Page 51 of The Christmas You Crash

“Shit, baby.” Ryder’s uninjured hand tangles in my hair as I take him deep into my mouth and swirl my tongue around him. He doesn’t push me down his cock, doesn’t control my movements; he simply needs the connection. I’m still very much in control of his pleasure.

I’ve never particularly loved giving head. With every other guy I’ve been with, it felt like something I had to do. They’d godown on me and I’d go down on them. I always enjoyed making them feel good but derived no pleasure of my own from the act.

With Ryder, I do.

Despite having just come on his face, new arousal floods my core as I savor Ryder’s reactions. As I enjoy the salty flavor of him. There’s something heady about making this sweet giant of a man fall apart. It makes me feel powerful.

The fingers of one hand dig into the globes of Ryder’s ass while I work the base of his shaft with the other. I stroke and tease him with my wet palm as I lick and suck his length. With every bob of my head, I bring him deeper until I’m fighting my gag reflex.

He hisses when his cock nudges the back of my throat.

Well, damn. I never knew I could take a guy this deep. His raspy praise spurs me on, and I ignore the growing ache in my jaw. I want to make him fall apart.

“Lexi,” Ryder says through panted breaths. “I’m gonna come, baby.”

Looking up at him, I try to grin around his cock but can’t quite manage it. I suck him harder. It’s sweet that he’s warning me. I always appreciate a man who gives me fair warning before he comes, so I can decide if I want to continue working him with my mouth, or if I want to switch to my hands. With Ryder?

I have no intention of pulling away.

“Shit,” he says, his hips bucking slightly as he loses himself to the sensation rippling through his body. “God, Lexi, I’m gonna come.”

In response, I take him all the way to the back of my throat and hum my encouragement. His fingers grip my hair tighter as his body goes rigid and hot cum spurts down the back of my throat. I work to swallow it all, but some dribbles out the corner of my mouth. Ryder watches, entranced, as I lick my lipsand wipe his cum from my chin. The intensity of his gaze sends pleasant shivers running up and down my spine.

“That was...” Ryder runs his hand over his face. “That was...I mean, damn, Lexi.”

Strong hands grip me beneath my arms and lift me to my feet. Ryder tugs me toward him, pressing our naked bodies together. He studies my face as his palms glide up my back and over my shoulder until he cups my cheek with one hand. And then he kisses me.

There’s somuchin the kiss. I’m not sure I want to dissect it. I’m not sure I’mreadyto dissect it. His words echo in my mind as he owns my mouth.

You’re so damned beautiful and ridiculous and a little crazy, and I’m kinda worried no woman will ever live up to you again.

What I don’t tell him is that my fears mirror his own. Who knows if what we have could withstand the real world and our real lives, or if we’re just enjoying the fragile, temporary high offered by our little bubble? Who knows if Ryder would stay this sweet and attentive and affectionate? None of that matters. From this day forward, he will be the man all others have to measure up to. He’ll be the unspoken standard by which all future relationships will be judged.

I’m more than a little worried no one will ever come close.

And when Ryder squirts body wash into his hand and slowly, worshipfully washes every speck of flour and grime off me, I wonder if my plans to keep him at arm’s length are worth it. Because these aren’t the actions of a man hoping to use me for his own gains. These aren’t the actions of a guy who just wants to get laid before he happily walks away without looking back.

Would it be so bad to give this a shot and see where it goes?

Ryder’s touches are so gentle and hypnotic that my mind is able to wander. Unfortunately, it wanders to a memory of my dad’s reaction when Garrett broke up with me.

“Alexis? Why are you crying?”

We hadn’t been close in years, but when Dad had looked at me with concern and actually asked, I let out a little sob and told him the whole story. How Garrett wanted to play hockey. How he’d tried to get close to my dad through me for a chance at an in. How he’d broken up with me when it was clear that was never going to happen.

“I always liked that boy, but he never had what it takes to make it in the NHL.”

And that had been it. He gave me a quick hug before telling me he needed to get to the arena for practice. NoI’m so sorry, honey.OrWhat an asshole. I can’t believe he hurt my little girl like that. I’ll kick his ass.Just an observation that he’d always liked the fake jerk who’d used me for two years and a no-nonsense assessment of his lack of skills.

Ryder isn’t Garrett. I know this. Despite dating me for two years, Garrett never did anything like this. He never rubbed his fingers through my wet hair and washed the long strands. He never peppered kisses across my shoulders and murmured sweet nothings about how beautiful I was. But that means that Ryder would also have the power to hurt me in a way Garrett couldn’t. And if my dad’s reaction was lackluster when Garrett broke up with me, I hate to even imagine how he might react when Ryder does.

Ryder, who he likes. Ryder, who he’s clearly taken under his wing. Hell, he called Ryder to check on him and wish him a Merry Christmas, while my phone hasn’t so much as buzzed with a text message or a stupid Christmas GIF.

Still, do I really want to give my dad any power over who I date? If we give this a try, then break up, who cares what he’d have to say about it? And where Garrett used me to get to my dad, Ryder doesn’t need to. He already has his attention. If he thought charming me would get him a bigger in with my father,I’m sure he’s realized by now that my dad doesn’t care enough about me for that to succeed.

“Tip your head back,” Ryder says softly. His large hand cups the back of my head, supporting me as I lean into the warm spray. He uses his other hand to help rinse the suds away. It’s sweet and incredibly intimate, and I don’t know how to hold him at arm’s length after today.

He woke up before the sun to decorate the cabin. He made me breakfast. He ate me out like it was his favorite pastime, and now he’s washing my hair and body as though I’m precious.

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