Echo (Bleeding Hearts #1)(55)

“So it was only about the agreement to you.” My voice was heavy with defeat.

“Five years ago, yes. But not now. Not since the first time I slid inside of you, claiming you as my own. I think about it all the time. About that moment.”

“You do?” I looked up at him in surprise.

“Of course,” he continued. “When you’re not with me and I’m left to my own devices, what else am I supposed to do? When you told me you wished it was me…. God, I’ve rubbed myself raw replaying that moment in my mind.”

“You think of me when you pleasure yourself?” I asked.

“Of course I do.” He shot me an impish look. “I think about the way your perfect tits fit into the palms of my hands, or the way your hair spills down your back when I’m f*cking you from behind. How tight your ass was the first time I took you there. The marks I left on your back, I think about those all the time, baby girl. All. The. Fucking. Time.”

His voice grew more excited as he spoke, and my heart did a little flip in my chest.

“What do you think about?” he asked.

I tried to look away, but he turned my chin back towards him.

“Sometimes, I think about the first time you… went down on me. I never thought I would enjoy something like that, it felt so strange…”

A smug grin tugged at his lips and he kissed me again as his fingers trailed down my cheek. “I love your innocence.”

“So you’ve said,” I retorted.

“Are you hungry?”

I smiled. “I am now.”

“Good. Because I have a craving for something sweet.”





Chapter Twenty-Three



When we finally stood up to leave, I’d tasted more dessert than I cared to remember. Ryland ushered me towards the front door, looking as well put together as we came. I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes this time, secretly wondering if they’d all heard our escapades inside the private room.

When we stepped onto the curb, confusion hit me when the blinding light went off in my face. But after it happened several more times, I recognized it as the flash of cameras. A group of paparazzi swarmed us as Ryland pulled me against his side, asking question after endless question.

I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying, but Ryland wasn’t ruffled in the slightest as he fired off several responses. I heard my name, and the term girlfriend thrown in alongside it.

The valet pulled up in his Jaguar, and Ryland safely deposited me inside before he climbed into the driver’s seat.

When we pulled away from the curb, I turned towards him in disbelief.

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” he asked shamelessly.

“You set that up!”

“So what if I did?” he shrugged. “I want the world to know that you belong to me now.”

“You mean you want my family to know,” I said. “You want Brayden to know. Now that he’s getting out.”

He shot me a look that told me I was dead on. The familiar jealousy and resentment that always lingered whenever I mentioned Brayden’s name flared in his eyes.

“Take me back to my apartment,” I demanded.

He looked as if he didn’t understand what the problem was, infuriating me further.

“That’s not our agreement…” he stated flatly.

“I don’t care. You can’t just do stuff like this without talking to me. You say you want a relationship with me, but that would require you to care about how I feel.”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” he said.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it right now. I don’t even know which way is up with you anymore. One minute you’re pushing me away, and the next you’re trying to pull me back. I just… I need a night to myself. Can you let me have that, please?”

Ryland clamped his mouth shut and left me to stew in my anger and confusion for the rest of the drive. I didn’t understand why things always had to be this way with him. Why he hated Brayden so much, or how I could even allow myself to care for someone who felt that way about my brother.

When he escorted me to the door, I paused in front of it, unsure what else to say.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” I assured him.

“Are you ashamed of me?” he asked. “Is that it?”

There was anger in his voice, but vulnerability in his eyes.

“Ryland…”

“You said it yourself,” he interrupted. “You know you shouldn’t feel this way about me. Is that why you don’t want people to know?”

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know,” I softened my tone, taking a step closer and wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s that I’d like the chance to explain first before you go and do something like this. Why on earth would I ever be ashamed of you? If anything, it’s you who should be ashamed of me.”

“Don’t ever say that,” he snapped. “You’re perfect.”

He smoothed his palm over my cheek, his blue eyes growing cloudy as he searched my face.

“Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “This is the path I set out for myself, but I know I’m hurting you…”