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The Right Move (Windy City, #2)(59)

Author:Liz Tomforde

“Good God.” I throw my head back. “Book boyfriend material.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Just agree with me.”

Partway towards the exit we connect with Zanders, Maddison, and his wife. And all the way down the hall, in front of the exit, Ryan waits with my jacket slung over his shoulder and my heels dangling in his hand.

I wish I could take a picture and keep it forever, because he looks absolutely stunning with the slight neon glow of the exit sign illuminating above him. He helps me put my coat back on, delicately pulling my hair from the collar. Eyeing the heels in his hand, we silently and mutually agree that there’s no way in hell they’re going back on.

I’m completely sober, but I refuse to stuff my feet back in stilettos at this time of night.

The blacked-out SUV pulls up to the curb outside and without a moment of hesitation, Ryan scoops me up with one hand, my legs wrapping around his hips. I hold on to his neck to keep steady while he carries both me and my shoes to the car.

Leaving the third row to Zanders and Stevie, Maddison and his wife as well as Ryan and me pile into the middle. There are only three seats for four of us, so as soon as Ryan closes his door behind him, he pulls me onto his lap. Maddison’s wife is hauled into his, leaving the center seat empty.

“There’s room for you now, Indy,” Maddison says before distracting himself with the red-haired beauty he’s married to.

The engine starts and as we take off down the road, I move to slip off Ryan. But instead, one large hand grips my hip, keeping me in place.

“Don’t,” he grounds out in my ear.

The rest of the car is too distracted to notice I have yet to move, so I settle back into his chest. His palm slides over my thigh, and as I lean back, I turn to face him, finding hooded eyes and parted lips.

He’s turned on and goddamn so am I. This entire night has felt like foreplay.

I glide a hand around the back of his neck as he ever so slightly rocks my hips against him, pulling the softest, almost silent whimper from us both. His lips are centimeters from my own, and no part of me cares that others are in this car to see.

“I just want everyone to know,” Zanders announces from the backseat. “I joined the mile high club today.”

The car erupts with drunken laughter and congratulations.

“Dear God,” Ryan mutters for no one else to hear, shaking his head. “That’s one way to kill an erection.”

I giggle, leaning back into him.

“He got down on one knee, so I got on two,” Stevie cuts in with a casual shrug.

“That’s my girl!” I exclaim.

“Sir.” Ryan leans forward to the driver. “I’m going to jump out real quick so if you could pick up speed that’d be great.”

I give him a playful swat in the chest before he leans back into his seat, pulling me with him.

“That was a good pickup line, Vee.”

“Thank you.” She pops a shoulder. “I’ve been waiting all year to use it.”

“Do you have any pickup lines?” I quietly ask Ryan for no one else to hear.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather pin you down than pick you up.”

My mouth gapes because that wasn’t cheesy at all. Not with the confidence in which he delivered it. Holy hell.

His laughs from my blatant shock.

“You have an early morning tomorrow?” he whispers.

“Yeah, and a long day.”

He exhales a deep sigh before placing a soft kiss on the top of my shoulder, leaving his chin to rest there. “Okay.”

By the time we make it home, I understand what that “okay” meant.

He’s not going to try anything. He’s going to let me sleep.

What he might not understand is that due to the hours of foreplay and only a single orgasm in eight months, there won’t be any sleeping for me tonight. At least, not unless something happens.

He closes and locks the apartment door behind him, leaving my shoes by the entryway. We shed our coats, hyperaware of the other’s proximity, standing in tension-filled silence.

“So, I um…” He tosses his thumb towards his bedroom. “Good night.”

He hesitates in the entryway for a moment, and like the coward I am, I stay silent.

Head down, he takes a step in that direction.

“Ryan,” I interject, halting him. “My dress. Will you unzip me?”

He takes his time moving the zipper down my body, as if knowing this is the end of our night and wanting to make it last. His breath lingers on the back of my neck, his fingers skim the spine of my back, and my body is ignited with goosebumps once I realize his proximity.

With the back of my dress hanging open, Ryan curves his palms around my hips, fingertips digging in. “There you go.”

He doesn’t leave, doesn’t move until I stay silent for far too long.

What am I doing? Why am I hesitating? If I’m being completely honest with myself, as much as I openly talk about sex, I haven’t been properly touched since Alex and that scares me. Getting naked, being at your most vulnerable with another person, can be terrifying, but I’m tired of Alex being my last and only. He doesn’t deserve the title of the last man to have that part of me.

“Ry.” I stop him at his door. He looks back to me, eyes desperate and begging. “Will you help me?”

His head falls back, exhaling a sigh of relief. “Fucking finally.”

22

RYAN

In two quick strides I have her pinned against the wall, legs slung over my hips, and the straps of her pretty red dress falling over the slopes of her shoulders. Chests pressed together, I can feel her thumping heart as I work my mouth over the length of her neck. I kiss and lick the delicate skin, feeling a soft whimper work its way up her throat and against my lips.

Moving south, I brush my wet mouth against her collarbone as her chest becomes pink and flush. Her nipples are perfect little peaks, showing through her bra, and lifting the red satin away from her body. God, I want to put them in my mouth and suck and bite, maybe see if I can make her come from that alone.

Because tonight is all about her. She’s going to come harder than she’s ever come in her life.

I’m unbelievably hard from the lead up of our night. Fuck, the lead up of the last couple of months, but the fact I’m going to make Indy come until she can’t see straight doesn’t change the promise I made to myself. I can do this. I can touch her and lick her and make her scream all without fucking her.

“Ryan,” Indy pants. “My room. Take me to my room.”

She moves, grinding her pussy over my erection and with her dress bunched up around her hips, there’s only a couple of layers of fabric between us. I hiss an inhale from the friction, precum already leaking from the tip because well, I haven’t been touched in years. I haven’t been touched in years and now I have the most gorgeous woman, who’s incredibly smart and caring, in my arms, her pussy seeking my cock with every rock of her hips. She’s hot already, and I could bet good money that she’s wet too.

I turn towards her room, but I can’t do it. I avoid that place at all costs, and it sure as hell won’t be the first place I make her come tonight.

Instead, I carry her to the couch, dropping her on her back, my mouth still latched to her neck, ear, chest. Anywhere I can taste her other than her mouth.

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