He wrapped those long guitar-playing fingers around my arms and pulled me close to him. The heat of his body seared my skin.
“This isn’t fake.” His thick dick pressed against my belly, making me drunk with arousal, damn him.
I swallowed hard, knowing I was losing the battle. I was pissed that my hormones would betray me. Ryder was everything I didn’t want in a man. Unambitious. Lackadaisical about life. He didn’t take anything seriously, and instead lived like an eight-year-old boy in a twenty-eight-year-old body.
He gave me another slow, knowing smile. “I think it's about time I taste my wife again.”
My brain said no, but my body screamed, yes, yes, yes.
“You fight me on everything, Katrina. How about for once, you just let go and live?”
Dammit, I was powerless when he called me Katrina instead of Trina, like everyone else did.
He dipped his head toward me and my traitorous body leaned toward him too. His lips pressed against mine, at first soft and tentative. Perhaps he was afraid I’d bite him. But when I didn’t, he turned up the intensity of the kiss. His lips were firm and thorough as he settled into the kiss, like he planned to be there all day.
I moaned, partly in pleasure and partly in annoyance that I was helpless to do anything but accept his kiss. No, not just accept it, but fully participate in it. Ryder might be flippant about life, but he was serious when it came to kissing.
His tongue slipped through the seam of my mouth, and tiny little rockets went off in my head as it swept through in long, delicious strokes.
He groaned, and in an instant, he swung me up into his arms. I had a moment of self-consciousness about my round curves, but it was gone the minute he laid me on the bed.
“You taste so fucking good, Katrina.” He settled over me, kissing me again until I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t care. I could die like this and be perfectly content.
He trailed his kisses lower, pulling my dress up, sucking on my nipple through the sheer lace of my bra.
“Oh, God.” I arched, helpless to do anything but feel.
He continued his journey, down over my belly, pushing my panties down my thighs. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, a warning bell was going on off, telling me I should stop. This shouldn’t be happening. Ryder was my best friend’s brother. He humiliated me in high school. He was a player. He had no ambition and nothing to offer me except annoyance and irritation. My hormones told my brain to shut up and enjoy the ride.
He settled his shoulders between my thighs and slipped his hands underneath my backside, lifting my hips to his mouth.
“I’ve wanted you like this forever,” he said roughly. He buried his face in my pussy. I cried out as pleasure whipped up in a frenzy. He groaned, the vibration of it sending shock waves through my entire body. Every neuron inside me was firing. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I never wanted it to stop.
1
Ryder—One Week Earlier
During weeknights, the bar was busy, but not crowded like it was on weekends. Mostly, it was regulars stopping in after work for a little drink to unwind before heading home. Having grown up in Salvation, I was acquainted with nearly everyone who walked through the door. I knew their family history, life story, current woes, and their go-to drink.
The trio walking in now, I knew better than most. My sister, Sinclair, my best buddy, now brother-in-law, Wyatt, and my sister’s friend Trina I’d known for as long as I could remember. I took a moment to watch them, or more accurately, Trina, as they approached.
Trina was easily the most stunning woman in town. She was a man’s wet dream come true. At least for me. She had thick wavy red hair, which my fingers threaded through whenever I had a dirty fantasy of her. Her smart, assessing gray eyes seemed to take in everything. She had a sharp tongue that could slash a man to pieces, and that I longed to silence with my fevered kiss. Her body was soft and round in all the right places. I’d been getting off to thoughts of her since I’d first started self-pleasuring myself in high school. Recently, my dirty thoughts veered towards fucking those magnificent tits of hers.
“It’s the three musketeers,” I said as they reached the bar. “Will it be whiskey or beer tonight?”
“Beer for me,” Wyatt said.
“Me too,” Sinclair nodded.
“Me three.” Trina took a seat next to Sinclair. As I poured the beer, I glanced over at Trina. While my lust for Trina started in high school, she, on the other hand, thought I was lower than pond scum. She treated me like a gnat, she wished she could squash and make go away.
It hadn’t always been like that. There was a time when we were younger that she was nice to me. For a short time, I thought maybe she liked me too. And then, something happened in our senior year of high school that turned her against me. For ten years, I’d been trying to figure out what happened or at least change her opinion of me. It was my life’s work to solve the puzzle of Katrina Lados.
“Tough day at the office?” I asked, putting their beers in front of them.
“The usual,” Sinclair said. “But we just had a successful meeting about reintegrating 4-H into the schools.”
“As if there was any question about that.” I said. “You took down Stark. Re-starting a club should be nothing to you.”