66

Kassie

I'm Not Apologizing For This

Ryan shoved himself up and sucked in a breath, holding his head. He was still pretty banged up, the bruise on his face, the bruise on his side, I couldn't imagine how sore he was. But he fumbled for his phone anyway on my nightstand, cursing under his breath at how he'd overslept past everything.

I touched his arm. "Ryan."

"I slept too long, I shouldn't have—"

"Hey?" I touched his jaw. "You're fine. The only thing you had to go to was the meeting with the defense coaches—and I was going to wake you up for that—but they canceled anyway. I told June and King we couldn't make the double-date and took your name off your gym slots. Your schedule's clear. You didn't miss anything."

"You…?" Ryan held a pause. "You cleared my schedule?"

"I mean, the defense coaches canceled. I didn't wave a magic wand."

Stunned, Ryan gazed at me.

"You have to rest." I ran my fingers through his hair again. His curls were really starting to come in and every time I drew my fingertips along them, Ryan relaxed a little more, leaning into my touch. "I promise, it's okay to sleep. You need it."

Suddenly, it was hard to look at him and I averted my eyes to grab my laptop charger.

"Z and I are going to watch a movie. You could enjoy the fruits of your labor. Look around, no more holes in the walls."

I didn't make it two steps away to start rooting for Zariah's pajamas before Ryan snagged the bottom of the hoodie, drawing me back to him. Even in the darkness, his dark honey eyes smoldered. They trailed down my face. Drinking me in. And he was so close, I was an open book. The blush was impossible to hide.

My heart thumped painfully in my chest.

"This is my hoodie," he murmured.

I drew in a slow breath, "I stole it. Finders keepers."

With his hands on my hips, Ryan gently turned me around until my back faced him, clearly showing off his jersey number. He made a noise of approval. "I like seeing my name on you."

"You are very possessive," I said, not even joking. "Has everybody else clocked that?"

"No."

I frowned, turning back to face him. "No?"

"I've never been possessive over anyone else. I've never found anyone else to be possessive of."

Ryan wasn't tired anymore, he was all too awake, bright-eyed and slipping his hands under the hoodie to stroke my skin, inching up, while I struggled with a response. I had no experience with anything like this. There'd been other guys to fool around with, sure, but nobody like Ryan. Nothing like the way he could untangle me, leaving me exposed. Vulnerable.

"Well, I needed the hoodie," I explained and even that explanation sounded weak. With shaky fingers, I tugged down the collar until I could show him the necklace of hickeys and bite marks that he'd gifted me. I tried to laugh. "You're trouble."

Ryan's eyes darkened.

The look on his face made it hard to swallow.

"I'm looking for an apology," I said softly.

He shook his head and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, tugging me closer. "I'm not apologizing for this."

The first thing he should've thought of when he saw the hickeys was how visible they were. It was all about keeping up the Romans' image. A ring of hickeys around my neck didn't exactly scream professionalism.

But he dipped down to my throat anyway.

I couldn't believe it. " Ryan. "

He ran his lips across my skin, bringing out more than goosebumps. More than a blush. My entire body leaned towards him, practically begging for him to continue, and the words vanished to stop him. This was one of Ryan's favorite things. I could taste his excitement in the air as he kissed my neck slowly, languishing in the moment.

But I can't hide these forever .

"Ryan," I said, a little more firm. Stopping him was the hardest thing in the world to do but it was a necessary evil.

He made a noise at the back of his throat in acknowledgement and it vibrated against my skin.

Oh. Fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"No hickeys."

Ryan kissed the base of my throat. "But I like showing off what I own."

Heat pooled between my legs.

Why do I have to be the bad guy here?

"Don't even think about it." I trembled. "You're going to thank me for this tomorrow. You're going to thank me. God, I just have to keep reminding myself that. Because, Ryan, these got to fade—I can't just walk around with hickeys on my neck."

"On your neck?"

" Yes . I'm not walking around like I fell into an Octopus tank."

"Not on your neck. Understood." Ryan nodded and finally pulled away from me. But just when I thought he was done, he slipped his hands under my ass, and brought me up to his lap—to his hard cock, pulsing through his boxers.

There went all my arguments, flying out the window. It felt too good to rock against him. Ryan worked meticulously, raising up my arms to take the hoodie out of the equation before I could come back to my senses.

Underneath, the only thing I had on was a tank top. His breathing slowed.

Ryan peeled it down a few inches, not trying to take it off at all, but exposing the swell of my breasts. His lips were back on me in an instant. He kissed down my neck, my collarbone, taking his time, right where nobody would've seen what he wanted to do with me.

"Kassie…" he murmured and gently sucked on the skin.

I couldn't keep down the whimper and rolled my hips against him. It wasn't just him that liked the hickeys. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like them, another reminder of how much Ryan couldn't wait to touch me.

A knock echoed on the door and both of us froze.

"I remember asking for my pajamas," Zariah reminded me, subdued through the door. "I don't remember getting them!"

My cheeks burned like a furnace and Ryan leaned back just to rest his forehead on my chest, chuckling under his breath. We were caught red-handed. And I definitely hadn't been quiet.

"Hey, Zariah," Ryan called out.

"Hello, slut number two! Can I get my pajamas now?"

I eased off of him and hit the ground, still flushed with embarrassment. Ryan didn't care though. He pulled the rest of his clothes that I'd folded for him on my desk, pleased. The grin was hard to miss.

"I'm grabbing them!" I assured Zariah and went searching through her dresser.

Ryan stood behind me. I felt him before I even saw him, inches away. "Do you have a bag?"

"A bag?" I frowned. "What do you need a bag for?"

"No. You need one."

I found Zariah's pajamas under the pile of unfolded, clean clothes, but turned around when I figured out exactly what Ryan was talking about with that smug grin on his face and his hair tousled from a long nap. "Nope. Not going to happen."

"Why not?"