouth against my neck and sucks hard, and I groan at the flashes of electricity it sends straight to my core.

“I’m so glad you came for me,” I whisper.

He pauses, and I look up to see his throat working. “I like those words on your lips.”

I take his hand in mine, and we walk inside. He shuts the door and turns back to face me.

My chest is heaving. His is too. My eyes flick down to the bulge in his gym shorts. God. He’s probably huge.

My eyes fly up to his face, and he’s wearing a smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His eyes go to my notebook on the desk. “You been writing in your notebook about me?” he asks, and it’s such a non sequitur that I shake my head.

Realization dawns and I gape. “You read the Holy Grail?”

He holds his hands out. “At Sugar’s, but before you freak out, I didn’t mean to.”

“What part did you see?”

“Where the Duke of Waylon ravishes the virgin with his big cock.”

I blink, adjusting to the knowledge. “Well, you seem to have gotten the gist of it.”

He trails a finger down to my sweater and unbuttons the first button. His lips brush my collarbone. “I can make it come true.”

“Big appendage and all?”

He undoes another button, eyes like fire as they brush over me. “Oh, Red, you have no idea.”

I don’t. I really don’t. “I’m a virgin. I know I told you already, but I feel the need to point it out again.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He undoes the next button and parts the sweater until the lace bodice of my camisole appears. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Well, don’t get your hopes up.” I wave my hands around my chest. “This is all smoke and mirrors. My bras are all padded.”

“Is that so?” He gives me a hot look as he unbuttons the last one and pushes the cardigan off my arms. It drops to the floor, forgotten. With a slight brush of his fingers, he cups my breast through the camisole, his fingers tweaking my nipple. “You couldn’t be any more perfect.”

His eyes hold mine and the air is electric.

I’m going to die if he doesn’t do something soon.

I must have spoken aloud because he chuckles and pushes the top of my camisole down, easing the delicate straps lower until the garment slides down and my breasts are free. My nipples rise to meet him as his head lowers and he kisses them. He cups me in his palms and massages, tugging until I clasp his head in my hands, gripping his scalp as his tongue toys with my peaks, taking them in his mouth and sucking. He’s gentle then rough and hard.

I can’t breathe. Delicious sensation wraps around me. “Ryker.”