Page 90 of Hate To Love You

“Because…you’re the only woman who’s ever challenged me. You weren’t afraid of me; you didn’t run away. You never gave in to my demands, and you defied me at every turn,” he explains, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “You, are my little Rebel,” he leans in and leaves a soft kiss on my lips.

My heart pounds in my chest, and my lips purse as I try not to grin like a freaking idiot. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

He’s right. I’m not like other girls.

“I thought you hated that about me,” I say softly, my eyes searching his face.

He chuckles to himself. “I did, at first,” he tucks a hair behind my ear. “But then I realized something.”

“What?” I ask.

“It was sexy as fuck,” he grins, before leaning down and capturing my mouth with his.

When he pulls back, he has a mischievous look on his face.

“Do you have any ice cream?” he asks, and I swear I didn’t hear him right. Ice cream? Right now? I’m freaking naked. I thought he was about to fuck me and he’s asking about ice cream? He can’t be serious.

I blink a few times before replying.

“Um, I think so?”

Ryker doesn’t say anything before he hops off the bed and heads for the door, leaving me fully naked on the bed.

“Ryker, what are you doing?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows and staring at him in bewilderment.

“Getting the ice cream,” he says simply, as if this conversation isn’t completely out of nowhere.

I begin to sit up, but he holds a hand up to stop me.

“Stay. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind him, and I flop back onto the bed, extremely confused but a bit intrigued. I stare at the ceiling, my arms covering my bare chest as I wait, impatiently, for Ryker to return.

About two minutes later, Ryker strolls into the room with two bowls of ice cream and a shit eating grin on his face. God, for such a tough guy, he’s adorable.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks at me, setting the bowls on my nightstand.

“Mint chocolate chip, my favorite,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like bourbon.

My stomach flutters. “Mine too,” I tell him. “But can I get dressed before we eat it?”

Ryker’s eyes go dark, and I can see the desire building in them.

“Well,” he began, his voice husky, “I was thinking maybe we could find a use for the ice cream besides eating it.”

Before I can ask what he means, he takes a spoonful of the cold treat and blows on it suggestively, taking a long lick off the spoon. I’m still not exactly sure what he intends to do with the ice cream, but I’m ready to find out.

Chapter 43

Guinevere

Ryker’s been teasing me, and I can tell he enjoys seeing me squirm. I, however, am over it. I need him to touch me. I’m going to crazy if he takes any longer.

Ryker dips the spoon back into the ice cream, taking a big scoop, and bringing it to my mouth. I instinctively lick my lips as I take it in, tasting the sweet ice cream.

Without warning, he dips his fingers into the bowl and scoops up a generous amount of the cold, creamy dessert. My eyes widen in surprise as he traces a path of the ice cream down my chest, stopping to circle my nipples.

My breath hitches at the cold sensation, and my breathing becomes rapid. What is he doing?

---