Page 22 of Along for the Ride

I shake my head.

“Then he doesn’t fucking deserve you.” He grips my hand and pulls my ring from my finger. Instead of pocketing it or throwing it across the room, he slides it past his lips and swallows.

My eyes widen. “Did you really just do that? You couldn’t toss it away like a normal person?”

“I’m the farthest thing from normal, wanderer.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Actually, Karson is probably the farthest, but I’m just behind him.”

“Karson didn’t eat my ring,” I mumble.

With a smirk, he slides the robe tie into my hand and starts toward the door. “Let’s go wash our clothes.”

“Like this?” I motion to my nearly naked body. “Can’t I get dressed first?”

His eyes rove down my body and light my cheeks on fire. “Yes, like that, and no, you can’t get dressed.”

I scoff. “I’m not running around this hotel in a robe.”

His big hand wraps around my waist and pulls my back against his body. A hard, thick mass presses against me, and I don’t need to look down to know what it is. I clench my thighs together. With a low chuckle, he puts a hand against my back and pushes me toward the door.

We exit the room and the flush in my cheeks creeps to my chest as we walk by a housekeeper. Her eyes widen and she pretends she doesn’t notice the shirtless man and the half-naked woman meandering the halls in the middle of the night. She doesn’t say anything, but I’m not sure I’d say jack shit to a man like Gentry, either.

We take the elevator to the first floor and find the laundry room near the fitness room. Gentry pulls me inside, and an automatic light flicks on. A chill runs through me, and my nipples poke against the thin fabric. I fold my arms over my chest to hide the diamond points before he notices. Thankfully, he’s busy putting the clothes into the washer.

“These shouldn’t take long,” he says as he starts the machine.

Great, what are we supposed to do until they’re done? Probably go back to the room. When I grip the handle to head back, he sneaks up behind me and puts his hand over mine.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to the room?”

“There’s no point in going upstairs to come back in thirty minutes. I know you want to get out of that uncomfortable robe, but you could always take it off here.” He teases me by raising the robe’s hem up my thighs. The rough way his massive hands brush against my skin makes my stomach clench with need.

I slam my hands over his. “No, I just want my own clothes.”

His eyes fall to the washer, and the smirk that crosses his face goes right to the juncture between my legs. He places his hands at my waist and lifts me as if I’m made of air. I try to stop him, but each thrash is pointless. It’s like hitting a cement wall. He sets me on the washer, and the cold metal nips at the backs of my thighs because the robe has ridden up in the back.

“Fuck...off,” I say.

Instead of listening to my demand, he steps closer and spreads my legs with his body. His hands grip the robe and pull it away from my ass, and my bare lower half presses against the metal. The cool temperature begins to warm from the contact with my heat. He reaches behind me, adjusts something on the machine, and pulls me forward when he leans back. My swelling clit meets the metal as the vibrating machine trembles beneath me.

“How does that feel, wanderer?” he asks as I dig my nails into his bare shoulders.

The vibrations beneath me feel amazing, but the man pressed against me takes it to another level. I want to feel his skin against mine instead of this shitty robe.

As if reading my mind, he slips his hand between us and pulls the tie away. He parts the robe before pulling me against him again.

“Fuck,” I moan.

His hand snakes between us, and his fingers find my nipple. With an expert touch, he pinches, rubs, and twists the hardened point. His other hand moves to my ass, and he rocks me on the corner of the washer. Each movement teases my clit, adding and removing pressure and vibrations until my thighs quiver. His fingers squeeze my ass in time with his hand working my nipple, and the multitude of differing sensations spins my mind in a whirlwind of pleasure. I’m unable to think about how wrong this is when everything he does to me feels so good.

“Come, little wanderer,” he growls as my nails bury themselves in his muscles. He lowers his mouth to my neck, his teeth teasing my skin.

My hips rock on their own, my pussy gliding with ease through the wetness he’s brought out of me. His rock-hard dick brushes against the side of my calf. I imagine sliding that inside me, and it’s almost enough to push me over the edge.

But I can’t. It’s not enough. I’m desperate for release at this point, desperate enough to lower my walls and throw all caution to the wind, but the vibrations just aren’t strong enough. “I need more,” I pant. “Help me come.”

His fingers move toward my clit, and I lean back a little, giving him just enough room to touch me. The machine’s vibrations travel through his fingertips, and he creates the pressure and movement I need. I lean back more, bracing myself by putting my arms behind me. He leans forward and captures my nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking and swirling his tongue.

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