Page 58 of Ryker

Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m asking permission to answer my own fucking cell phone.

“Yes.”

I quickly snag it. “How’s Paris?”

“Dreadful,” my mom says. “I came back early because I was bored.”

Biting my lip, I refrain from saying what I want. My mom and I grew up poor and she somehow snagged one of the richest men on the planet—well, at least my stepfather acts like he is—and ever since, my mother’s taken the rags to riches concept to a whole new dramatic level.

“Did you meet any friends there?”

“Everyone’s on holiday that I’d want to see. The weather was awful. It rained most of the time.”

“How was fashion week?”

“Dreadful. The styles this season are atrocious.”

Oh my god, I can’t even. My mother used to buy her clothes at Wal-Mart and thought Macy’s was for fancy people. Now look at her. Pretentious as fuck.

Ryker’s hands slide between my thighs, and he spreads my legs. My body automatically melts against his chest, giving him easier access to the rest of me. Look, I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I’m not missing an opportunity to receive pleasure. I’ve been starved of it for most of my life and my time with him is finite. I’ll take all I can, please and thank you.

“Maybe look at the new…” I suck in a harsh breath when he shoves a finger inside my pussy. “The new Dior line.”

“Mmm.” My mother sighs. “I’m tired of them too.”

He plunges a second finger inside me. “Um. Well.” I grind myself against his palm, seeking friction for my clit. He nips my earlobe with his teeth, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of lightning to my pussy.

“Want to meet for lunch, sweetie?”

“I c-…” oh my god, this feels so good. “I can’t today. Let’s stick with brunch on Sunday.”

“About that. William wants us to have it at home.”

My thighs slam shut immediately, and I pitch forward. “Why? What’s happened?”

“I think he just misses us all being together.”

Lies. We never do family things.

“Your father’s been working himself to the bone lately.”

“Step.”

“Tara. Don’t start. You know he hates it when you call him your stepfather.”

But that’s exactly what he is. “Okay. Then I’ll see you two on Sunday.”

“Garret’s coming as well.”

I should have known. “Great!” I fake my excitement. Ryker’s still as a statue behind me, but I can feel his hard on against my ass. “Sorry, but I have to get going. My next meeting’s about to start.”

“Okay, sweetie, love y—”

I hang up immediately.

Shit. We only have family meals when someone’s in trouble. I’m pretty sure that someone is me.

What am I going to do?