Page 70 of Something Tangled Something True
He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, rubbing the tip of his nose up the length of mine. “I love you, Lola Lima. We can take things at whatever pace you need.”
I feel my shoulders pull as my upper body slackens, releasing the tension that had gathered there. My nasal passages feel like they’re tingling from the deep, contented pulls of my breath, and it’s this moment I realize everything reallywillbe okay—because there’s no other way.
Time passes slowly, but somehow, over the last hour we’ve been watching this snooze-worthy rom-com, I’ve slid down Ryder’s lap, landing like a puddle between his legs.
“We should head to bed,” I say, stretching my arms over my head as I yawn.
Nugget’s yawn matches mine from the chair he’s lying on beside the fireplace, the TV mounted above it.
Ryder sits up, setting his hands on my hips, his eyes a silent plea. My brows pinch, unsure of what— “Oh.”
His thick length presses against me, and if I rock against him, he’ll— “Lola,” he whines, moaning loudly, desperately.
Heat worms its way through my body, and I sit up, unintentionally straddling his lap. I plant my hands on his shoulders, hovering my lips above his ear, ignoring the ache in my knee.
I know we’d said we’d take it slow, but my body is so familiar with this man, I’m not surehowslow I really want it.
And after what we’d done last night, a little taste won’t hurt, right?
The fire building in my core is responsible for the next wordsI breathe. “Your wife still doesn’t have any panties on… in case you’re hungry.”
A growl rips from his chest, and suddenly, I’m on my back, Ryder between my legs. He grips my ankle, bringing it up to his mouth, planting a kiss on the inside. “I’m fuckingstarving.”
“I thought so,” I say with a smirk.
He continues traveling up my calf, planting kisses every couple of inches, and when he’s traveled so high that he can see between my legs, his pupils visibly dilate, blowing out the baby blue of his irises. He releases a strangled groan that vibrates straight through me.
“Enjoying the view, Ry?” I ask, panting as I run my hands up his chiseled abdomen.
“You know I am, darlin’.” He lowers himself further, pushing my thighs apart to accommodate his wide shoulders, but before he can settle between them, the thick silence in the room is shattered.
His phone rings and rings as he scrambles to grab it, and his brows climb his forehead. “Blocked number,” he says, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?”
Creepy clown music fills the small room, and Nugget jumps from his seat, sprinting to the window by the door, barking at whatever—or whoever—is lurking behind it.
My vision turns blurry as I suck in ragged breaths, trying to remain calm when I feel anything but.
Ryder hurries to end the call, and as he does, my phone goes off with a text.
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A photo of us, moments ago, his face between my legs, stares back at us on the screen.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, clutching a hand to my chest.
“This endsnow,” Ryder declares, standing and grabbing the baseball bat.
“Ry, wait!” He spins toface me, and his pale expression gives me pause. “Whoever it is probablywantsyou to go outside. Please, sit down. We need to call our families to warn them and check the cameras.”
He sucks in a breath, setting the bat down between us, and starts sifting through the footage on his phone.
I work on making the calls, warning everyone on the property.
My Wifey For Lifey
The cops better get her before I do. I’m tired of this shit.
Please stay safe.
