Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I don’t think we make a very good team.”
His head swivels so fast in my direction, I fear it might fall off his neck. “What do you mean?”
“Surely, this is the least productive you’ve ever been during a recording session.”
“Not by a long shot. But, uh, yeah, sex usually isn’t the reason for delays. Wait here.”
Sure. I’ll just wait with his sweats around my ankles, my dick hanging out, and cum everywhere. No problem. Not awkward at all.
Okay, it’s too awkward.
I bend down and at least drag the pants up my legs.
Ryder returns with a box of tissues.
We clean up the best we can, and Ryder zips up his jeans.
The whole thing happened so fast, I never got a good look at the cock I’ve been fantasizing about.
I’d like to say I’ll take advantage of that another time, but I don’t know if I will.
I await the inevitable oops and let’s forget it, but neither come.
Nope. It seems this time we’re skipping to the it never happened part.
Probably because last time nothing actually happened. We can’t claim that this time.
“Think you can concentrate now?”
“Is that what we’re chalking this up to?” I reluctantly ask. “Getting off to make me concentrate better? Because I gotta tell you, if smelling like your cologne was throwing me off, don’t even get me started on smelling like your cum.”
Ryder cracks a smile and finally looks at me. “Be a good boy and get these two songs recorded, and maybe I’ll let you have more.”
I try to hide my surprise but fail. I’m pretty sure my eyebrows live in my hairline now.
Ryder sighs. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I’d be naïve and stupid to believe I could resist you. I already tried that, and I’ve lasted how many days?”
“I don’t know, but it’s felt like a billion.”
He snorts. “Exactly. We could keep playing this game where we try to stay away from each other. We can pretend we’re not attracted to each other, or …”
I step closer to him. “Or?”
His finger trails down my neck, rubbing over the spot he sucked on, and I don’t need a mirror to know there’s a red, angry, claiming mark there. “Or we let this happen.”
I want to ask what this is, but maybe we need to take this in baby steps. “I thought you didn’t date.”
In a flash, his touch is gone. “I don’t.”
I think I have my answer. “Oh. O-okay. Then this would be what exactly?”
“I … I don’t know. I put my whole dating life on hold after Kaylee. Which means no sleepovers. And it’s not like I can find someone who’s willing to be in a relationship like that. Which is why Cash and I happened in the first place. He didn’t want a relationship. Just sex.”
“So, you’re not going to have a relationship until she’s, what, eighteen?”
“No. Maybe?” He runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“Look, I understand the Kaylee thing to a degree. I understand not wanting to tell her anything, especially when we don’t know what this actually is. We agreed not to go there, and now we have. But it doesn’t feel like this was only about getting off. It’s been building for a while.”
“It has,” Ryder says. “Stay the night?”
“Stay?”
He nods. “I want to see if I can do it. I want to see if it will work. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for tonight, I want to see if it’s even possible to be something more. And then tomorrow, when Kaylee comes home, I can try to figure out how we could all fit together.”
His hesitance is unnerving to say the least. But what’s the alternative? I walk away? That’s not gonna happen.
“Let’s play it by ear,” I say.
Ryder’s face lights up, and even though this is risking a lot—my job, my demo, and my heart—I think it’s a risk worth taking.
Because when Ryder kisses me, everything makes sense.
I don’t know how, only that it does.
Ryder’s promise of more to come if I manage to get my two songs recorded has the rest of the afternoon flying by.
Maybe getting off together is what we needed to do to be productive, because despite smelling like him and wearing the cum-stained evidence, when dinner rolls around, we’ve got two finished and polished songs on my demo. Ryder wants at least one more song, possibly two, but we’re done for tonight.
When I walk out of the booth, a sense of accomplishment washes over me and makes me smile. It widens when I throw myself into the seat beside Ryder and he leans over to kiss my cheek.
I cock an eyebrow at him, but he shrugs.
“Testing it out.”
“And?”
“And I hope I can keep doing it.”
I know what he’s promised me isn’t much, and the thought of this trial date—or whatever tonight is—not working out churns my stomach. But stepping back and pretending something isn’t going on between us won’t work. We’ll end up here again. I’m sure of it.