Page 90 of Ryker

“Turn around and face the corner,” I grumble. To my surprise, he does as I say. The elevator starts moving. He doesn’t budge. Not even when we’re back at my apartment, and I step out to grab my keys and purse. He doesn’t even move once I step back inside and hit the lobby button again.

He keeps his nose in the corner, back to me even when we’re dumped back out at the lobby.

“You can turn around now,” I say. Holy shit. I have no idea what this is, but… I like it.

Ryker turns around and smooths his suit jacket down. Then he lets me step out first and makes sure the door remains open for me as I do and grabs my arm to stop me from going out the main door.

I look down at his hand with the monarch tattoo. “Let me go, Ryker.”

“I don’t want to,” he says quietly. “Not now. Not tomorrow either.”

Oh look, my stupid heart has found fresh hope. Can’t wait to see how long it takes for this one to pop too. “I don’t understand you. And I’m not willing to play your games anymore.”

His grip remains on my arm, even if it’s loose. It’s both grounding and unsettling.

“I know I started it,” I confess. “I put you in a bad position with that building and used your interest in it as leverage to get me what I wanted. That’s my fault.”

“Making your stay with me miserable is mine.”

“It wasn’t miserable all the time.” Holy shit, why can’t my mouth stay shut?

“No?”

“No.” Look, if there’s any chance of fixing what we both busted, maybe I should try. He once said I was his obsession, but after the three days I’ve been away from him, I’m strong enough to admit I think he’s mine too.

We have chemistry. I just don’t know if it’s explosive and damaging, or precarious and precious. But there’s something between us I’ve never felt with anyone else. I want to explore it. I want to learn. Ryker could very well be the biggest mistake of my life, or the greatest chance I’ll ever take.

“I liked us together when you weren’t being a shithead.”

“Yeah.” He lets go of me and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a massive prick sometimes.”

“It’s good that you're self-aware.” I hate the torment in his gaze. “But it’s not sometimes. It’s most times. And I know it’s a mask, Ryker. I wear one too. Take it off for me, like I have for you.”

“If I do that…” His breath rattles out of him. “Will you please give me a chance to make things up to you?”

“Depends.” I cross my arms. If I give him another chance, it’ll be on my terms. “Are we going to trust each other with more than a flogger and dildo?”

“Yeah,” Ryker nods.

“Then tell me something about yourself. Something really fucking personal.”

“Right now?”

“Bye, Ryker.” I storm off and he grabs my waist to stop me again.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He spins me around to face him. “I’ve only had two girlfriends in my entire life. One when I was fifteen. And one when I was eighteen.”

“How old are you now?”

“Thirty-two.”

“How many lovers? Not clients, lovers.” I don’t give a shit about his stupid high school girlfriends or the people who’ve paid him for sex. I want to know how many women he’s brought to his bed. Not as an escort, but as a man who wanted pleasure and comfort.

The silence is suffocating.

“Six.” His face turns red. “I’ve had six.”

I’m not making Ryker say this to humiliate him. I just wanted something open and honest to come out of his mouth for once.

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