Page 23 of Along for the Ride

I spot the housekeeper outside the glass doors, and our eyes meet. Instead of feeling ashamed, I feel a sense of pride. This insanely massive and attractive man is currently working to get me off, and I’m almost glad someone was here to witness it. It’s real. This moment is real.

I come.

Hard.

The orgasm rips through me, and I have to bury my mouth against his sweat-coated skin to keep from drawing attention to us as I cry out. My hands tighten their hold as every muscle in my body sings with relief, and he doesn’t stop until he’s sure he’s drawn out every ounce of pleasure.

When the wave recedes, he lifts me from the washer and sets me on shaking legs. I’ve left a large wet spot on the machine, but I don’t care. I’m not ashamed of the proof of what I’ve just experienced. His erection strains against his fly, and I expect him to take me.

At this point, I would let him.

Instead, he takes the robe tie and fastens it around my waist, concealing my body once more. With a sinful smirk, he looks down at me, and I almost rip off my robe and climb him like a tree.

But I take a deep breath and try to remember my morals. The man did abduct me, after all. I let him make me come, but I don’t have to return the favor.

“Let’s get back to the room so you can get dressed, wanderer,” he says.

As I follow him to the elevator, I make a decision I’m sure I’ll regret.

Instead of trying to escape, I’ll stick with them a while longer.

Karson wants to kill me, but Gentry won’t let that happen. I know that for certain after what just happened between us. If I remain under his protective wing, I’m untouchable.

ChapterEleven

Gentry

Getting into bed with a hard-on that just wouldn’t go down was tough, and trying to sleep with her curled up on her side beside me seems like a monumental task. She relaxed the moment her head hit the pillow, and she didn’t even place a barrier between us. I almost wish she had.

Her soft, repetitive snores should make my skin crawl, but I like hearing them because it means she’s sleeping well. Her smile should piss me off, but I like seeing it because it means she’s content. Not even my wife affected me this way. This has to stop.

While I didn’t break my vow of abstinence by making her come, it was too fucking close for comfort. I’m really trying to behave myself because I don’t want this to become a thing. I’m on a mission. My focus has to remain on making enough money to get out from under George, and nothing should distract me from that. And that’s exactly what Leana is. A walking, breathing, long-legged distraction who makes me do things—makes me hunger for things—-that are better left alone.

Maybe I just need to rub one out and get it out of my system.

I turn onto my side and pull the covers away from her body so I can see every curve. The bathroom light reflects off her soft blonde hair. Her lips part as she breathes through her mouth. Her back isn’t warmer than any other part of her body, but it’s so close that it burns me.

I get ballsy and rub my hand up the back of her thigh with a ghost of my usual touch. She stirs and nestles into me, the warmth of her pussy pressing against my leg. My feathery touch rises upward and grips her ass. A moan leaves her parted lips, and she opens her eyes, her lids heavy with sleep.

“Are you watching me?” she mutters. “Creepy.”

I move my hand over her hip and pull her against me, expecting her to jerk away when she feels my erection against her ass. She doesn’t. Instead, she creates a slight arch in her back and pushes against it.

I’m fucked.

I need her to tell me no because then I can stop. If she gives in, if she welcomes me inside her, I won’t have the strength to turn her down. I have to put distance between us, and I know which topic will do exactly that.

“Tell me about this shit-bag fiancé of yours,” I say.

Her body stiffens, and I almost sigh with relief. Now she’ll shut me out again. Now she’ll move away from me and put a pillow between us.

She relaxes. “Odd thing to talk about when you’ve got your hard dick pressed into my ass, but okay. Though there’s not much to tell. I ran away from home when I was eighteen, and he found me at a bus station. Once he got me hooked on opiates, I was trapped.”

Well, that backfired. I didn’t expect her to open up like this.

“I’d wanted to leave for a long time,” she continues, “but taking that first step was hard. The bruises you saw were the last straw. He’d beaten me plenty of times, but that was the first time I thought he’d kill me.”

Knowing a man put hands on her was enough to piss me off, but I see red when I think about some asshole repeatedly abusing her. Instead of pushing her away as I intended, I wrap my arm around her and bring her closer.

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