Page 28 of Ryder

That’s when I remember I was supposed to call Ryder when I got home. Shoot. There are several messages from him.

Hey, Claire. Did you get home okay?

Claire…it’s late. You should have been home by now. Please call me.

Baby…I’m getting nervous picturing you in a ditch on the side of the road. If you don’t call me in the next ten minutes, I’m going to drive to town and look for your car. You didn’t even tell me where you live.

Shit. I look at the time of the last text. Luckily, it was seven minutes ago. I quickly call him.

“Claire?” he answers.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. When I got home, I sat down to talk to my parents for a while, then I took a shower and dropped into bed. I haven’t had a chance to call you yet.”

He blows out a long breath. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.”

I kind of like that he was worried about me. No one besides my parents has ever worried about me. “I’m really sorry. You can add a tally to my naughty jar,” I joke, hoping to ease the tension.

He laughs. “Your naughty jar is already so full; it runneth over.”

“Good thing there’s nothing physical inside it. It’s a pretend jar filled with pretend infractions.”

“Oh, Claire, baby, the infractions are not pretend. At some point in the near future, I’m going to spank your bottom so hard you’re going to end up dancing around wincing and unable to sit.”

I bite my lip. Why does that turn me on? I’m so confused. If Smith said something like that to me, I would knee him in the balls. And I did. Coming from Ryder, it sounds like a sexy promise instead of a punishment.

“You were supposed to FaceTime me, baby. I want to see your room.” His voice is softer now.

“You can’t now. It’s dark, and I’m already under the covers. I don’t have the energy to give you a tour.”

“What a shame. What are you wearing?”

I suck in a breath. “Uhh…”

“Don’t lie to me. Tell me.”

“A white tank top and white cotton panties.” I probably should’ve lied. I should’ve said I had on a black lace negligee and nothing else. I’m way too boring.

Ryder groans as though that was the answer I gave him. “Do you have any idea how badly I want to see you like that?”

“In a tank top and boring cotton panties?”

He growls. It’s a sexy sound that makes my nipples hard. “Claire…for some reason, that’s what I want to see you in. It’s real. It’s you. I’ll buy you all the lingerie you want, but I’m far more interested in seeing the tight tank top and panties. I bet your breasts look heavenly under the thin cotton. I bet your nipples are poking through the front, your dusky areolas obvious. I bet your panties are soaking up your arousal and resting uncomfortably wet against your pussy.”

None of that was true until he said it out loud. Now, I’m so horny I might self-combust.

He doesn’t stop. “I want to suck those nipples through your shirt, leaving a wet spot that makes them look even sexier. I could suck your pussy through the crotch of your panties, too. Would you like that?”

I can’t breathe. I certainly can’t answer.

“Baby…?”

“Mmm.” How does he get me so hot and bothered so easily? I’m not even with him, and he’s making me quiver.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm, Claire?”

The question catches me off guard. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Claire…” he warns. “I want to know everything about you.”

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