16. Ryanne “Shorty” Larwick

16

RYANNE "SHORTY" LARWICK

I couldn't tell the last time I'd have a good night's sleep.

Actually, that was a lie—the last time I had a good night's sleep was the night Khadri fucked me.

That wasn't making love.

Even though it had been my first time, what he'd done to me, I felt like I knew the difference.

Once that happened, I then needed to feel what it was like to have him make love to me.

Closing my eyes, I rolled over and pulled the sheets up to my neck, trying to hide from what I'd done and the cold of the A/C.

I can't trust you, Ryanne. Correction, I don't trust you.

I closed my eyes and tried to silence those words.

Even if I couldn't get rid of the hurt that I'd seen in his eyes at the thought of this other man touching me, kissing me, I needed to stop the pain.

The words tore through me like a blade.

It wasn't his anger—it was the disappointment.

He'd been disappointed in me and that was the worse of it.

Rolling over, I stared at the clock wondering what had gotten into me that night. Morgana warned me—whether it was her life's experiences or just her being married, something told her I was making a mistake.

And though she barely knew me, she tried saving me from this.

She'd been disappointed in me too.

The look she gave me as she exited the room, leaving me to get pretty for some man I didn't even like because of a—a what, exactly?

An ego trip?

Unable to fall asleep, I crawled out of bed to dump the outfit I'd worn out with Todd into the garbage. He'd touched the small of my back, my shoulder, my hops—his hands had been the outfit.

I stopped to use the bathroom and washed my face before making my way down the steps and into the kitchen. Khadri standing at the backdoor, staring out in the dark with a mug in his hand startled me.

"I didn't know you were here." I told him, immediately turning to leave.

"You don't have to leave." He told me, but didn't look at me. "I just came down to get some ginger tea."

"Oh…" I got myself a bottle of water then paused. "Ginger—are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You're a terrible liar."

He sighed and turned.

"I'm having a migraine." He admitted. "It's not as bad as others?—"

Nodding, I wrung the cap from the bottle and drank most of it.

"Um—they do say that—" I stopped.

It was a battle trying to decide if I should tell him what was in my head or keep it to myself. As I stood there staring at him, I realized he was hurting. He didn't complain—just the look in his eyes and the way he held his shoulders as he gripped the island to stay on his feet until he could pull himself onto a stool.

Setting the bottle on the island, I walked over to him, stood between his thighs and framed his cheeks.

"What—what are you doing?" Khadri asked.

"Helping you with your migraine." I whispered.

Without warning I kissed him.

He didn't kiss me back.

As a matter of fact, he clutched my hips and eased me backward.

"Khadri—"

"I don't want you."

I winced, but didn't leave like my soul was telling me to do. Instead, I gritted my teeth—if I left him here, if I walked away, he'd never talk to me like he did before.

He'd never grow to care for me again—to trust me.

"Not like this." He added, closing his eyes and moaning.

"You're in pain!"

"That's not—" Once again he closed his eyes.

I rushed over to the wall and flipped off the lights, plunging the room into a soft darkness being interrupted by calm shades of moonlight.

When I was back to him again, he exhaled.

"That's not how it works." Khadri panted. "I don't want you because you think that's going to help me not be in pain."

"Fine, then do you want me because it's what I want?"

Khadri tried getting off the stool, but I wouldn't back up.

"He touched you, Ryanne." Khadri shook his head.

"I told you! Shit! Men are so fucking stubborn!"

"Are you trying to wake the whole damn house?" He growled.

I frowned.

"No—I'm trying to get you to fuck me."

Khadri moved me out of the way and walked by me to put his mug in the sink. He gripped the sides of the sink with both hands so hard, the muscles in his arms stood out to the point of almost pulsing.

Not wanting to give up, I approached, slowly.

I pressed my palms to his back, dragged them up to his shoulders then down again. Leaning, in, I slipped my palms around him and rested my cheek against his back.

"If you don't want to." I managed. "I can just hold you. We don't—I'm sorry, we don't have to."

When he exhaled, I could feel his body almost deflate.

"Let me do this for you, Khadri."

He turned and looked down at me.

I couldn't see his expression because of the dark so I took his hand and led him from the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom. Instead of getting the ceiling light, I flipped on the bedside lamp that was not as bright and sat on the edge of my bed.

He stared down at me and all I could feel was shame.

"That night, when I was stepping into the car, Todd touched my back." I hung my head to pick at my fingers. "I felt nothing. But with you, you brushed by me and my entire body—I mean my nipples grew hard just having you stare at me and with Todd?—"

I looked up to see his eyes were closed and he was shaking his head.

"Okay—okay, I won't talk about him anymore. I just want you to know that my body is tuned to you." I pointed out. "And only to you. But if you can't trust me again, and if you can't touch me because you still think he did, then I won't expect anything else from?—"

Khadri curled his fingers at the back of my neck and sucked my sadness into his mouth. He kissed me roughly almost as if he was punishing me for what I'd done.

Groaning, I tilted my neck back, willingly taking what he was giving me and allowing him to take from me what he needed.

Khadri eased me backward into the bed and climbed over me. I melted into the bed and sighed as our eyes met—the look he was staring at me with was new.

It was cautious, careful.

"I can wait." I told him. "My body misses you but, I promise, I can wait."

He nodded, but only kissed me again.

Then he stretched his body along mine—his full, hard frame crushing mine sweetly into the bed. The weight of him was familiar and welcomed.

As the tears rolled down my cheek, all I seemed to be able to do was apologize. The words toppled from my lips over and over as he kissed me, touched me, peeled my clothes from my body until he was kneeling over my naked body.

"Aww, baby." He cuddled me into his chest. "Shh."

"I'm so sorry." I kissed his neck. "Can I make love to you?"

I stopped to stare up at him.

"I know men have to be in control all the time?—"

"Not this man."

"And I know it's not the most macho thing and I probably don't know what I'll be doing—but, could I please?—?"

"Yes."

Sighing my relief, I rolled us over and knelt astride his hips. My nerves kicked in and as I stared down at him, I was frozen in that moment. Then he smiled at me and all the doubts vanished like the snap of a finger.

I started with kissing him, giving myself time to relax as his large palms travelled up my side and down again. Usually, I'd be afraid to have a man touch me there because of the imperfections of my body, but Khadri seemed to not mind.

I nibbled on his neck, his throat then travelled down his body, taking his clothes along with me. By the time I was kneel on the floor between his thick thighs, he was gloriously naked. He pushed to his elbows to look down at me and I couldn't ever remember feeling this good.

"Tell me what to do, Khadri." I kissed the inside of his left thigh. "Guide me—teach me."

He moaned and hooked his right index finger beneath my chin, drawing me closer.

"I need your mouth." He leaned down to kiss me.

"Where?"

"Everywhere." He smiled darkly at me.

My eyes dipped to his very hard cock, the head glistening with pre-cum. My mouth watered but I managed to control myself to lean in slowly, keeping my eyes on his and licking.

Khadri purred.

When I did make contact with him again, I braced my palms on the floor, took him into my mouth and pulled him in as deeply as he would fit. He caressed my hair back but gave me the space and the control to take him as deeply as I could.

He cupped my chin and licked his lips.

"Do you like seeing me like this, Khadri?" I asked. "On my knees—helpless."

A smile curled his lips.

"I wouldn't say helpless." He rasped. "But on your knees?—"

I licked then sucked.

"Yes." He panted. "Now, use your tongue?—"

When he was at the edge, he stopped me and had me sit on the floor. He came down between my thighs and slid into me—slowly.

My eyes rolled back, and I sighed happily taking his full length.

Holding my hips, he rolled us over and when I rose over him, he only slipped deeper, making me come and curling my toes.

"We're not done yet." He told me, reaching up to fill his palms with my breasts. "You wanted to make love to me, Ryanne. You got it."

I rolled my hips.

"That's it, baby, ride me."

He made me different—every stroke, every pass of his lips, every taste of his come made me different. And while it should scare me, all I could manage was to close my eyes and gave myself over to the very depraved things I wanted to do to him—I wanted him to do to me.

Making love with Khadri was almost spiritual, each orgasm that rushed through me bringing me closer and closer to that unknown edge.

He tried controlling himself—his jaw tightening even as he closed his eyes and buried his face into my chest or my throat.

But eventually, he took over, held me down and made me come until I was a puddle of myself.

On the floor he took me, over and over—and when he did come, it was so deep inside me, I felt every powerful spurt of his undoing.

"I figured you'd like to see this." Morgana walked into the room.

Theodore was napping, Khadri friends were off working on a part of their plan with Khadri while I was stuck at the house with bodyguard they were calling Sparrow.

I was using Khadri's computer, trying to find jobs to apply for even though I didn't know when we would be leaving. It was clear to me that would depend on what they all found out today—on when Paul left.

"You said you didn't know what your father looked like." Morgana sat across from me.

She set a photo album in front of me and opened it to a specific page.

"It's an old picture." She pointed. "This is the day he left—he was nineteen here."

My heart raced.

It was as if I was looking into my own face.

His eyes were mine.

That was where I got the groove in my upper lip from.

That button of a nose—I really didn't get anything from my mother.

"At least now I know where my face came from." I muttered around trying not to cry. "Khadri found their first house. There were no pictures in it—it was almost as if someone went through it and stripped it bare. I did find this."

I lifted the pendant to show her.

"That belonged to my mother." Morgana told me.

"Oh—" I began removing it from my neck. "You can have it. It was the only thing I found in the house that I could say belonged to my parents. If it was your mother's you should have it back."

She stopped me by resting a hand on one of my arms.

"It would have been yours if things had worked out the way they should." Morgana explained. "It's usually passed down to the first child."

"Are you sure?"

She smiled and nodded. "I'm sure. So, have you fixed things between yourself and Khadri?"

I flushed.

"I didn't know you knew."

"Of course, I knew. I told you going out with Todd was a bad idea, didn't I?" Morgana sighed. "Only a fool can't see how that man wants to feel for you."

"Wants to?"

Morgana glanced toward the door before leaning toward me and lowering her voice.

"Yes." She replied. "He wants to love you, but something is holding him back. And that little—whatever it is you did with Todd—took all of that away. Now he looks like you how a man looks at a woman and that's not what you need."

"But he's supposed to look at me the way a man looks like a woman."

"No—that's the bare minimum. That's settling." Morgana stopped in a thoughtful pause. "Your man is supposed to look at you like a man looks at his queen. His eyes are supposed to hold a kind of storm that he only gets in his eyes when he looks at you. When he arrived here, he had that. Now?—"

"It's gone." I hung my head.

This time, I couldn't stop the tears.

"I don't know how to fix this." I admitted.

"It won't happen overnight."

"I know." I sighed, wiping away my tears. "That part of it sucks because I have no patience."

"You didn't get that from your father."

I chuckled.

"Men like Khadri are easy to figure out."

"How do you know?"

"I married one." Morgana spoke proudly. "They are simple. Don't lie to them. Don't cheat on them. Feed them and give them regular lovin'."

I blushed.

"Aww, Nana!"

"I was young once." She winked at me. "I can tell from the way Khadri gets along with Teddy that they are the same kind of man. They don't ask for much. If you can give them all those things I've mentioned, and let them win an argument here and there, they'll love you forever."

Morgana lifted the plastic covering in the album, plucked out one of my father's pictures and handed it to me.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." She replied. "Take it."

My hands shook as I accepted this precious gift then hugged her. When we were seated again, my attention back on the computer, Morgana didn't leave me.

I could almost feel her wanting to say something else to me.

Smiling, I looked at her.

"Tell me."

She shrugged. "I don't want to overstep."

"Um—you were giving me relationship advice after knowing me all of two days?"

Morgana laughed.

"It's nothing—just that—you called me Nana just now."

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "I didn't mean to?—"

"It's not bad! I promise." She held up a wrinkled hand. "It's just a little emotional. When Paul told me you'd died with my son and Anne—I thought the chance of having a grandchild was gone forever. I'd given up on ever having someone call me grandmother."

"Aww."

I hugged her again.

Morgana finally left me alone—she was actually humming while she all but floated from the room. Her talk left me feeling loved and warm.

Shaking my head trying to set the smile loose from my lips, I went back to the computer.

This time, I stopped working to find a new job and started digging through the net on information regarding wills. No one said anything to me over the years about my parents' wills.

Apparently, if the well had gone through probate it was a matter of public record.

The excitement that caused had me searching like a crazy person until I found a link that carried me to a specific courthouse in Toronto. Usually, this kind of information wouldn't be online, according to what I found. But after COVID, a lot of things were becoming virtual, and these records were some of them.

Finding my father's will, made me lightheaded.

Printing off a copy of both—the first will and the amended version, I saved the link and closed the laptop.

Khadri returned alone looking exhausted. Even though he wanted to hear what I'd found, I insisted on him taking a shower first. I could see from his eyes that his head was killing him, but as per usually, he wouldn't just come to me about it.

Once he was showered and dressed, I took him to bed, pulled him on top of me like that first night and massaged the back of his neck until he moaned and sighed.

"I have medicine for this, you know?" His voice was a soft rumble.

"Do you want me to get them?" I asked. "Do you have them here?"

"They aren't good for me." He admitted. "And I prefer this. It seems like the only time I can get you to hold me like this is when I'm in pain. I'm almost wishing for the migraines."

"Don't say that."

"I never want to lie to you, Shorty."

Sighing, I dragged my free hand down his bare back, then up again.

"Tell me what you found in your searches today," he said.

"I think I found the reason why Paul is trying to kill me." I replied.

"Oh?"

"My father's will." I explained then went on to tell him everything. "I can show you the wills when you're feeling better. But if I die before I turn thirty, he gets almost everything my father owned."

"How old are you now?"

"A lady never tells." I giggled.

"Ryanne Larwick?"

I whimpered.

"Did that make you wet?" Khadri lifted his head to stare into my eyes.

Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn't. He'd just read the truth in my gaze and tease me about it.

Sighing dramatically, I decided to try changing the subject.

"I don't think Paul knows about the amended version of the will," I said. "The updated version says if I die before I'm thirty he gets nothing."

"You love it when I growl at you." He insisted. "I think you're a submissive, Shorty and even better, I think I like it."

"You're like a dog with a bone!"

He laughed and settled against me again.

"I am a dog with a bone." He admitted. "Wanna see?"

I rolled my eyes but inside the heat that curled in the pit of my chest was addictive.

"Okay, I'll behave for now." He told me. "But I'm curious about something—who's the executor of the will?"

"Some lawyer name Sanjit Rupersaud." I recollected. "He died about three years ago— but —all his active cases were transferred to a partner at his firm. I don't know which. I don't know why the new lawyer didn't tell Paul there was an updated will."

"Maybe Sanjit suspected something sketchy."

"Maybe. But either way, I'm thankful."

"So, you're turning thirty when?"

I giggled. "Next year—June."

"Gemini or Cancer?"

I scoffed.

"Gemini—why? What are you?"

"Scorpion."

I trembled. "Well, shit."

Khadri laughed as he rolled over and adjusted himself so that his back was now rested on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him underneath his arms.

"You know, I wouldn't be against a few kisses."

"You ask too much, sir."

He moaned softly.

Laughing, I kissed the side of his head, his neck, then his shoulder.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much—when we go back downstairs for dinner, I'll have call Boss and have him do some digging for us. What do you think?"

"I think we're going to owe that man something nice."

"Like?"

"I don't know—maybe an authentic bottle of Jamaican white rum."

Khadri nodded.