22. Let It Ride

Nadia

Iwas sitting on a stool at the kitchen bar when Riggs came through the door.

I didn't move but watched as he locked the storm door, closed the main one, locked it, then turned to me.

"Ledger?" he asked.

"He's up in bed," I told him. "I've checked three times. He was edgy, trying to read, but the last time I went up, he was out. I took the book out of his hand and turned out the light. I hope that was right."

"It was right," he replied and walked to the kitchen.

I spun on the stool to follow his progress.

He went to the fridge and got a beer. He opened it. He took a long pull from it.

Then he came to the bar on the other side of me, not catching my eyes, which I found alarming, and put the beer on the counter without uncurling his fingers from around it.

He pulled his phone out and ran his thumb over the screen.

Then he put it to his ear.

"Yeah, it's me." Pause, then, "I know it's late. Shut up and listen." Another pause, then, "If you ever, ever, Angelica, threaten me again with taking my boy away from me, you won't see him again. Listen closely because I. Am not. Fucking with you. You might not see Viggo either. That's Storm's call. But he's gonna know the shit you pulled on him because I'm gonna pay him a visit." Pause then, "Woman, you don't start to play this right after getting it so fucking wrong, and find you fucked with the wrong men, that is not on me. Consequences."

He then disconnected, tossed the phone on the bar and put the beer to his lips.

He drank a good third of it before he put it to the counter again.

Finally, he looked at me.

"You didn't have to wait up."

"Yes, I did."

"It's late."

"Really, Riggs?" I asked gently.

He dipped his chin, then let the beer go, and I rotated on my stool again, further this time, as he rounded the bar twice, once on each end, and disappeared into the stairwell.

I sat there for a long time not knowing what to do.

So long, I thought he probably went to bed.

Maybe he was embarrassed. By what I saw. By my being there when he learned it. By me hearing him talk to his son's mother that way (in a way she deserved, but he didn't give me the opportunity to share my opinion).

Maybe he was still feeling so much, he needed to keep processing it (though, he'd been out in the woods for four hours, but what he just learned after what had happened earlier that day was a lot, truthfully, just learning the most recent stuff would be a lot).

So I got up and went to the bank of switches that operated Riggs's plethora of outside lights and flipped all five of them (he'd been out there, it got late, I was worried, it was dark as all hell, so I needed to light his way home).

I was down in the living room, turning off the lamps when he came back.

"He's out," he confirmed.

Right.

Of course.

He was checking on his son.

And, I noted, taking off his damp boots.

He went right to his beer.

I turned out the last lamp down in the living room, then climbed the steps back to the kitchen.

I didn't take a stool.

I stopped at the end of the bar, close to him, and asked quietly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not sure guys categorize this shit like women do. But I took time to think about it, and I wouldn't say Bubbles was my best bud. That'd go to Harry, in town. But actually, Murphy, who I met in third grade, and we were tight from the minute we met. I was his best man at his wedding. He was in the hospital the entire time I was in with Angelica when she had Ledger. He moved to Oakland a few years ago. It sucks he's gone. Still, I'd put Rus before Bubbles, even if I've only known Rus a few months, because Rus is a solid guy, and he would never put me in a position where I had to go against everything I never wanted to be to take his back. And Bubbles is a mess."

I wasn't entirely sure why he was telling me this, outside the obvious of Bubbles being foremost in his mind for a variety of reasons that day, but still, I said, "Okay."

"He threw Ledger in my face today. Bubbles did."

I pressed my lips together.

"Said I knocked someone up, got a great kid out of it. I thought he was just talking about what he thought was my good luck, when he thinks his is bad, because he has to think that way or he'd have to admit he's a mess. But now I'm not sure. Now I think he got some sick thrill outta putting me where I was back then with Angelica. Which was not a good place."

"I don't know him, so I can't say," I replied carefully when he stopped talking.

He took a pull from his beer, then said, "Well I do know him, and I heard his shit today, so I can say. I think he wanted to watch me stumble. I think he was hoping I would fall. I think he's so twisted with jealousy, he wanted to take a piece out of me. And then he brings over a bottle of Jack, like he's my good friend, looking out for me."

I couldn't imagine someone I considered a friend doing something like that to me.

"That is really messed up," I agreed.

"Yeah, so when he said that shit today, it was about him being pissed that I got Ledge out of it. I got the best thing life ever gave me, and that wasn't his intention."

It did sound like his ex-friend Bubbles did that.

"Damn, Riggs, I don't know what to say."

"Nothing to say." He took another drink from his beer. "He's a piece of shit. And that's what dogs me in my life. I get wound up with pieces of shit."

"You were just being a good friend. You're a nice guy, Riggs."

"Yeah."

He didn't sound like he thought that was a good thing.

"I have to ask, it seems pretty clear it's true, but considering you're you and I can't imagine it's easy to pull one over on you, did Bubbles actually get your wallet?"

"Thought it was weird but had my mind on other things seeing as Angelica was all over me, though I remember clear that night, one of Bubbles's waitresses handed me back my wallet that I ‘lost.' Never done that shit before, or since, and when I checked, nothing was taken from it. What I know is, Bubbles could pickpocket a pickpocket."

Damn.

"So, while you were out, all you thought about was Bubbles?" I probed as kindly as I could.

"Nope," he said, popping the p, which would be the only mildly cute thing I'd ever seen Riggs do, if he didn't do it because he was hurt and angry. "I gave lots of thought to what a piece of shit my baby momma is too."

I reached out and covered his hand on the counter with mine.

"But I can excise Bubbles," he said. "Her, I gotta deal with for the rest of my life."

"Do you think she listened to you? What you said on the phone, I mean."

"Oh yeah. She listened to me. She's shitting her pants, she's so freaked."

"It's not mine to say, you didn't ask, but so you know, I believe she should be. I've been teaching for ten years. I've known hundreds of parents, and you're a good dad, Riggs." I wrapped my fingers around his hand and squeezed. "A really good dad. I've known fathers who live in the same house as their kids all the time, and they're less engaged than you are with Ledger."

Some of the tension seemed to ebb from his broad shoulders before he said, "Honey, I know. I don't question that."

"I'm glad."

"And don't worry about Angelica. I've never seen her like that, at least not since things smoothed out, but it wasn't about me. It was about Ledger. She's a female Bubbles in a way. She's more scared of you than she is of me because she knows her strengths, and her weaknesses. She loves her kids, but she's competitive, and again, she knows her weaknesses."

"Ledger seemed pretty excited to see her."

"He loves his mom. But Angelica had a problem with Kate. Mom, she doesn't see as competition. She can't steal one of Mom's boyfriends or whatever it is that makes her feel like she's come out on top. But she hated Kate. Tried to make a move on Kate's man kind of hate. It pissed him off and made him sick to his stomach, and he told Kate immediately. That was fun times."

Yuck.

"God, Riggs, this is awful."

He drank the rest of his beer, then looked right at me. "I think you get I like to have a good time."

"Yes," I said, because I sure got that.

"I've never put anyone on Ledger's pick-up list, but Mom, Kate, and now, you."

"Okay."

"I've had women. A lot of them."

"Okay," I repeated.

"But I've never done that."

I squeezed his hand. "I know. We're friends, right? Like you said. But I get it, even though she didn't give you the chance to explain it. You had to do it because things have been a bit topsy-turvy lately."

"Topsy-turvy," he whispered, staring at my mouth.

And he kept staring at my mouth.

Um…

He was staring at my mouth.

And since he was, I couldn't stop my eyes from dropping to stare at his.

He had a beautiful mouth.

Was this…?

Were we…?

He turned his hand so we were palm to palm and curled his fingers around mine.

We were.

Weren't we?

I thought of the way he held me while we were in his dining room, looking at the lake.

The way he twirled my hair in his fingers last night.

The semi-argument we had on the ride home from Hutch's about who was going to pay for Gia (she cost thousands of dollars, and I was loaded! and we left that on what I considered a temporary stalemate, but I believed Riggs thought he won).

None of that said we were just friends.

We weren't just friends.

I moved around the bar, got close, and when he turned his head and looked down at me, all that had happened with him, all he'd done for me, all he was becoming to me, and just how beautiful he was, washed over me.

I rocked up to my toes, pressed into him…and kissed him.

His mouth was hard, and soft, and very closed.

And he didn't move.

Oh shit.

I popped back, letting his hand go, and saying fast, "God, I'm sorry. That was wrong. I shouldn't have violated your person like that. I read the situation…I was thinking…" I shook my head. "That was just all wrong. You're in no state, I didn't mean to take advantage. We're friends and?—"

"Nadia."

My name in his mouth whipped at me like a lash.

My body jolted at his tone, my stomach sank, my heart pulsed, and I whispered, "What?"

"It's time to go to bed."

I nodded frantically. "Right, right, you're right."

"I'm gonna follow you up the stairs…"

I went still.

"…and it's your decision which way you turn at the top of them."

I quit breathing.

"But so you go in knowing what you're getting into, you turn left, honey, it's on."

"It's…on?" I pushed out.

"That's all you're gonna get, princess. You spin the wheel with me, you let it ride."

I feared hyperventilation.

"Go to bed," he ordered.

I felt my pussy contract.

"Now, honey," he demanded.

I hustled around the counter.

I swallowed back a scream when the kitchen light went out, and I was plunged into darkness in the stairwell.

I put my hand to the wall and slowly wound my way up, the grooves in the wood paneling ebbing and flowing under my hand, a caress I felt through my fingers slink over my whole body, like Riggs, through his house, was touching me.

I knew when he entered the stairs, and I knew he was climbing when I got to the top.

But I stopped.

He stopped behind me, one step down. I couldn't feel him, but I could feel his heat.

It felt amazing.

And his breath on my neck.

That felt even better.

Then I sensed him get closer, my hair was swept away, the bristles of the whiskers on his chin grazing my skin, and his breath was on my neck.

I shivered.

"Not fair," I whispered.

"Who said I play fair?" he whispered against my skin.

The wheel was turning.

I was either in for a fun ride that I'd eventually get thrown off.

Or the ride of my life.

With Riggs, the first was probably a better bet than the last.

I thought of the way he held me while we were in his dining room, looking at the lake.

The way he twirled my hair in his fingers last night.

The semi-argument about Gia we had on the drive home from Hutch's.

I'd played it safe and fallen in love with a wonderful man who was dying.

I'd lived a good life from my birth of abundance and privilege with good people who utterly adored me and showed it, but there were only two of them, and they were both dead.

Now, I was on my own.

I didn't have Dedulya to turn to for advice.

I didn't have Mom to talk things through with me.

The rest of my life, it was all me.

Just me.

Fuck it.

I turned left.

Riggs fingers closed on my hips instantly. He crowded me and shuffled me the short way down the dark hall to his stairs.

I felt a thrill whoosh through my belly like I was on the downslope of a roller coaster.

It was spectacular.

Come what may, feeling that, I knew one thing.

I'd made the right choice.

I stumbled when we made it to his stairwell because I couldn't see.

He knew his house, so he lifted me up, guided the way, and halfway up, he turned us, so he was up, I was down. His mouth landed on mine, his tongue spiked inside. I moaned at the feel of it, getting it after I'd longed for it what seemed like ages, experienced the heady taste of beer and Riggs, and it was good he dragged me the rest of the way up, because my legs had stopped functioning.

He let me go at the top, and I opened my eyes to being able to see due to the moonlight flooding his room, and then my arms were up, and I was blind again because my sweater was being pulled over my head.

My hair tumbled down while I watched Riggs's sweater go off.

The moonlight shaded the muscles of his chest, arms and shoulders. My legs trembled. His hands went back to my hips, and he hustled me to bed.

I fell back, he fell on top of me, and he was right.

It was on.

There was a lot of kissing—a lot—but I had that body to explore, the one I'd wanted my hands on since the first time I saw him run into my yard, slick with sweat.

And I explored it.

That was, I did until he undid the button of my jeans, slid the zip down, and dove right inside.

He didn't mess around.

He glided a finger over my clit, through my wet, and buried it inside me.

My head shot back.

Riggs put his lips to my throat and growled as his finger stroked aggressively.

I didn't hesitate.

This was my ride, and I rode it.

His lips went up the side of my neck, he nipped my earlobe and whispered, "Yeah, honey."

"Riggs," I panted.

"I hear you," he murmured, and his finger went away, as did his entire hand, so, clearly, he didn't hear me correctly.

Then my jeans and panties were whisked away with a fierce tug, and okay, maybe he did hear me.

I went after the buttons on his jeans as he reached for a condom.

I got the last button undone and yanked them over his hips, Riggs helping by bucking them up powerfully.

Just that nearly sent me over the edge.

Lord, have mercy.

His cock sprang out, and from what I could tell in the dark, I liked it, very much, and he immediately rolled a condom on one-handed and expertly.

Not expert enough. I nearly slapped his hand away so I could do it.

But finally, it was done, and he reached for me, but he didn't have to reach.

I threw a leg over, grabbed hold of him, guided him where he needed to be, and bore down.

"Shit, Nadia," he groaned.

Taking all that was him, I moaned.

Sensory proof, he had a great cock.

I bounced. And bounced. And bounced.

He clasped his hands behind his head, I saw the white flash of his teeth through the moonlit shadows, and he teased, "Tell me if you need me."

But his deep voice was sexy thick.

I dropped my torso to his and hissed in his face, "Stop it, Riggs."

I then gasped in delight as he spun us so I was on my back, he was on top, managing to do this without his cock losing purchase inside me.

Wow.

He fisted a hand in my hair, tossed one of my legs around his ass, hauled the other one bent and up, tucking it tight to his side, and he put his lips to mine.

"Let's get busy," he growled.

"Oh yes," I breathed.

He slanted his head and kissed me.

And then we got very, very, very, amazingly, magnificently, gloriously, ridiculously, dizzyingly, earth-shatteringly busy.