Page 85 of Forgotten Pieces

“Yeah well there was a line. Took some time.”

Ryder looks at the few people waiting for the ladies’ room. “Okay. Well, Mac took Laney home. She fell off her stool and Trace said it was time to leave.”

“Did he kick us out too?”

“Nah, just Laney.”

“Well, if my best friend is gone I am gonna head out too.” I walk to the bar and flag down Trace to pay my tab. I turn around to head out the side door when I trip over a chair.

“Got you,” Ryder says as he grabs my elbow. “I’ll walk you home.”

“I live upstairs.”

“I know. I’ll walk you up there.”

I am feeling well past tipsy at this point so I don’t even have the urge to push him away. I let him walk me to the side door. We make it to the staircase when he suddenly pushes me against the building, his lips smashing against mine. I am once again surprised by his kiss but this time I can’t fight it. I don’t want to fight it. I want him more than anything despite him being the one person I can’t have even if he says we can be together.

I groan as his lips make their way up and down my neck. I grip his hair as I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands help me by gripping my ass, squeezing my butt, pulling me tightly to his crotch. I can feel his hard length and I let myself grind against him.

“Fuck,” he moans into my neck as he pulls me away from the wall.

He starts to carry me up the stairs and I lose all inhibitions. We barely make it through the door before I am pulling his shirt off. He sets me on the side table next to the door and does the same to me. His hands go for my bra and within seconds it’s joining my shirt on the floor. His mouth moves down to my full, heavy breasts. He sucks each nipple into his mouth back and forth, playing with them the way I want him to play between my legs. He is turning me on so much I can barely take it. The need to feel every inch of him overpowering my self-control.

My hands move to his waist and I quickly undo his zipper. I grab on to him, the weight of his hard dick, heavy in my hands. He growls as I pull on him, stroking his hard cock up and down. He lifts me off the table and makes quick work of my jeans, pulling them hard down my ass. He spins me around and presses my chest into the table. Within seconds he plunges into me, stretching me. He is so large, it’s almost painful. He holds me down by the neck as he pounds into me. The pleasure is unbearable as I let him fully control every movement. I groan as he groans. I grip the table harder as he grips my hips harder. I shake uncontrollably as my body reaches its climax. He slams into me one more time before collapsing on top of me.

I turn my head to look at him and he looks regretful.

He immediately jumps back from me and grabs his shirt off the floor before tucking his junk back into his pants. “I’m so sorry, Tacoma.”

And then he is flying out my door slamming it hard behind him.

I grab my jeans from around my ankles and pull them off. I pick my shirt and bra up off the ground. I walk to my bedroom and lay down on the bed, the tears flowing before my head even touches the pillow. I thought this was what he wanted. I thought he wanted me. He was willing to give up everything for us to be together. I don’t understand what went wrong.What did I do wrong?

I soak my pillow as I cry myself to sleep. The rawness in my chest aching almost as bad as it did on the day he left.

The next morning I can still feel him between my legs, a soreness I should hate but it feels so right. I don’t want that to be our first and last time, our only time. I was ready to tell him before we all got shitfaced that I was willing to try. That we could finally have what we both wanted. But I was scared.

I never thought our first time would be like that. A raging passion of torn clothing and quick hands. I’m sure he didn’t either. And maybe that’s all it was. Maybe he was upset with himself, regretting the fact we mauled each other in the entryway to my apartment.

Last night my alcohol fueled brain thought it was me. But maybe this is all on him. And if he forced me to talk to him the other day, I sure as hell am going to force him to talk to me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ryder

I sit at the kitchen island staring into my coffee mug, contemplating if I should pour whiskey into it. I can’t believe I fucked Tacoma last night. I didn’t even express how I felt to her, I just bent her over and forced myself on her. Then, like the coward I am, I ran. I slept in my car until I felt okay enough to drive, then got home and crashed in my bed.

The sheets still smelled like her. I didn’t let myself wash them after that night. I could barely sleep as I wrapped my arms around the pillow filled with her vanilla and cherry scent. I moved my way to the couch and still couldn’t get her out of my head. Her soft skin against my hands, the little moans she made as I grabbed a hold of her like I would never let go, the taste of her sweet body as I ran my tongue along her neck.

Fuck. I am getting hard just thinking about her.

I need a dose of reality. I need something to knock me out of this high.

I meant it when I said I was willing to give up everything for her. But if she can’t commit, then neither can I.

I pick my phone up off the counter. My thumb hovers over Shelley’s name. If I call her will that set my mind straight? Will that allow me to focus on the woman I should be thinking about? Hell, she should be here.

But I don’t miss her. I realize that now. I feel less tense without her around badgering me about my condition. I feel more relaxed with every moment I spend with Tacoma even if they are intense moments.

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