That’s a joke.
He’s joking, right?
I strangle out another cough, drawing Diana’s attention. “Are you okay? Who is it?”
“Yeah, fine,” I tell her, covering the mouthpiece. “Breathing is confusing sometimes.”
“Why are you so weird?” she sighs, and Mya snickers.
“I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
Before they can question me further, I shoot to my feet and escape to my bedroom. Once the door is firmly closed, I refocus my attention on my phone.
“Did you seriously just ask me to use you for sex?” I blurt out. My heart thuds against my ribs, palms growing damp.
“Earlier you said you wanted to use Beckett for sex. I’m offering an alternative.”
As always, his deep voice carries a mocking note.
And yet I know he’s being serious right now. I highly doubt Ryder calls girls out of the blue and extends bogus dirty offers.
This is legit.
“That’s…not how this works,” I finally manage to croak out. “Just because I wanted to get laid last weekend doesn’t mean I’ll fuck just anyone. Beckett and I shared an organic moment. I didn’t go to the party planning to have sex with him.”
“So you don’t have an itch that needs scratching anymore?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then you do still require naked stress-busting.” On a raspy chuckle, he throws my own asinine descriptor back at me.
“All I’m saying is, just because I need…”
“To get fucked,” he supplies.
My cheeks nearly burst into flames. I sit on the edge of my bed while my heart continues to hammer out a wild, frantic rhythm.
“…just because I need what I need,” I finish, “doesn’t mean I’m desperate.” I bristle to myself. “I’m not interested in pity sex.”
Husky laughter tickles my ear. “Gisele. Come on now.”
“What?” I gulp. My throat feels tight now.
“You think I’m throwing you a pity fuck?”
“You’re not?”
“No.” There’s a pause. “I need what I need too.” Another pause. “And I want it from you.”
My pussy clenches.
Hard.
His candor sends a dose of raw lust coursing through my blood. My knees are wobbling and I’m sitting down, for Pete’s sake.
I swallow again. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want to sleep together.”
“Sleep, no. But I think we should fuck.”
Every inch of my body feels hot and tight. It’s been a while since I felt desire this potent. I don’t think it’s ever been this strong. Not with Case. Certainly not with Beckett last weekend.
“You said you needed release. Someone to help you with the stress. I can help. We already have a good arrangement going here,” he points out. “So why not sweeten the deal?”
“I…”
My brain is close to short-circuiting. I want to laugh this off, tell him it’s an interesting idea but probably not a smart one. But the words won’t come out. Instead, I say something very stupid.
“I’m not sure I’m even attracted to you.”
Then I almost burst out in waves of hysterical laughter because what the hell am I even saying right now? Someone hijacked my voice and is making it spew nonsense.
Of course I’m attracted to him.
Ryder goes quiet for a second. Then he says, “All right. Hold on.”
There’s more silence, save for some rustling noises on his end followed by the unmistakable click of a camera.
When my phone buzzes from the incoming message, I stop breathing entirely.
I’m expecting a dick pic.
I get something even better.
His bare chest, impossibly broad with more muscles than I knew existed. He’s cut like stone. Abs galore. He wears a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, his thumb hooked under one corner, pulling them down even lower to provide a suggestive view of his obliques. I notice a jagged white scar on his hip, about an inch long, and wonder how he got it. I wonder what that raised, puckered skin would feel like scraping beneath my fingertips. What I’d find if I slipped my fingers under his waistband.
My mouth waters. The longer I look at the picture, the wetter I get. Everywhere.
“Well?”
The trace of amusement in his voice tells me he knows he got me speechless.
“What, no dick pic?” I say, playing it cool.
“I’ve actually never taken one of those.”
“Liar.”
“Never,” he insists.
“Why not?” I’m genuinely curious. I don’t think I’ve met a single guy my age who hasn’t sent someone a picture of his penis. Usually unsolicited.
“Why do I need to?” He sounds almost bored by the question. Until his voice turns smoky. “I’d rather see the look in a woman’s eyes when she sees it for the first time.”
“Why? Is it super spectacular?”
“Say yes to my offer and find out.”
I rub my palm over my scorching face. “Look. Prom king. You’re hot,” I acknowledge. “You know you are. But a ripped chest doesn’t tell me if there’s chemistry between us, only that you’re nice to look at.”
“You’re trying to tell me we don’t have chemistry.”
His soft chuckle makes my throat run dry.
“I don’t know. Maybe we don’t. We haven’t even kissed.” I don’t know why I’m fighting this so hard.
Well, I do know why.
Because the second I open this door, there’ll be no turning back.
And that…scares me.
“I’m not going to agree to a sex deal with someone I haven’t even kissed,” I say when he doesn’t respond.
“Okay. If that’s how you feel.”
Then he ends the call, and the only thing I feel is disbelief.
Did he seriously hang up on me?
I stare at my phone, which now displays my lock screen. He actually did.
Unless…maybe we got disconnected? I wait nearly a full minute for him to call back. But he doesn’t.
I’m in a daze when I return to the living room, where Diana and Mya are debating whether Fling or Forever is pure trash or pure genius.
Diana, obviously, is a proponent of Team Genius.
“You get to see young hot people have sex on camera while pretending to be there for the romantic dates. And then every week, a total stranger shows up and breaks up a couple against their will, and now the new couple is fucking on camera and pretending to care about the dates. Are you truly telling me this isn’t the best show ever made?”
“It’s brain cell–killing garbage. You’ll never convince me otherwise, girl.”
Diana grins at my return. “What, is game night not doing it for you anymore?”
“Who was on the phone?” Mya asks curiously.
“Luke Ryder.”
“Oooh, the enemy,” Diana says. “What did he want?”
I’m tempted to relate the entire conversation, word for word. But I’m barely able to make sense of it myself yet, let alone hash it out with my friends.