Page 50 of The Christmas You Crash

"Stunning," I say. "You're the most stunning woman I've ever seen."

A breath puffs out of her. "Oh, please. I'm sure you've had models and actresses throw themselves at you."

My fingers skim down her sides. She shivers, and it makes me even harder. She's so responsive. She wants me as much asI want her. "I don't care about models or actresses," I tell her honestly.

"You have so many after you that you're desensitized to it now, huh?" She's teasing, but I'd be blind not to see the insecurities shining out of her eyes. Which is ridiculous. Hasn't she looked in the mirror lately? Doesn't she see herself?

Stepping closer, I thread my injured hand through her hair at the base of her skull and pull her toward me. Leaning down so my nose almost touches hers, I wait until she meets my gaze to speak. "No, baby. I don't care about models or actresses, because they're fake. They look at me and see someone who could help their image. Someone whose presence could grow their social media followers and land them more attention."

Not all of those women are bad. Most of them are upfront about what they hope to get out of a potential relationship with me or the other guys on my team. But I've spent the last four years alone, and there's nothing worse than being in a relationship and still being alone. I want something real. Something deep. Something that makes my heart race and my palms sweat.

Something like the way I feel when I'm with Lexi.

"The thing is, Alexis, I haven't been interested in a woman in over a year. I haven't even entertained the idea of dating. Then you come along with your towel and wineglass projectiles and accusations of being a hired killer." I apply the slightest bit of pressure and tug her head back. It brings my lips to within millimeters of each hers. "And 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."

Her breath fans over my lips. Her voice wavers as she simply says, "Oh."

Grinning, I allow my attention to fall to those lips. "Yeah. Oh. See, the problem is that, now that I know no one else willever measure up, I'm afraid I'm not so sure about this snow-pass thing."

Lexi's eyelids flutter. "Ryder, I?—"

"I know," I say, silencing her. "You think this can't go anywhere. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to agree." I rub my nose along hers. "Doesn't mean I won't try to change your mind."

She opens her mouth to protest, but I steal her breath with a desperate kiss. I don't want to hear the reasons this can't work. I don't want her excuses. I know what I'm up against, but I've beaten worse odds. And, after losing both of my parents way too young, I've learned that we're never guaranteed tomorrow. So, if something's important to me—if I really want something—I shoot my shot. Because you may only get one.

When I break our kiss, it's to drag her panties down her legs before taking her hand and leading her into the hot spray of the shower. "All I'm asking for is a chance, Lexi. Let me prove I'm not like your ex. Let me show you how much I want you."

And with that, I sit her down on one of the stone benches and drop to my knees.

twenty-five

LEXI

Ryder is a god of oral.

My whole body quakes as I ride out my orgasm. I’m slumped on the built-in bench in the shower, and only his arm banded across my belly keeps me from melting onto the floor like an ice cream cone in summer. Watching him eat me out has been an experience. And when he looks up at me with his chin covered in my arousal, I nearly come again.

“Delicious,” he purrs, wiping away my juices with one finger, which he then sucks clean. Leaning forward, he kisses me deeply, offering me a taste of myself. “Sweeter than the sugar cookies we made.”

God.He’ssweeter than the sugar cookies we made.

When my body is ready to cooperate, and I’m no longer a boneless sack of pleasure, I decide it’s my turn to drop to my knees. I haven’t wrapped my mouth around Ryder Hanson’s very impressive cock yet, and I refuse to get through this week without the pleasure. This is my only chance, after all.

“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he says as he drags his knuckles gently across my cheekbone and down across my lips. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

Looking up at him, I blink away the spray of the shower. “And you did. So,sogood. But I’ve been fantasizing about sucking your dick for days now. Do you really want to spoil my fun?”

Ryder chuckles. His hard cock bobs as his upper body shakes. I can’t resist. My fingers wrap around the velvety length, and I start to explore. Slowly, I map every ridge and vein and note when Ryder hisses or groans with pleasure, or when his hips buck involuntarily. His attention stays on my face. Even when he grabs the shower wall for support, he still keeps his eyes open and watchful.

When I lean in and lick the drop of pre-cum off the head, his lashes flutter, but he stays strong.

I take it as a personal challenge.

Giving him another long lick as I trace the ridges of his crown with the tip of my tongue, I hum happily. He stares at me, enraptured, and I gaze back at him through the fringe of my lashes. “I can’t wait to swallow your cum.”

Ryder chokes on air at my sultry words, but I just grin and take him into my mouth. He’s big and thick, and I know my jaw is going to ache by the time I make him explode. But I’ve always enjoyed a challenge, so I focus on what’s in front of me.

A very large, very hard dick.

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