Chapter 2

Chapter Two

RYLAND

I’m uncomfortable.

And the moment the bartender hands me my drink, I down it in one large gulp, the alcohol stinging all the way down my throat. When I set the glass down and turn toward Abel, I find him holding his drink halfway to his mouth, staring at me with a bewildered look.

“Do that again, and I’m not sure you’re going to get it up to even have some fun.”

I grab a napkin and wipe my mouth.

“Can you keep your fucking voice down?” I whisper.

“Sorry,” he whispers back. “Didn’t know you were so shy.”

“I’m not shy. I just . . . I don’t need people hearing my business.”

“You don’t want people knowing about the possible chance of a flaccid penis tonight?” he says in a controlled, low voice.

My eyes narrow at my friend. “There will be no flaccid penis.”

“Ah, so we’re expecting a full erection. How exciting.”

“Jesus fuck,” I mumble as I press my palm to my eye, trying to rub away the migraine that’s forming from his idiotic plan.

I don’t even know why I followed Abel here.

Pretty sure it wasn’t me that followed and more like my dick that did the walking.

Because fuck, it’s been a while.

A really long time and now that I’m already a few drinks in, I told Aubree I wasn’t driving home tonight because I don’t drink and drive, meaning she can take care of Mac while I can . . . well, I guess I have two choices. I can find someone to hook up with and get Abel off my case while simultaneously solving the issue of my pent-up tension. Or I can go home with Abel tonight, sleep on his couch, and regret going out the following morning.

“You look distressed. Should I get you another drink if you promise to drink it slowly?” Abel asks.

“Sure, and while you’re at it, can you order me a new friend as well?”

He presses his hand to his chest. “You know, when you say things like that, it really hurts.”

I roll my eyes just as there’s a tap on my shoulder.

I turn on my barstool and come face to face with a woman.

Not just any woman though . . . the woman who I immediately saw when we walked into the bar.

Platinum-blond hair, freckles splattered across her nose, and rosy cheeks . . . and now that I’m seeing her up close, the prettiest pair of eyes I’ve ever fucking seen. One blue and one green, both highlighted by mascara-coated eyelashes.

Jesus.

Not to mention . . . curves.

From what I can see, amazing curves.

“You know, it’s rude to sit next to someone and not introduce yourself,” she says with a confidence I’m jealous of.

From under the bar counter, I feel Abel kick my leg, encouraging me to turn.

So I do.

“Sorry, I didn’t intend to be rude.”

“What did you intend, then?” she asks as she leans one elbow against the bar counter and rests her head against her hand.

Jesus, she’s so hot.

Swallowing and attempting to find my cool, I say, “Find a place for my friend to sit because he has fragile legs.”

She grins. “Well, in that case, I should praise you for being a good friend.”

Abel slides my drink in front of me and pats me on the back. Then I feel him leave, just like that. He’s not even going to feel out the situation with me. That means I’ll never hear the end of it if this doesn’t go the way he’s planning.

I take my drink in my hand but don’t sip it, not yet.

“I like to think that I am.”

“Well, now that your friend seems to have rested his legs and is sneaking out of the bar, do you care to introduce yourself?”

I hold out my hand. “I’m Ryland.”

“Ryland, nice to meet you.” She takes my hand in hers, her tiny fingers wrapping around my large ones. “I’m Gabby.”

When she lets go, she sips from her drink, only for her eyes to return to mine when she lowers her glass back to the bar.

“Gabby, it’s nice to meet you as well.” Feeling all kinds of nervous, I take a quick sip of my drink. “Are you in Almond Bay visiting anyone? Just move here?”

“No, actually,” she answers confidently. “I was in town for business.”

“Business?” I say. “What do you do?”

Her eyes glance to the side before a slow smile spreads across her lips. “I work for a travel company. I go around from small town to small town and scope out the scene, trying to find the latest and greatest nugget to write about.”

“Wow, that’s really interesting. I’m assuming you travel a lot.”

She nods. “Yup, all over the country.”

“How does Almond Bay rank? Did you find a nugget?”

“I did,” she says as she lowers her hand to my thigh.

Fuck . . .

Okay. So she’s interested. That’s all I need to know to push forward.

I scoot a little closer so she doesn’t have to reach as far. “Think you would come back again?”

“I plan on coming . . . back, for sure.” She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, and I’m fucking mesmerized just watching it.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Sadly, yes,” she says as her thumb rubs against my thigh.

“That is sad.” I try not to gulp in front of her from the way her hand on my thigh feels.

Like I said, it’s been a really fucking long time for me.

“I didn’t get to accomplish everything I wanted to while being here.”

“No?” I ask. “What didn’t you accomplish?”

“Well, you see, I’m staying at Five Six Seven Eight, the inn.”

“Yup,” I say, quite aware of the inn.

“And well, one of my responsibilities is to test everything out, including the bed.” I gulp. I can’t hold it back. It happens.

“Oh, uh . . . well, can’t you test it out tonight when you sleep?”

Her hands float up to my chest as she moves in closer. “I don’t like to test it just for sleep . . . Ryland.”

Christ.

I see where this is going, so before she can say it, I cut in. “Do you need help testing it?”

An earth-shattering smirk crosses her lips. “I’d love to have you help me test it.” And then just like that, she slides off her barstool and steps between my legs. “Want to go now?”

Hell, that was quick.

So quick that it almost feels too easy.

Like I’m missing something.

But I like the promise in her gaze because, fuck, I need this.

I lift my glass, keeping my eyes on her, and swig the rest of my drink for courage before setting it down. “I do,” I answer.

“Good. But first, I need to make sure you’re worth it.”

And before I can ask her what she means, she slides her hand behind my neck and pulls me close. I have about one second to wet my lips before she presses her mouth to mine and kisses me.

The moment our lips meet, I feel a bolt of electricity fly through me, kicking up a part of me that I’ve stuffed away for what feels like so long. A dead, hollowed-out piece of me. A piece of me that’s been broken, hurt, and damaged beyond recovery, yet with her lips on mine, it almost feels like it’s healing. And that part of me breaks down a wall, allowing me to wrap my hand around her waist, pull her in even closer, and tilt her mouth up, giving us a better angle. I swipe my tongue across her lip, looking for access, and when she parts her lips, I take that as a sign and slide my tongue against hers.

She leans into me, using my chest to steady herself, and as her kiss grows deeper, she moans against my tongue.

Jesus, I need this.

So fucking bad.

I didn’t know how much I needed this until she started kissing me.

But this . . . this is a drug, a high, something I can find myself becoming easily addicted to. She tastes like alcohol and promises. She kisses like it’s her last. She grips me like she’s holding on to me for safety.

I’m intoxicated.

I need more.

So much fucking more.

She lifts away, her beautiful fucking eyes blinking a few times as she stares back at me. She almost seems . . . stunned as well.

I feel the same way, so I step off my barstool, take her hand in mine, and say, “Let’s get out of here.”

“What room?” I ask as we head up the back stairs of the inn. The last thing I wanted was to run into Ethel, the owner, because Lord fucking knows, word would get around town that I was fucking somebody at the Five Six Seven Eight. That’s the last thing I need.

“Room at the end of the hallway on the left,” Gabby says as I lead the way, her hand in mine.

We haven’t said anything since we left the bar, not one single word. Not that we need to. I think we both know where this is headed. Both of us are buzzing. Desperate.

She pulls out her key when we reach her room, and I unlock the door. After pushing me through the threshold, she shuts the door behind us. When I turn to face her, her eyes roam my body right before she reaches for the hem of her blouse and pulls it up and over her head, revealing her ample breasts in a black lace bra.

Christ.

I reach over my head, tug on my shirt, and pull it off before dropping it to the floor.

And I let her fucking feast.

Those hungry eyes wash over my body, taking in every contour, every muscle, every inch of sinew I’ve built over time.

“Fuck,” she murmurs right before she pulls me into her, causing me to press one hand against the door behind us and the other to her waist. Her hands fly up my chest, over my pecs to my neck where she grips me tightly and brings my mouth back to hers.

I fall into her embrace, into the way her mouth works mine. I’m desperate to hear her sounds to fill this unsatisfied need rolling through me.

As my mouth works hers, our tongues colliding, I drag my fingers up her side, just below her breast. She moans softly, brings her hand to mine, and lifts it to her breast, where she pulls down the cup of her bra. A surge of lust bursts through me as I take her heavy breast in my hand and drag my thumb over her hard nipple.

Her leg wraps around mine, and I take that moment to lower my hand that’s propped up against the door and smooth it up and under her ass, only to lift her with one arm and press her against the door.

She groans into my mouth as her center presses against my rock-hard cock.

“Fuck, you’re big,” she says as she wiggles against me.

“Can you handle me?” I ask as I bring my lips down her jaw to her neck.

“That’s not the question you should be asking,” she says as she tilts her head to the side.

“What should I be asking?”

“You should be asking it the other way around . . . if you can handle me.”

She takes that moment to release herself from my waist and drops down in front of me. Eye level with the fly over my zipper, she undoes my jeans, then yanks them down, along with my briefs, freeing my erection right in front of her.

I don’t even have time to fucking gasp before her tongue swirls around the tip of my cock.

“Mother . . . fucker,” I say as I brace my hand against the door in front of me. My other hand goes to her face, where I tilt it up just enough so I can see her eyes and her mouth work over my cock.

It feels so fucking good.

Too fucking good.

Like this is all some sort of fever dream.

She bobs her mouth over my length, sucking as she moves down, sucking even harder as she moves back up. Her grip at the base is fucking tight, and as she continues to suck and tease and do fucking good things, I can feel my body climb, my orgasm driving my need to go deeper. There’s no way I’ll fucking last if she keeps doing this.

No goddamn way.

So I say, “On your feet, Gabby.”

She pulls her mouth away from my cock just long enough to say, “What?”

“On your feet.”

Taking her hand, I help her up before shucking out of my shoes, socks, jeans, and briefs. Then I walk her over to her bed, feeling her eyes on me the entire time.

“I want you naked.”

Her eyes light up as she reaches for the waist of her jeans and undoes them. She pushes them down to the floor along with her shoes and then stands there in a matching lingerie set, looking so goddamn hot that I can feel my balls tighten from the sight of her.

She pushes me on the bed so I’m sitting up with my feet firmly planted on the ground. Then she turns around and takes a seat on my lap, her thong-covered ass rubbing right up against my cock.

She anchors herself by placing her hand behind my neck and starts rocking over me.

“Jesus,” I whisper as I push her hair to the side and start pressing kisses along her neck and behind her ear.

She moans as I grab her waist, my fingers pressing into her skin.

Indenting.

Making my mark.

“Touch me,” she says as she spreads her legs. “Feel how wet I am, Ryland.”

Experiencing another surge of desire, I drag my hand across her stomach, to the waistband of her thong, and slide two fingers under the delicate fabric and right between her legs.

I let one finger dip along her slit, and when I’m met with her arousal, I groan into her ear.

“Fuck, Gabby, you’re ready for me.”

“So ready,” she says softly as I press my fingers to her clit, causing her legs to spread more.

“You want me here?” I ask, slowly stroking the sensitive nub.

“Badly,” she says.

“Well, I want to fucking taste you.” I swipe my tongue along my fingers.

I’m met with a fucking glorious taste, a taste I haven’t experienced in far too long, and it does something to me.

Turns me into a goddamn animal because before I can stop myself, I pick her up and flip her to her back on the mattress.

“Need more,” I say as I tear her thong off her body. Then I eye her bra and notice the front clasp. I quickly pop it open and let my eyes feast. “You’re so fucking hot.”

So goddamn hot.

She has curves, the kind of curves that I can grip on to and get lost in. With thicker hips, fuller breasts, and strong thighs, she’s a goddamn dream—everything that turns me on.

Everything that makes me hard as fuck.

I hover above her and lower my head to her breasts, where I grip one and pull her nipple right into my mouth.

“Yes,” she cries out as her hand filters through my hair. “Oh my God, yes, Ryland.”

I fucking love it when a girl is responsive to her breasts being played with . . . especially their nipples. I’ve always been a tit man, obsessed with making a woman beg with need from playing with the hard pebbled nubs—sucking on them, plucking at them, and rolling them between my fingers.

And Gabby is no exception.

Her tits are sexy as fuck.

Round, more than a handful, with responsive nipples that seem to beg to be played with, so I bring the pebbled nub into my mouth and suck . . . hard.

I nibble.

I lick.

I suck again and again.

She writhes beneath me, her pelvis seeking out release by thrusting up into me. I let go of her breast and press my hand to her pelvis, keeping her still.

“My time,” I say as I kiss my way across to her other breast. “I will do this on my fucking time.”

Then I work her other nipple, causing her to moan.

To grunt in desperation.

To beg for more.

Her reaction fuels me to play with her longer, to edge her, because she’s so responsive.

She’s so soft.

So fucking warm.

And she smells amazing.

Tastes amazing.

Fuck, why have I waited so long to enjoy this?

I lap at her nipple, loving how her fingers thread through my hair and tug on the strands. Her heels dig into my back as they wrap around me. Her pelvis lifts, barely grazing my cock. It’s just enough that a fire ignites within me, reminding me there is so much fucking more to do with her.

So I kiss between her breasts, down her stomach, and lower myself between her legs.

Without hesitation, she spreads and then pulls her knees toward her chest.

Jesus Christ.

I fucking love that.

Not a shy bone in her body.

I take in her bare, wet pussy, and with two fingers, I spread her before lowering my mouth. I press a kiss right to her arousal, and she sucks in a harsh breath before I languidly run my tongue along her slit. It’s slow and methodic, letting the flat of my tongue do all the work.

“Oh fuck . . .” she groans as her tense body melts into the mattress. “Yes, Ryland.”

The sound of my name coming from her husky voice makes me feel like a fucking king.

I bring my other hand to her pussy, and with two fingers, I press inside her while I continue to lap at her arousal.

“Yes . . . oh my God, yes. Play with me, Ryland. Fucking play with me.”

Jesus.

Sweat breaks over my back from her pleas.

I want to make this woman come. Multiple times. I want her writhing, screaming my name, and waking every goddamn person in this inn.

I want her coming on my face.

On my cock.

I want to see how much I can make this woman lose her goddamn mind.

So I run the tip of my tongue over her clit and watch as her eyes fly wide open, her jaw dropping in shock, a silent gasp barely passing her lips.

That’s what I fucking want.

And more of it.

As I swipe at her clit, I add my fingers with every stroke. Scooping up inside her and playing with her G-spot, letting her see that I can please her in multiple ways.

And it seems to be working as her fists curl around the sheets beneath her and her chest heaves in anticipation of her orgasm.

Her nipples are hard, red from when I was playing with them.

The new beard burn across her chest marks her as mine for the night.

And the expression on her face, like she’s about to meet fucking God.

It’s everything I need at this moment as I move my tongue faster and stroke her with my fingers, picking up the pace and thrusting in and out of her over and over again.

“Yes . . . yes . . . fuck . . . please . . .” she cries out, her neck muscles tightening.

Her legs start to clamp around my head.

“Ryland . . . oh God. Ahhh, fuck!” She screams right before I feel her walls tighten, and she’s coming all over my goddamn face. She uses my tongue as her personal fuck toy, rocking against it and searching out every last ounce of her orgasm until she’s wiped.

“Oh my God,” she whispers as she lowers her legs and catches her breath.

I take that moment to go back to my pants, grab my wallet, and fish out a condom that Abel slipped in there before we got to the bar. I thought he was an idiot when he did it. Now, I’m a grateful motherfucker.

As I move back toward the bed, her gorgeous, heady eyes watch me the entire time, so I give her a show.

I tear the condom wrapper open with my teeth as I stare down at her, holding my cock with one hand at the base. I watch her eyes take me all in, her tongue wetting her lips as she stares at my length.

She’s still hungry.

She still wants more.

Thank fuck.

I sheathe myself and then move closer to the bed.

“On your stomach,” I say to her.

With a smirk, she flips around to her stomach, scoots toward the edge of the bed, then props her ass in the air.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

I run my hand over the globe of her ass, loving how thick her backside is. A fucking handful to grab on to is just what I love. I bring my cock up to her entrance and slowly start to enter her.

“Oh . . . yes,” she says as I move in farther, having a hard goddamn time taking it slow because Jesus, this feels amazing.

She feels incredible.

Warm and perfect, wrapped around me, pulling me in.

“Christ, this cunt,” I say as I push in deeper. “So good. So fucking good.”

I run my hand up her back, and when I reach her shoulder blades, I push down on her, angling her even more so when I bottom out, I’m at such a delicious angle that it feels like she’s tugging on my cock.

“You’re so big,” she says as I rock into her. “God, I can feel every inch of you.”

“Good,” I grumble as I thrust my hips down into her, the angle everything I fucking need. “Take this cock, Gabby. Make me come.”

“Spank me,” she says, surprising me so much that I pause my thrusts.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Positive,” she says.

So I lift my hand and then slap her ass, the sound of it echoing through the room, followed by the most delicious moan I’ve ever heard.

I stare down at her ass, the red mark of my handprint painted across her fair skin.

The sight of it? Only one of the most addictive images in my head.

Because that’s me, marking her.

That’s my handprint.

Claiming her.

“Again,” she begs.

But what she doesn’t know is that she doesn’t have to beg. No, my mouth is watering for more. So I spank her again, a touch harder this time, and motherfucker, it makes her tighten around my cock, nearly making my eyes roll in the back of my head.

“Fuck,” I mumble as I take a breath. I’ll come really fucking fast if she keeps doing that.

“Again, Ryland,” she says, breathless.

I swallow, trying to gain control over the feelings pulsing through me.

“Again,” she begs. “Please. I . . . I’m close.”

Jesus Christ, this woman.

Grinding down on my teeth, I spank her again, and she contracts around my cock, squeezing me so goddamn tight.

“Fuck, Gabby . . . you’re . . . you’re going to make me come.”

“Good. Now spank me harder.”

Never in my goddamn life . . .

I lift my hand and spank the other cheek, leaving my handprint. Once again, she moans and contracts. So the next time I do it, I pulse inside her, causing her moans to grow louder and louder.

It makes me lose all control.

I snap, and before I know it, I’m spanking and thrusting. She’s calling out my name, and I’m growling, seeking out my orgasm. Both of us go wild. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the air.

She cries out.

I groan.

She clenches.

I thrust harder, bottoming out every goddamn time.

And it’s so fucking good.

So fucking perfect.

So goddamn delicious that my balls tighten. In one quick burst, my cock swells, and I’m coming at the same time she does.

The room around me fades to black. I can hear her screaming out in pleasure, but it almost sounds muddled because of the roar of my own orgasm.

It is easily the most intense orgasm of my life.

As we both catch our breaths, I remove myself from her and flop on the bed, where I take a few seconds to let the life flow back into my body.

I stare at the ceiling as I feel her shift off the bed and go straight to the bathroom.

Christ . . . now that’s a fucking one-night stand.