Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MADISON

“So this is where the magic happens?” I waggle my eyebrows while making a sweeping hand motion toward his bed. What do you know? I just discovered something new about myself. I tend to make jokes when nervous.

Ryan stands by the doorway, wearing a button-down shirt and dark charcoal chinos. The cotton shirt fits taut across those broad shoulders but hangs loosely around his waist. He’d have custom-fitted clothes to accent those abs hidden beneath the cream-colored button-down in my world of perfectionism and old-school money. But it doesn’t matter what he wears. Ryan makes anything look good.

“The only magic happening tonight is us, Toots.” He toes off his dress shoes and sits on the bed while I stay stationed halfway inside the room.

“God, stop with the lame puns.” I laugh, secretly loving his humor. Ryan knows how to make me relaxed. It’s not that I’m nervous to be alone with him, but the implication of getting caught. Well, that, and there seems to be a dynamic change happening. I’m unsure if it’s real or imagining it, but I swear the energy shifted between us.

“Come here.” He pats the side of the bed.

Biting my lip, I slip my heels off and pad across the hardwood. He intertwines our fingers when I sit beside him.

“I think we need to talk.”

Talk.

That’s the one thing we don’t do much of. Usually, when we get time alone, we’re on each other like bees to nectar. I briefly wonder if he wants to end our arrangement. He had called it a relationship, but that was more in passing. We haven’t actually talked about being exclusive, but now that he’s passing physics, he no longer needs my help.

Ryan takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, only increasing my anxiety.

Wait.

If this was just a friends-with-benefits type deal, why am I so anxious for it to end? Sure, I’ll miss my daily dick doses, but there’s something more between us. I can feel it.

“I want to discuss our arrangement.”

Shit. He does want to end it. And from how my stomach knotted, I know I’m not ready to hear those words. I keep my face neutral and steel myself for the oncoming assault on my heart. The last thing I want him to see is how devastating ending this would be for me.

“You do?” I ask in the steadiest voice possible.

His fingers squeeze mine. “When that guy swooped in behind you,” he shakes his head, “I didn’t like it.”

My mouth dries. Oh. He doesn’t want to end things. He wants to take it to the next level. “Neither did I.”

“I know we can’t go public with this yet, but it’s only because of the team.” A pained expression crosses his face. “You not being at the photo shoot today … I hated that.”

“I hated not being able to be there with you.”

“Truthfully, this stopped being a friends-with-benefits thing for me long ago.”

“What are you saying, Ryan?” I need him to spell it out because I want him to be crystal clear. No assumptions. We’ve had enough toe-tapping around heavier subjects to last a lifetime.

“I want us to be a real couple. Be my girlfriend.”

A smile breaks across my face. “I guess what they say is true.”

“What’s that?”

“In a friends-with-benefits situation, someone always catches feelings.”

“This someone did.” His hand slips from mine and slides across my hips. He scoots me closer. Sandalwood and citrus consume me as his breath tickles my face. “And what about you?”

“My truth?”

He nods, his gaze slipping to my mouth. I’m instantly wet from his gaze alone.

“My feelings never stopped. Even when I hated you. Deep down, you were always there, hidden in my heart.”

His eyes darken to the color of his pants at my confession. He leans in and captures my mouth with his. It’s a slow, tantalizing kiss that absorbs every thought. All I can think about is being with him. I don’t want to be in anyone else’s arms but his. Is that so bad? As he traces his rough, calloused hand up my arm and doesn’t stop until he wraps those deft fingers around my throat, I don’t think it is. Nor do I care.

His lips consume mine as his fingertips press into my flesh. I melt into him, entirely at his mercy. This man welds power over me like none other. He doesn’t realize how great he actually is. Sure, he’s a cocky hockey player with the skills on the ice and in bed to back up his confidence, but he’s worth so much more than his big, thick cock. I’m just not sure he realizes it.

He’s dedicated to his team, his friends, and his family. He calls himself selfish, but I don’t see it. He sacrifices his own goals to take care of his dad. Assholes don’t do that. They just don’t.

“Stand in front of me,” he orders.

I oblige, his hand sliding down my chest as I push to my feet.

“You looked hot on that dance floor out there,” he says between kisses.

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. So fucking hot.” He palms a breast through my light sweater and tweaks a nipple. “It took everything I had not to join you.”

“I thought of you the entire time.”

“Yeah? What did you think about?”

“Your body pressed against mine, our hips grinding against each other.”

“Were my hands sliding over your curves like this?” He places one hand on my waist while the other lowers to my hip. Desire courses through my veins as I ache with need.

“Yeah, but”—I lower one hand to cup my ass—“more like here.”

“Ooh, dirty girl. I like her.”

“She’s only for you.”

His breath hitches. “You don’t know how much I like that.”

He gives my ass cheek a soft squeeze before unbuckling my jeans. Brushing his fingers along my waist, he finds the hem and pushes the light sweater over my head.

“You’re so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Ryan,” I whisper, caught in his web. I reach out to unbutton his shirt, but he grabs my hands. “I’m in control tonight.”

Our gazes meet. Without a word, I know he senses my silent consent. It oozes from me.

I love it when he takes charge. I can’t help it. Sex with Ryan is fun, and when he takes over, I don’t have to think. Just react and enjoy.

He spins me around and lowers my jeans. “Step out.”

I obey, enjoying the low, agonizing moan that escapes his lips. He must appreciate the new thong I may or may not have bought with him in mind.

“Fuck, Maddy. You’re too irresistible.” His hands have free range over my body. He leans forward and lightly bites my asscheek. He surprises me when he loops his fingers around the elastic string of my thong and rips it off. Guess I don’t need that pair anymore.

I hear the slide of the side drawer. Some shuffling sounds. Then, the slick movement of silk against silk. His tie.

“Remove your bra and raise your hands above your head,” he orders.

He stands at my backside and wraps the necktie around my wrists until they’re tied securely. “Is this okay?” His fingertips brush along the insides of my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I didn’t think it was possible to get more turned on, but it’s a fucking furnace down below. I’m throbbing with want and need a release. Soon.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes.” I nod. “God, yes.”

“Does being tied up turn you on?”

My face flames. I’ve never had anyone be so direct. So demanding. Maybe I should be embarrassed because I love this way too much. “Yes.”

“Good.”

I hear more shuffling behind me, and not long after, his shirt falls to the floor. His pants soon follow. I yelp when he swoops me in his arms and places me on the bed. I’m baring my entire body to him as I lay on my back with my hands tied above my head, legs spread wide. My nipples pebble in the cool breeze of the ceiling fan.

“Such a sight.” He positions himself between my legs. “My good girl.”

His praise has me writhing beneath him, practically begging for relief. I expected him to either fuck my mouth or suck my clit. He does neither.

“Ryan. I need you.”

“Grab onto the headboard if you need to.”

I fish around until my hands find the slats and wrap my fingers around them. Just as he always does, Ryan runs the tip of his cock along my slit until it’s wet with my juices. With heavy-lidded eyes, his gaze holds mine as he enters me ever so slowly, inch by inch, until he fills me up.

My moan is loud as I feel everything. Pressure. Fullness. The sweetness of him hitting all the right areas. This man has ruined me for anyone else. Nobody can make me feel this good.

He takes slow, tantalizing strokes like we have all the time in the world. But it’s the adoration in his stare that clenches my heart. It speaks volumes.

We’ve fucked, a lot, and I’ve loved every dominant position he’s had me in, but this right here, him taking his sweet and glorious time, has a lot to be desired. The intensity in his eyes, the way he holds me, goes beyond desire. It’s as if he cherishes me and silently promises that what we have goes beyond physical pleasure. It makes me feel special, treasured even, in a way I’ve never experienced before. It makes me feel loved.

“God, Maddy,” he groans, his voice husky with raw emotion. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Don’t stop,” I pant as my body writhes beneath him.

Ryan’s strokes become faster and more urgent. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through my body. My fingers tighten around the headboard slats as I lose myself in the feeling.

He kisses me then—a hot, searing kiss that steals my breath and leaves me gasping for more. His lips move against mine with an intensity that matches his powerful thrusts. I kiss him back fiercely, pouring all my pent-up feelings into it.

As the heat begins to build, he changes the pace again, his movements becoming slow and deliberate. He pulls back to look at me with a heady and unwavering gaze that I almost break.

“I don’t want this to end.” His confession comes out hushed. The raw vulnerability in his voice tugs at my heartstrings. I’ve never seen this side of Ryan before—this open, honest version of him that isn’t afraid to bare his soul to me.

And I’m gone, lost to this man who owns my body, mind, and soul.

“It doesn’t have to.” I surprise myself with the truth of my statement. We can find a way to be together despite our family. I’m tired of having my father hold everything over my head. This right here, having the man I care for more than anything in the world seated deep inside me, is all I need. We’ll figure out a way. We have to.

“Maddy,” he murmurs back, and his voice echoes that rawness right before the heat between us intensifies with each thrust. We move together, his rhythm matching mine as we lose ourselves in each other. The world outside our bubble ceases to exist; there’s just him and me and this connection we share.

He unravels me with every stroke, touch, and heated gaze. His fingers trace patterns on my skin that leave trails of electricity in their wake. He kisses me with an intensity that leaves me breathless and wanting more, always more.

Every nerve ending is on fire as I reach the brink. “Oh God, Ryan.” My back arches into him as the heated tension releases into mind-blowing gratification. His body stiffens above mine as he joins me in climax. Nirvana. It’s pure nirvana.

He collapses on top of me, panting, with our bodies still joined. He stares directly into my eyes. “Thanks for being my girlfriend.”

My breath catches in my throat, but I manage to say, “I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.”

Ryan’s face softens with appreciation right before his lips join mine. His kiss is soft and sweet, and I’ve never felt so wanted. He kisses my forehead right before pulling out.

He immediately unties my hands gently and pulls me against him. “We have a rare Saturday off coming up. I want to take you on a real date.”

I hold back my smile as I raise my head to look at him. After Blake had asked me about plans for Amanda, I knew they had a free night. I wanted him to ask me out, to make this real, and he just did. “We have to be discreet.”

“I’ve got that covered.”

He has it covered. That means he has thought about it. This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision caught in the heat of passion. I snuggle closer. I like that. I like that a little too much.

“That sounds great.” I draw circles on his forearm, happy to finally touch him.

“I’ll have some more free time during Thanksgiving.”

My body stiffens at the mention of the holiday. He notices.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m telling my parents during dinner that I’m switching my major to art.”

His head lifts. “You are?”

“Yeah, I’ve decided. After talking to my father the other day, I realized I’ll never please him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pleasing yourself.”

I snort. Apparently, I’m immature.

“Okay, that came out wrong. But I’m totally down for watching.”

He always makes me smile. “I bet you are.”

“Mm-hmm, but I’m also proud of you. What pushed you over the edge?”

“When I came back from his office, I was so angry with him. I vented to Amanda for a minute, headed straight to my room, and drew. I poured my feelings into that portrait.”

“I hate that he upset you, but I’m thankful you have an outlet.”

“It’s my best piece to date. And the focal point for the art contest. It’s kind of ironic. Because of his hatred, I now have a theme for the overall collection.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He takes my hand as we return our stare toward the ceiling. “Do you want me to be there when you tell your parents?”

“You know that’s not a possibility. They can’t know about us. Not yet.” After Dad’s warning, there isn’t any way I can bring him around. I wouldn’t put it past him to make a phone call to Alex to stop the donation.

“I know, but I hate you facing them alone. It doesn’t seem right.”

“I appreciate that more than you know. But this is my battle.” I kiss his knuckles. “I’ll be okay.”

He squeezes me and moves off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” I raise to a sitting position.

“You’re not sleeping in the buff?”

I make a shivering gesture. “Don’t want to get cold.”

Ryan’s soft chuckle warms my heart. For someone so domineering, he’s pretty flexible. “It’s in the top middle drawer.”

He slips to the bathroom while I tiptoe to his dresser. Without thought, I open the drawer and smile. There’s just something about men’s worn-out T-shirts. They’re cozy, soft, and smell like them. I dig down to find the most worn-out one. I move the top two shirts aside and gasp when I see the faded black shirt. I recognize it immediately. It’s The Weeknd’s After Hours concert shirt. I wanted to attend the concert in high school but didn’t think I could. Ryan surprised me with tickets. It was such a fun time.

I clutch it to my chest before putting it on. But the surprises don’t stop. When I close the drawer, I notice the corner of a familiar piece of parchment. My hand flies to my chest.

Surely, that’s not what I think it is.

But as I unfold the canvas and reveal the sketch of Ryan holding the Stanley Cup, tears spring to my eyes.

My sketch.

He kept it just as he said he would.

He called it his good luck charm and said he would always think of me. The fact that he brought it to college proves he wasn’t lying.

Just when I thought I couldn’t care for him more than I already do, he does this.

Footsteps warn me of Ryan’s approach. I quickly fold the paper and place it back in the drawer. I’m halfway to the bed when the door opens.

“Mmm, you look hot wearing my favorite T-shirt.” His gaze traces along my body and hovers where the hem falls on my upper thighs.

“Yeah?” I automatically turn around and wiggle my ass for a good show.

“Damn, you look too good. That ass … perfect.” He slides behind me and bends me over. Running his hands along the back of my thighs up to my ass, he says, “I can’t get enough of you.”

“It’s a good thing I like you then.” And that isn’t a lie. I’m already dripping wet from anticipation.

He drives inside me, making me catch my breath. I’ve decided nothing beats this fullness.

We continue this pace until I’m coming on his dick once again. We’re spent by the time we crash for the night.

When we reach the bed, he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around me. I melt into the curve of his body.

Guess I was wrong. This feeling right here tops everything else.