Page 57 of Ramsay

With a rush of dizziness, I push against Chance, who’s still leaning against me, but he just laughs, pressing me against the railing once more. Through the fog of terror licking at my spine, I can feel his dick pressing against my stomach.

My lungs close up, panic riding me so heavily it’s all I can do not to struggle and Chance, too high and drunk to pick up on my cues, leans into my shoulder and sniffs my neck. Shit. I can’t breathe. I’m going to puke.

Wrestling against him, I try to get him to back up, but he slumps against me and drops like dead weight. Helplessly, I grab him around the waist. Fuck, did he pass out?

With a grunt, I push him backward, but his tall frame is heavy against my slighter one. Still with each step, my breathing gets a little easier, although I’m jittery from adrenaline and riding a strange high.

Ha! I guess I didn’t need the drugs on offer, after all.

I’m a couple of steps from the couch when Ramsay finally reappears and grabs Chance around the waist, but I don't wait around for the denouement. Nope, I’m through the door and pressing the button for the elevator with desperation when Ramsay emerges with a scowl.

Glancing his way, I barely track him before pressing the button again, because I need to fucking go. Now. What the fuck is taking so long?

After another painful minute that feels like an eternity, I give up and search out the stairs, the thought of being trapped in the elevator horrifying, anyway.

My hand is on the door, pushing it open when Ramsey grabs my shoulder from behind and swings me around. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Let me go,” I whisper, pulling away roughly.

With a grunt, he lets me loose and I stumble back, dropping to the floor.

“Fucking crazy,” he chuffs in annoyance, before grabbing my arm.

The blow to my butt must have shaken something loose, and I draw myself up with a deep breath, allowing him to pull me into the elevator.

I’m still visibly shaking, and I suck in air that does nothing for my constricted lungs before backing into the corner and staring at the floor.

In my head, I count to ten over and over wishing for this fucking ride to end.

Ramsay steps into my vision, raising my chin, and with a frown he searches my gaze before grabbing my hair in his hand and tilting my head back. When I don’t react, just stare at him blindly, he nips my bottom lip and takes advantage of my shock to slide his tongue inside.

Everything but the feel of his mouth on mine, flies out the window, and I grip his arm, whimpering when he licks the roof of my mouth. He tightens his hold in my hair and wrenches it back, angling for a better position.

With a moan, I meet his ardor helplessly, arching into him when he wraps me up and fucks me deep. His tongue is so sinful my toes curl in my shoes, and I’m too caught up to hear the ding of the elevator, but he has no such issue and pulls back abruptly when the doors slide open.

Half dazed, I allow him to pull me from the car, through the doors and into the dark night, before pushing me into the SUV and climbing in beside me. As before, Oliver pulls away from the curb, and Diem glances back at me with an unreadable expression.

Shit. What the fuck just happened?

Ignoring them all, I turn my gaze to the window and finally take a full deep breath. I never want to enter a fucking penthouse apartment again and I’d like to focus on the fuck hot kiss from Ramsay, but it was over before I could genuinely enjoy it. Besides, I’m sure he’s going to ruin the experience by opening his fucking mouth anyway.

“You almost ruined everything. But I did appreciate the sacrifice, or maybe you enjoyed kissing Chance?” Ramsay says.

See? Dick.

“Hardly,” I mutter.

“What’s that?” he asks in an amused tone.

“I said, hardly. Rich dicks don’t know how to fucking kiss. They’re too worried about their fucking hair.”

There’s a minute of silence before Ramsay guffaws, and it's so startling even Diem’s head swings around to stare from the front seat. I watch bewildered as once again his granite features soften into true beauty, taking my breath away.

Turning away in defense of my heart, which is beating out of my chest, I stare out the window and pretend this fucking night, shit the whole day never happened.

But after a while, I start to track our surroundings and realize, instead of taking me home, we’re back at Ramsay’s. Fuck. What now?

“What’s going on?”

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