Page 64 of Face Me Off

“Mm-hmm, but I’m also proud of you. What pushed you over the edge?”

“When I came back from his office, I was so angry with him. I vented to Amanda for a minute, headed straight to my room, and drew. I poured my feelings into that portrait.”

“I hate that he upset you, but I’m thankful you have an outlet.”

“It’s my best piece to date. And the focal point for the art contest. It’s kind of ironic. Because of his hatred, I now have a theme for the overall collection.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He takes my hand as we return our stare toward the ceiling. “Do you want me to be there when you tell your parents?”

“You know that’s not a possibility. They can’t know about us. Not yet.” After Dad’s warning, there isn’t any way I can bring him around. I wouldn’t put it past him to make a phone call to Alex to stop the donation.

“I know, but I hate you facing them alone. It doesn’t seem right.”

“I appreciate that more than you know. But this is my battle.” I kiss his knuckles. “I’ll be okay.”

He squeezes me and moves off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” I raise to a sitting position.

“You’re not sleeping in the buff?”

I make a shivering gesture. “Don’t want to get cold.”

Ryan’s soft chuckle warms my heart. For someone so domineering, he’s pretty flexible. “It’s in the top middle drawer.”

He slips to the bathroom while I tiptoe to his dresser. Without thought, I open the drawer and smile. There’s justsomething about men’s worn-out T-shirts. They’re cozy, soft, and smell like them. I dig down to find the most worn-out one. I move the top two shirts aside and gasp when I see the faded black shirt. I recognize it immediately. It’s The Weeknd’s After Hours concert shirt. I wanted to attend the concert in high school but didn’t think I could. Ryan surprised me with tickets. It was such a fun time.

I clutch it to my chest before putting it on. But the surprises don’t stop. When I close the drawer, I notice the corner of a familiar piece of parchment. My hand flies to my chest.

Surely, that’s not what I think it is.

But as I unfold the canvas and reveal the sketch of Ryan holding the Stanley Cup, tears spring to my eyes.

My sketch.

He kept it just as he said he would.

He called it his good luck charm and said he would always think of me. The fact that he brought it to college proves he wasn’t lying.

Just when I thought I couldn’t care for him more than I already do, he does this.

Footsteps warn me of Ryan’s approach. I quickly fold the paper and place it back in the drawer. I’m halfway to the bed when the door opens.

“Mmm, you look hot wearing my favorite T-shirt.” His gaze traces along my body and hovers where the hem falls on my upper thighs.

“Yeah?” I automatically turn around and wiggle my ass for a good show.

“Damn, you look too good. That ass … perfect.” He slides behind me and bends me over. Running his hands along the back of my thighs up to my ass, he says, “I can’t get enough of you.”

“It’s a good thing I like you then.” And that isn’t a lie. I’m already dripping wet from anticipation.

He drives inside me, making me catch my breath. I’ve decided nothing beats this fullness.

We continue this pace until I’m coming on his dick once again. We’re spent by the time we crash for the night.

When we reach the bed, he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around me. I melt into the curve of his body.

Guess I was wrong. This feeling right here tops everything else.

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