Page 12 of Ryder

“I most certainly do not. Ryder, my phone. Now.” She ducks under my arm, but I grab her around the waist and hold her to my side, facing out.

“When was the last time someone spanked you, Claire?” I’m half in love with this woman already. If we continue to spar like this for the next sixty years, I’ll be a happy man. She’s going to marry me and carry my babies. I know it in my soul.

“When I was two, probably. I don’t remember it,” she shouts, squirming. Her breasts are pressing against my forearm, and I’m not inclined to ever let her go.

“Do you use that sassy mouth with everyone you know, or is it just for me?” I grip her tighter, her back flattened to my side, her fucking hot tits holding my attention. Perhaps it would be in my best interest to let her wrestle me for the phone. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take long for her cotton tank to get tugged to one side to give me a better look at her bra and cleavage.

“It’s for you, old man. You’re the only one who provokes me like this.” She shoves at my arm to no avail.

She’s breathing heavily, and her heart is racing against my forearm. It’s not from exertion. She’s aroused.

So am I. I tuck her phone in my back pocket, pull her in front of me, and use both hands to trap her back to my chest, her arms at her sides. I tuck my arms under her breasts again because I’m a guy. My cock is at full attention.

She fights me, but there’s no oomph behind her battle.

I set my lips on her ear. “Stop struggling, and I’ll let you go,” I whisper. It’s a challenge.

“Fuck you.”

“Tsk tsk. That’s three fucks in a row. Three swats to your sweet cheeks. You want to make it more?”

“You can’t spank me, Ryder. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Wanna bet? Keep using that dirty language and you won’t be able to sit for the rest of the day.”

Claire gasps. She licks her lips and squirms futilely. “In your dreams.”

Chapter6

Claire

My brain is totally scrambled. I can’t believe this man, who I just met, is holding me against my will and threatening to spank me.

Except, another part of me hopes he never lets me go and makes good on his promise. My face heats at the thought, and I’d never tell him what I’m thinking, but holy hell, this is hot.

I don’t have a ton of experience with men. I dated a few guys in high school, but the pickings were slim in Wilde. Everyone knows everything about everyone. My graduating class consisted of the same small group I went through every grade with. It’s hard to feel anything toward a boy you watched pick his nose in kindergarten.

After high school, I made the mistake of agreeing to go out with Smith Winston. He was three years older than me, so we didn’t have as much history. Like many of my peers, he stayed in town to help his father run the garage. Smith treated me nicely for a few months, but then he got handsy and started pressuring me to have sex. I never let that man into my pants, mainly because it turned me off that he seemed to feel entitled to fuck me. I broke things off with him over two years ago, but he acts like we’re still an item every time he gets a chance.

I shudder and shake any thoughts of Smith out of my head.

Ryder is not a boy. He’s twice my age. I still haven’t even asked him how old he is. I’m kind of afraid to.

I’ve never felt half what I feel standing here in the Wilde mansion’s kitchen in Ryder’s arms. My blood is pumping. My panties are soaked. My nipples are going to rip a hole in my bra and pop out.

I have no doubt Ryder has noticed the hard peaks, and I’m pretty sure he’s staring at them now. I kind of like that I affect him. I’m not even hiding the firm tips from his heated gaze. I’m actually glad I came straight here from the bakery without changing my clothes. I’m casual, and Ryder likes how I look.

I’m also playing with fire. I may have argued that I’m a grown adult several times, and I may be filled with piss and vinegar, but he has no idea how inexperienced I am. He’d probably toss me out on my ass if he knew.

I’m having the most exhilarating day of my life, and I’d like it to last a while longer before he finds out enough about me that he’s turned off, so I’m not going to tell him. It will happen. I have no doubt. But a girl can enjoy herself before reality sets in.

When I run out of steam and stop squirming so hard, Ryder does not relax his grip on me, but he does start stroking the undersides of my breasts with his thumbs. “Done cussing?”

“Not a fucking chance.” I’m on fire. I can’t think with him touching me. I want to turn around in his arms and pull my shirt off. I want him to touch me everywhere, and we just met. I’m not sure we even like each other.

“Tsk… That’s four swats. I’m so going to enjoy watching your ass turn red.”

My breath hitches. He says it like he intends to pull my jeans down right here in the kitchen. What if he does?

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