“Oh my god,” I moan, my body suddenly losing air like a popped balloon. I fizzle, all energy leaving me, as I collapse against the bench. Tess turns off my plug, and it’s like flipping a switch. Lights out. I’m dead. Done.
She reaches across my lap for the red remote that I don’t even remember setting down. She takes control of her own orgasm, clicking it up and working her clit. “Watch me,” she pants, her breasts jiggling in the most seductive way as she fucks herself. “Ryan, watch—”
As if I can look at anything else? I watch my queen take her pleasure, riding out her climax, her sweet moans filling the small room. Her skin is flushed, her head tipped back, body glistening as she makes herself come. It’s fucking breathtaking. She finishes, turning the toy off and dropping both remotes. They clatter to the floor at our feet. Then she slumps forward, catching herself with one hand, her forehead dropping to my shoulder.
“How was that?” she says after a moment.
“So fucking good,” I reply. “I’m officially a convert to butt plugs.”
“I knew you’d like it.” I don’t need to see her face to know she’s wearing her sleepy smile.
“I’m still not convinced about the sauna,” I admit.
She just keeps smiling, turning her face to peck my chest with a kiss.
I manage to lift a hand, digging it into the hair at her nape. I tip her head back, kissing her lips, not caring that she tastes like me. In fact, I think it turns me the fuck on. She’s mine and I’m hers. Nothing we could ever share could be bad or wrong. I want to taste like her, smell like her. Bring on all the coconutty hair oils and strawberry lip gloss.
“Am I corrupting you, Ryan?” she says. “Should we stop while we’re ahead?”
“You’re a she-devil,” I say against her lips. “My goddess.” I give her a kiss. “My queen. You fucking own me.” I kiss her again. “Do anything, take anything. It’s yours.”
“Hmm,” she says on a sigh, kissing me back. “As much as I love the idea of taking you for everything you have, I’m starving.” As if in evidence, her stomach lets out a low grumble, and we both laugh. “Why don’t I order us a pizza while you go get cleaned up?”
She kisses the tip of my nose, and then she’s moving away, as if her bones weren’t just liquified by the most intense orgasm of her life. Perhaps I need to try harder next time.
Towel under her arm, she glances over her shoulder at me. “You coming?”
“I don’t think I can get up,” I admit. I’m not even sure I remember how legs work.
She laughs again, crossing back over to me and holding out a hand. “Come on, sweet puppy. We really gotta work on your off-ice stamina. Give me a few weeks to toughen you up, and I’ll have you coming like that all night long.”
A few weeks? This woman can have more than that. She can have months. Years. Hell, if she’ll only give us a real chance, a chance to be more than just friends, I’ll be her sweet puppy for the rest of my fucking life.
38
I spend the whole of Thursday morning running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Between helping Joey set up for a volunteer clean-up event over at the beach and playing phone tag with two city council reps, I somehow manage to bake two dozen of my famous triple chocolate chunk oatmeal cookies.
Apparently Shelby O’Sullivan is hosting a huge birthday party tonight, and I promised Rachel I would make an appearance. All the Rays will be there, which should make for a wild and crazy night. I’m hoping Shelby will accept my cookies as a peace offering.
Her party has a “favorite fictional character” theme, and I’ve been putting together an outfit all week. Is it funny and on theme? Yes. Will I look hot? Double yes. Is Ryan going to lose his freaking mind? Obviously, my entire point.
The doorbell rings just as I’m putting the finishing touch on my lipstick.
“Shit.” I glance at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing my sexy devil costume, complete with red leather skirt, lacy bustier top, black fishnets, and little black horns peeking out the top of my head. My makeup looks flawless—a dramatic smoky eye and cherry red lips.
Tossing my lipstick down with a soft laugh, I saunter off towards the front door. Whoever it is better be ready for a bit of a jump scare. I peek out through the fogged glass of the front door and see a mail truck driver hop back in his truck and drive off.
Opening the door, I glance down. A smallish box is perched in the center of the welcome mat. I pick it up and read the label and my heart stops.