“Do you want to be my sweet boy?” Her fingers tease as they dance across my skin. “Do you want to know what it feels like to be claimed?”
I nod, words failing me as I watch her strip out of her T-shirt. She’s so goddamn beautiful.
“Speak, Ryan,” she says, shimmying out of her leggings and kicking them aside. She stands in front of me wholly naked, wholly mine. “Tell me what you want from me.”
I meet her eyes, losing myself in the forest greens and golds. “I want you to fuck me,” I reply. “Tess, please, baby. Show me I’m yours.”
59
Ryan kneels in front of me naked, his heart in his hands, giving me all his vulnerability. “Fuck me,” he says again. “I want you to do it. I want to be yours in all ways. I trust you. Tess, I love you—”
I silence his words with my mouth. Holding his face, I bend down and take what I need, kissing him with everything I have. I just spent one of the worst days of my life sneaking around trying to find a way to get out of the house without making a tearful goodbye. I was packing to leave. Troy had won. I would never do a thing to hurt Ryan. If that means I let him go, that’s what I was ready to do.
But Ryan is right. He deserves for me to be strong. He deserves for me to stop running, stop hiding from a man I left in all but name over three years ago. Troy can bring on the rain. He can drown me for all I care. I’m a good swimmer. And with Ryan holding my hand, I’ve already found a safer shore.
As usual, Ryan holds nothing back, kissing me with all his pent-up passion and need. He’s ravenous, devouring my kisses, his hands roving my naked body. I’ve never felt more loved than when this man’s hands are on me. He’s so gentle, even as he takes what he wants. He guides me to my pleasure every time, joyfully claiming his own. I’m safe in his arms, wild and free. He brings out the best in me.
“I love you,” I say against his mouth. “Ryan, I love you.”
“Thank fucking God,” he groans, his teeth nipping my bottom lip as he stands. Our angle changes, and now he’s pressing in, our warm flesh fitting perfectly together. “I love you too,” he says against my lips. “I’ve been dying to say it for days. I looked for you at my game. I wanted you there so badly. I wanted to tell you with my jersey on your back.”
I lean away, breaking our kiss. “Your jersey?”
He nods, biting his bottom lip in that adorable way he does when he’s nervous. “Yeah, I uhh…left you that stuff earlier,” he says, pointing to the nightstand.
I glance over my shoulder, my heart twisting in a little knot. I meant to open it before the game, but then I got the box from Troy, and it felt too painful to know what sweet, thoughtful thing Ryan left for me. “What is it?” I say.
“Tickets to the game,” he replies. “A parking pass and a WAG room pass.”
“What’s the other thing?”
His hands give my hips a little push. “Open it.”
Turning away from him, I pad on bare feet over to the side table, pretty sure I already know what this will be. I unwrap the tissue paper and hold up a Rays home game jersey. It’s a pretty aqua blue with thick black, white, and brick red stripes on the sleeves and along the bottom. The stingray logo rests large on the front, a few brand logos stitched to the chest, including a patch for the Winter Classic. A number 20 is stitched on both shoulders. I flip it around to see the big number 20 on the back, framed above by his name: Langley.
“Is this your actual jersey?” I say over my shoulder. “Like, the one you wear during the game?”
He nods.
I turn around, holding it up to my frame, my hand smoothing over the fabric. “Am I even allowed to have this?”
He laughs, flicking my hair off my shoulder and replacing it with his warm lips. “Yeah, I wore that one during the Winter Classic.”
My blood goes cold, my fingers holding tight to the jersey. “You wore it when you hurt your knee.”
“I wore it when I was looking for you,” he corrects.
“What?”
He steps in, the jersey pinned between us. “You were so in my head already,” he admits, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I had a split moment on the ice when I looked up through the glass, and I swear to God I thought I saw you standing there.”
“Me?”
He nods. “Yeah, you were watching me, cheering for me, and I thought my heart was gonna burst. I wanted it to be you…which means I didn’t see the hit coming.” He leans in, placing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Baby, I never saw you coming,” he whispers against my lips. “This is yours now,” he adds, his hand closing around the fabric. “No one can wear this but you.”