Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

GABBY

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I ask as I sip my water, my eyes fixed on the front of the restaurant where we wait for Bennett.

The Bombers wound up winning the game ten to four. Bennett went two for four, with one strikeout and three RBIs. He made two plays at third, one of them gunning down a runner with his torpedo of an arm. It was the most thrilling game of my life to watch.

Since Bennett doesn’t have all the fancy privileges the other players have, he texted me and told me to meet him at the restaurant down the street, a local taco joint he heard was good.

That’s where we’ve been waiting since we left the stadium.

“I’m positive. You two need your time together,” Ryland says, looking sort of stiff as the server comes by with his food in a bag. He’s taking his dinner to the apartment, where he said he’ll check in with Aubree and wait for me to join him.

I know I won’t have a lot of time with Bennett because he needs to get some sleep, but I’m going to try to soak it up as much as possible.

The door to the restaurant opens, and I hold my breath as I see Bennett walk in, wearing a pair of jeans, a plain T-shirt, and his Bombers minor league hat. No one recognizes him—why would they at this point—as he spots our table.

I hop out of my chair and run up to him, where he catches me in a hug, and I squeeze him tight.

“Oh my God, Bennett, I’m so proud of you.”

His arms wrap around me, and he holds me close to his chest. “That game was for you, Gabby.”

And here I go, crying all over again. I’ve been a mess all day. When I pull away, he holds a ball in front of me, and I stare down at it and then back up at him.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“The ball of my first ever hit.” He turns it over, showing me his signature and the words To my sister, who made this all happen. “It’s yours, Gabby. I want you to have it.”

I take the ball from him, my fingers tingling as I run them over the red stitches, floating over his signature, a signature I remember him practicing one night when he was a senior in high school. It was one of those things we talked about, one of the techniques of putting our goals out in the universe. He needed to practice his signature so people knew who signed the ball but so no one could replicate it.

Looking at that signature now, it’s perfect.

Through watery eyes, I say, “Thank you. This means everything to me.”

“You mean everything to me,” he says and pulls me into another hug. “Thank you for everything, Gabby. I fucking mean it. This is just the beginning. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

I pull away and press my hand to his chest. “You focus on securing a spot on the team next year. That’s what you need to do first.”

“In the bag, Gabby. I got this.”

Some might think it’s cocky, but it’s not. Bennett truly believes in himself, and that doesn’t come naturally. Him having such faith in his abilities comes from constant hours of practicing, day in and day out.

I believe him. This is just the beginning.

“Good.” I pull away and say, “I’m sure someone else wants to say hi to you.”

Ryland walks up to Bennett and pulls him into a huge hug. I stand there, watching over these two men in my life, appreciating one another as they pat their backs. It’s a beautiful thing because I know how much Ryland mattered to Bennett when he was in high school. Bennett relied on Ryland to be a voice in his life other than me. A safe space. A wealth of knowledge, and one of the reasons the scouts came to watch Bennett play.

It was Ryland.

Now that I think about it, I realize that a lot of Bennett’s chances came from Ryland. He wrote to scouts and colleges, telling them he had a standout player they needed to see play. Sure, Bennett made a name for himself, but Ryland helped get eyes on him. And I’m just remembering that now.

When they pull away, Ryland says, “You played fucking phenomenal.”

“Thank you, Coach Rowley,” Bennett says, his cheeks staining pink. “I’m really glad you could come watch me play. Meant a lot to me, and that you drove my sister too. I know she would have been a nervous wreck the entire time.”

“Trust me, she was.” Ryland chuckles. “I still think she’s trying to calm down from the nerves.”

“I’ll sleep heavily tonight,” I say.

“I think we all will,” Ryland says and then grabs his to-go bag. “Well, I’ll let you two catch up.”

Bennett’s brow creases. “You’re not staying?”

“No, man. I want you to catch up with your sister. This is a special moment for both of you, and I think it’s best if I head out. But you owe me a dinner, understood?” Ryland points at Bennett.

“Deal.” Bennett holds out his hand, and Ryland shakes it before pulling him into another hug.

“Really proud of you, man. You proved today that the dream can be a reality with determination and putting in the work. You’re the ten percent.”

“Ten percent?” Bennett asks.

“Ten percent of players who make it. You’re now a part of that elite club. Hold on to it, and don’t take it for granted.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Good.” Ryland gently pats Bennett’s face, then turns toward me. He grabs my hand for a moment and says, “You have the address?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Okay, see you later.”

“Bye.”

Then he takes off, leaving me alone with my brother. We both take a seat, and I hand him a Diet Coke that I ordered, knowing he’d want one. “Tell me everything?—”

“What was that?” Bennett asks, the corner of his lips tilting up.

“What was what?” I ask.

“Uh, that little exchange with Coach Rowley.”

“What little exchange?” I ask, the skin at the nape of my neck tingling.

“You guys touched hands, then looked at each other like something’s going on there.”

“What? Nothing’s going on,” I say, but even I don’t believe it as it’s coming out of my mouth.

Bennett’s smile grows wider. “Holy shit, something is going on between the two of you.”

“No, there’s not.” I wave him off. “Now tell me about the team. Did they like?—”

“Oh no, there’s no way you’re shaking this off.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not telling you jack shit until you tell me what’s going on with Coach Rowley.”

“I told you, Bennett. Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He presses his finger to the table. “And on this special day, a day that we should commemorate, you’re going to lie to me?”

I roll my eyes. “You know what? You’re right; we should commemorate it. We should be celebrating. So why don’t we do just that?”

Bennett stubbornly holds his place. “Nope, not happening. Spill the beans and then we can talk baseball.”

I groan in frustration because I know there is no way I’m breaking this kid until I give him the truth. “Fine,” I say on a huff. “There might be a little thing, but I don’t even know what it is.”

“I fucking knew it,” he says, his hand slapping the table. “I saw it when you two were watching me warm up, and then just now, I was convinced something was going on. So . . . what is it, are you dating?”

“No, not dating.”

He lifts a brow. “Are you . . . doing other things?”

I wince because I mean, yeah.

“Oh God.” He shudders. “Fuck, maybe I don’t want to know.”

“It’s not like that,” I say.

“It’s not? Okay, then what is it?”

“I told you, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

His lips purse for a second. “Complicated? How so?”

“He . . . he’s a great guy, but he has different responsibilities than when he was coaching you. His sister passed away this year, and well, she left her daughter in his custody.”

“Oh shit, really? How old?”

“I think four. She’s so cute. Loves horses, kind of quirky in the best way possible, and he’s amazing with her. She’s his number one priority, which makes having anything to do with him on a romantic level difficult. He’s not in a position to put his attention toward a relationship.”

“Do you want a relationship with him?”

“I’ve thought about it, which is weird because I wasn’t really in the market for anything like that. If I was honest, I never really thought I would be, not after everything that happened with Nathan.”

Bennett’s jaw ticks at the mention of Nathan’s name. “Don’t let that fuck control your life. He doesn’t deserve that kind of space in your head. Fuck no.”

“I know. I’m just trying to weed through it all. And yes, I like Ryland a lot, more than I probably should, but like I said, it’s complicated. We coach together, and he has his niece. I don’t think he has time for a new relationship.”

“Have you talked to him about it, or are all of these assumptions?”

I rub my hand over my forehead. “God, I don’t want to talk to you about this because . . . I’ve done things.”

He chuckles. “You can tell me, just . . . don’t give me details. We’re both adults, and you’re my best friend. You should be able to talk to me about anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” I let out a sigh. “When I interviewed for the teaching coaching job, I didn’t think I got it. I saw Ryland in the bar that night, and unfortunately for you, I always thought he was incredibly hot.” Bennett winces, lightening the mood. “So figuring I’d never see him again, I took a shot, and well, we had a one-night stand.”

“Wow, sis.” He sips his drink. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Neither did I, but Bower was the backbone behind it all.” From the mention of Bower’s name, Bennett’s mouth twitches. “Anyway, fast-forward, I found this nice apartment to stay in, and it turns out he’s the landlord. Things got a little wild, and well, we did it a few more times.”

“Yuck.”

I laugh. “And then we decided that the relationship was getting complicated. We thought it would be best to become friends without benefits, and that was honestly to protect my heart. If I kept fooling around with him, I knew I’d get lost in how I felt. Well, despite trying, I still got lost. He’s not in the same space, and that’s where we stand now.”

“Well . . . he’s stupid.”

“Come on, Bennett, he has a lot going on.”

“Nothing is more important than you.”

“His niece?” I raise a brow.

“Maybe her, but other than that, nothing else. And if he fucking liked you, Gabby, he’d find a way to make it work.”

“It’s easy to say, but he’s damaged. There’s so much you don’t know about him because you just know him as Coach Rowley, but when you peel that back, he’s a man with many layers that have shaped and molded him into the person he is today. There are things I even learned about him today that explain so much. Like I said, complicated.”

“I get it. I’m sure anyone who comes into our lives will find the same sort of battle. We have some pretty heavy baggage.”

“A trunk load, some might say,” I joke.

“Yeah, just a bit.” He sips from his drink. “Not that you need it, but if you do figure out how to make it work, you have my blessing. I like the thought of you two together.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yup. I think you’d balance each other well and, in all honesty, I know the type of guy he is. He looks out for his own, meaning I know he’d take care of you. He’d make sure no one ever hurts you, and as your brother who can’t be there to protect you, I like the thought of someone filling that space.”

“You know I can take care of myself, right?”

“You have told me that for what feels like my entire life, but guess what, Gabby, you don’t have to. You can lean on someone to pull some of the weight, and I think that person very much could be Coach Rowley.” I have a feeling he’s right too. Especially after today. I’ve never felt so connected to someone before.

I smile sadly at him. “It would be nice, but it won’t happen, so please don’t hold your breath.”

I tightly grip the ball from Bennett in my hands, replaying the videos and pictures Ryland sent me while I was at dinner with Bennett so we could look through them together. Bennett loved the pictures of me eating the stupid hot dog, the one-eyed one especially. He laughed so hard that he nearly cried. Lucky for me, I was able to steal a picture from the server with Bennett, both of us holding the ball together, because that was the only picture missing.

We talked about his hits, his one strikeout, and how he got caught up in the off-speed pitch. It nearly buckled him, it was thrown so well. He marveled at the strength behind his teammates’ bats and how he’s determined to put on the same amount of muscle. He then went into how he plans on working on the pitch that buckled him so that doesn’t happen again.

It was the best night—something I’m so incredibly grateful for—especially after such an amazing day. And now that my Uber is approaching Hayes’s apartment, I have a new set of nerves prickling in the pit of my stomach. Because . . . he was so wonderful today. Ryland not only anticipated my every need, but he. ..delighted in making me happy. As if I were part of his world, nothing would have stopped him from looking after me.

His encouragement, his thoughtfulness, his integrity. ..it’s like he’s made for me. All the things I like to give others. A support system I never believed I could or would have.

He was a rock.

He helped me through every step of this process that normally I would’ve had to do alone. I had him as a guide, as a photographer, as a mental release. And all these feelings throughout the day that have been building up are now coming to a crashing halt because I want to thank him. I want to show him how much I appreciate him, and I know that how I want to portray that gratitude is not something we do anymore.

Therefore, I’m a bottled-up block of tension.

The Uber pulls up to the address, and I know it’s the place because Ryland sent me pictures of the entrance and told me exactly what to do.

I thank the driver, who tells me to have a good night, then head into the apartment building and right to the elevator. It takes a few seconds, but as I travel up to the floor, I tell myself over and over again that I’m going to stay calm. I’m going to be cool, and I’m going to keep my distance but be grateful.

And we’re not going to think about that kiss we shared after Bennett’s first hit.

Not even a little.

When I reach the floor, I follow Ryland’s directions and then knock on the door. He opens it almost immediately, surprising me as he stands there in a pair of athletic shorts, and that’s it.

Dear God.

I don’t have the strength for this.

I tell my eyes to look at his face, but hell is it hard to tear my gaze from his massive chest and the divots and contours that make up his sculpted body.

“You made it,” he says, breaking the silence thankfully. “Was it hard to find?”

“No, you made it easy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He holds the door open wider. “Come in. I have your overnight bag in the bathroom so you can get ready for bed. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Actually, I’m feeling a lot more awake all of a sudden.

“Thank you,” I say softly as I shuffle into the apartment. I take my shoes off at the entryway and take in the decently sized apartment. It’s typical, nothing too fancy about it. Ryland told me it’s a simple place that Hayes stays in when he has to come into the city for meetings or to record.

The kitchen and the living room are all one big room with large windows overlooking the city. There’s a tiny couch that . . . has blankets and a pillow on it.

He must see me looking at it because he says, “Oh, that’s for me.”

“That?” I ask, pointing at the couch. “You think you’re going to sleep on that?”

“Yeah, what’s the problem?”

“Ryland, that thing is barely big enough for your left leg.”

He chuckles and shuts the door, locking it behind me. “It’s fine.”

“It really isn’t. I can sleep on it. I’m much smaller than you.”

“You’re not sleeping on that. The bedroom is yours.” He gestures to the bedroom to the left with the large king-sized bed.

“Uh, why do I get the room and you get the couch?”

“Because that’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Stop it,” I say as I walk into the room and grab my bag. “The living room is fine for me.”

He stops me, taking my bag from me. “It’s not.”

“Ryland—”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he says sternly. “So drop it.”

Shocked by his tone, I step back, only to watch the regret fall over his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to be so harsh,” he says. “Just let me be the nice guy here, okay? I don’t want you sleeping on the couch. It’s uncomfortable, it’s short, and it’s not a place you should be sleeping.”

“Then why do you have to sleep there?”

“Because I’m used to sleeping like shit,” he answers without even thinking about it.

I tilt my head to the side and say, “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing we need to get into.”

“No, tell me,” I say, concern building up inside me.

He looks to the side, clearly uncomfortable, but to my surprise, he says, “I slept on the couch in Cassidy’s house for months on end, even after she passed. Sleep has never been a top priority. Comfortable sleep, it’s something I’m not used to. So yeah, I sleep like shit, and I’m fine with it.”

“Maybe you don’t have to sleep like shit.” I reach out and take his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom.

“Gabby, I’m not?—”

“We can share the bed, Ryland. It’s big enough.”

“It’s really okay, Gabby.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. Either you share the bed with me or I sleep on the floor.”

His brow questions me. “You’re really going to play it like that?”

“Yeah, I am,” I say with finality. I flip the game ball in my hand to him, then take off with my bag to the bathroom where I get ready for bed. I take a very quick shower. I don’t bother washing my hair since I did last night and opt for some dry shampoo for it to soak up the oils overnight, and then brush my teeth and go to the bathroom. I slip on Ryland’s shirt that I packed for myself—it’s the most comfortable shirt I’ve ever put on—and then turn off the light and head into the bedroom with my charger and phone in hand. Ryland’s on one end of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head and the sheets only up to his waist, making him look all kinds of yummy.

Keep yourself together, Gabby.

Seeing me enter the room, he tilts his head to the side. “I packed the ball carefully into a plastic ball holder. We can get you a glass one, but it’s all I could find when I saw that he gave it to you.”

“You got a ball case?” I ask, shocked and touched.

“Yeah, I didn’t want it to get damaged. That’s an important ball. Like I said, we can find you a better case later on, one with UV protection, but this will do for now.”

“Ryland, that was very thoughtful. Thank you.”

He smiles. “No big deal.”

Once my phone’s charging, I take a seat on the bed, facing him and tucking my legs to the side.

“It is a big deal. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for everything you did for me today.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to keep thanking me. I was happy to be a part of it all.”

God, I want to touch him, reach out to him, let him know just how grateful I am, but I don’t want to startle him, make him recoil, and give me the lecture on friends with no benefits. I don’t think I could survive it tonight.

“Well, I’m glad that you were.”

To my surprise, he holds his arms out. “Come here.”

Uh, don’t mind if I do.

I lie down on the bed, enjoying how his fresh soapy scent seeps into my senses as he gives me a warm, gentle hug.

“Glad you had a great day.”

When I let go, he releases me as well, letting his palm travel down my back as he slowly removes his hand. I lift just enough to look him in the eyes, and I can feel the energy between us zapping.

The room shrinking.

The sparks flying.

But I know where this leads every time.

It leads to mind-blowing sex, with a conversation afterward about how we can’t do this again.

And I don’t think my heart can take it one more time.

So reluctantly, I disengage from the energy flowing between us, and I move to my side of the bed.

“Thanks again for finding us this place,” I say as I turn away from him and tuck my head against one of the softest pillows I’ve ever touched.

“Not a problem.” He moves in behind me, but not close so he’s touching, just enough to have my skin hyperaware that if he reached out, he could pull me in close to him.

I wet my lips and squeeze my eyes shut as I try to relax my body and find a place of Zen.

“How was your dinner with Bennett?”

“Uh, it was so good. It feels like ages since we’ve caught up face to face. I’ve missed him.” The bed dips as he adjusts behind me.

“Did you tell him about the foul pole incident?”

I chuckle and turn to my back. He’s really close . Only inches away. Keep it together, Gabby. “I did. He was mad at first because I was stupid for doing it by myself.”

“Thank you.”

“But then he laughed at the image of me sliding down the pole, clinging on for dear life.”

“I’m sad I missed that part since I was blinded by paint.” He plucks a piece of hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“Like I said before, if you didn’t put it on the list, it never would have happened.”

“And like I said, I didn’t actually think you’d complete the list.”

“Well, look who learned their lesson.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says in a light tone. And then, from under the sheets, he plucks at my shirt. “I see that you’re wearing my shirt. I assumed I’d be getting it back.”

“Ooo, that’s embarrassing for you, as you assumed wrong.”

He chuckles as his hand slides over my hip, causing goosebumps all over my body. “I might just have to steal it back.”

“If you want it, you’re going to have to tear it off my body.”

His fingers slide along the hem, and I know he’s going to crack me. I can feel it already as a dull throb starts pulsing between my legs. I’m already aroused. The type of arousal that’s never satisfied unless fully taken care of.

“Don’t tempt me.” He tugs on the hem of the shirt and then slightly slides it up my hip to where, lo and behold, I’m not wearing underwear. Why? Because I didn’t account for wearing a pair to bed.

He must notice because I can feel his body grow tense as his fingertips dance across my bare hipbone.

“Gabby,” he says softly.

“Yeah?” I ask, looking at him.

“I . . . I need to talk to you.”

And here we go.

The friends-without-benefits spiel, but this time, I didn’t even get to enjoy the sex beforehand. Now just the lecture. This is what my life has come to, and it’s entirely too depressing.

I turn toward him now and say, “It’s okay, Ryland, you don’t have to say anything. I know, close quarters and all. I wasn’t trying to entice you or anything like that with the no underwear. I just forgot, I swear.”

His brow comes together. “That’s not what I want to talk about.”

I pat his chest, his strong, thick, corded chest. “I know, friends without benefits. The kiss today was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I’m sorry. I know we really haven’t kissed since, wow, since a long time. I guess we don’t kiss. We just fuck, now that I think about it, and that was intimate. It was just something that happened, and I’m sorry.”

“Gabby—”

“Won’t happen again. That’s why I said I’d sleep on the couch. I know your boundaries, and we can’t keep going around in circles. So if you want me to, I’ll just go out to the couch?—”

Before I can attempt to move, his hand moves around my waist and down to my ass where he cups it and pulls me in closer to his chest.

“Oh,” I say in surprise. “What?—”

“Can you just be quiet for a second?” he says as his hand travels up my back, taking my shirt with him.

“Umm, sure,” I say.

He lets out a determined breath, then looks into my eyes. “I need to talk to you because I have to tell you something that I’ve been thinking about, something I’ve been wrestling with.”

“What is it?” I press my hand to his chest again, this time in a comforting way.

His hand travels over to my side, right to my rib cage, the shirt practically covering nothing of me at this point as I lie here, nearly exposed to him.

“I . . . I . . .” He pauses again, and whatever he has to say, he’s nervous about it, so I rub my thumb over his trimmed chest hair. The gentle touch causes him to lock eyes with me. After a few seconds, he finally says, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Gabby.”

Okay, I was not expecting that.

“It’s all the goddamn time,” he continues. “In the morning when I’m getting Mac ready for school, while I’m in the classroom trying to teach, out on the field, at home making dinner, when I’m putting Mac to sleep, when I’m waiting to hear you come in to use the shower. It’s all the fucking time, and it’s plaguing me.”

“Oh,” I say softly.

“And I told myself not to get distracted, not to get lost in your eyes whenever you’re around, but fuck, I can’t.” His grip on me grows tighter. “I can’t, Gabby.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying, Ryland. I really am. I’m trying to put the distance there?—”

“I don’t want the distance,” he says, snapping my attention back to his eyes.

“Y-you don’t?”

“No. I don’t.” He moves in closer and pushes me to my back. He drags my shirt up and over my head, leaving me bare to him as his large body hovers over mine. “I don’t want the separation. I want this closeness. Us . Not distance. And I swore I’d wait to say something. I told myself not today , so I’m sorry for being a selfish prick, but I want this. I want you. I want to try to be the kind of man you deserve.”

My mind swirls as I attempt to understand what he’s saying and where this is all coming from.

“I . . . I’m confused. I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”

“So did I,” he says softly. “But I can’t deny my feelings for you, Gabby. They’re too fucking strong. So I can either continue to battle them and get eaten alive from the inside every goddamn time I see you or I can do something about it. I’m choosing to do something about it.” He cups my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb. “Will you let me?”

“Let you try?”

He nods. “Let me try to be the man you deserve?”

Doesn’t he realize he’s already that man? He’s everything I’ve been looking for, and the only thing that’s currently holding me back is the uncertainty in his eyes. Almost like he’s scared, fearful of what’s to come.

“I . . . I don’t want to get hurt, Ryland. I know this isn’t something you wanted, and I don’t want to be the guinea pig, the one you test it out on.”

His thumb continues to rub my cheek. “You’re not the guinea pig, Gabby. I’d never do that to you. If I was a stronger man, I wouldn’t even approach you about this. I’d bottle it up and keep it to myself, sticking to my convictions.” He shakes his head. “But I fucking can’t. Every time I look into your eyes, a combination of the dark and light parts of the ocean, I get lost. I feel overcome by something more powerful than I ever thought possible, and all I want to do is be near you, hold you, and cherish you. I’ve attempted to stay away, but it’s not working. So if you’ll have me, if you’ll forgive me for being selfish, for putting myself first, I ask if you’d give me a chance? If you’ll be my girl?”

How on earth could I possibly say no to that?

I’ve been developing feelings for this man for weeks. He certainly made me come out of this fog of not wanting to be in a relationship. He showed me the kindness a man can give. He displayed love for his family, for his niece. He’s anything but selfish, and I know I’d never be able to deny myself of him if he gave me the opportunity to take what I want.

So on a shaky breath, I loop my hand behind his neck and pull him down, where I lightly press my lips to his. He sighs into the touch, melts against my body, and then molds our mouths together, deepening the kiss. Fuck, I’d forgotten how unbelievable his kisses are.

“Fuck,” he whispers, peppering my jaw with kisses. “Tell me this is real. Tell me you said yes.”

“It’s real,” I say as he cups my breast. I wrap my leg around his leg, pulling his brief-covered pelvis close to mine.

His mouth finds mine again, and this time, he parts my lips, and his tongue dances across my tongue, tangling and mixing, causing a swirl of excitement to pass through me. His kisses level up the intensity, bringing it from somber to excited in seconds where I’m clawing at him and pushing his briefs down with my foot. His cock springs against my leg, and I’m enamored with the feeling of how hard he is already.

He helps me take off his briefs and throws them to the side before bringing all the attention back to my mouth. I can’t remember kissing him this much, at least not as much as that one night with him.

“I fucking love your mouth. You drug me,” he says before pressing his tongue against mine again. His fingers play with my nipple at the same time, all the while he slowly pulses his cock against my leg.

And I love it.

I love it so much.

“You’re so hard,” I say as he kisses my neck. “I want you inside me.”

“We’ll get there.”

“No . . . now,” I say, pushing his chest so he’s on his back.

When I glance at him, a sly smile passes over his lips, making me want that mouth all over again.

I slide on top of his body, his arms encircling me as I capture his mouth. My hands hold his face so I can relish in his kisses and explore every inch of them. His hands fall to my ass, where he cups me and slowly rocks me against his erection.

The movement is simple, but for some reason, it feels more intimate, naughtier than anything else we’ve ever done. Erotic.

While our mouths explore, he spreads my legs over him, then sinks his finger inside me.

I pull away and exhale as I stare down at him, but he doesn’t give me much time. He captures my lips again, keeping us locked together with his other hand on the back of my head.

Slowly, he works his fingers in and out of me as I rock my pelvis over him, rubbing up against him, my arousal spreading over the lower half of his stomach, the friction creating a warm, billowing emotion in me, the early starts of my orgasm.

“Inside me,” I say.

“I am inside you.”

“Your cock, Ryland. I want your cock.”

He smiles against my lips, then releases my head, allowing me to push up. I sit up on my knees and grab his length, giving him a few pumps as he stares at me, one hand behind his head now, looking all kinds of happy and relaxed as he sucks his fingers past his lips.

The fingers that were just inside me.

“You going to ride me?”

“I’m going to use you.” I turn away from him, straddle his lap, then position him at my entrance.

“Fuck, yes,” he says just as I sink down on top of him, riding him backward, his cock rubbing against me in a different way that has every nerve ending on fire.

“Jesus,” I whisper as I place my hands on his shins and start moving my hips, feeling his length all the way to my freaking stomach as I bounce on top of him.

“Take this cock. Fuck it,” he says, sending a thrill up my spine.

Yes, this . . . this position’s everything.

With his girth and his length, this is what I need.

“Ryland, I . . . fuck, I’m going to come fast.”

“Good, squeeze my cock, baby.”

His hands find my ass as I rock over him, and with one spank to my sensitive skin, my orgasm rips through me, surprising me in the best way ever. I ride him, rocking over and over, taking every ounce of pleasure I can get while I let the best feeling ever float through my body.

“God, yes,” I say as my hips slow down, only to be flipped off him and to my back. I look up as Ryland hovers over me, cock in hand, pumping feverishly.

“Squeeze those tits together so I can come all over your perfect nipples.” I bring my breasts together for him, then watch as this extraordinary man pleasures himself over me.

The ripple in his chest.

The flex in his forearms.

The strain in his neck.

The grip of his large hands over his length.

So erotic.

So fucking delicious.

“Ahhhh fuck,” he calls out just before he starts coming on my breasts, his hand moving toward the tip of his cock where he pulses, squeezing out his orgasm until he’s completely sated and moves down on the bed next to me. “Jesus Christ,” he says.

We both lie there, staring up at the ceiling. His hand finds mine, and he links our fingers together. He kisses my knuckles before getting off the bed and moving around it.

He scoops me up and walks us both to the bathroom, where he turns on the shower. I eye him, and he laughs. “No funny business. Just want to clean you.”

And then his mouth captures mine again, our kisses so much deeper and more meaningful than any kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life. Is this what it feels like to be with the right person?

Is this what it feels like to start the path to . . . to loving someone?