“Yes.” I arched, reaching for pleasure. Wanting only to feel. To feel him inside me. To make all the worry and fear disappear, even if just for this short time.
He groaned, and levered up on his hands, picking up the pace as his own need urged him on. Together, we moved, up and down, in and out, like a perfect dance. We were so different in so many ways, except in this. Our bodies fit like they’d been made for each other. Like this, we were the same.
“Aw, fuck…” he growled.
He was close. I could feel the tension in his shoulders. His face contorted into that mixture of pleasure and pain as his need grew. He was so handsome. So sexy. So sweet. I wished I could keep him.
“Come with me, Katrina.” He reached between our bodies and rubbed my clit with his fingers, effectively launching me to the heavens.
I arched again, crying out his name as the sweetest pleasure once again flooded my body.
There was some truth about the idea of things being darkest before the dawn. When I woke the next morning, I didn’t feel quite as freaked out by my unplanned pregnancy as I had the night before. Then again, I’d only just woken up. Given a little time, I’m sure my brain would have me freaking out again.
I was alone in bed, but I could smell breakfast cooking. Ryder was up and making me food again. I smiled. He did take good care of me.
I rose from the bed and looked for something to put on. I found a robe and swung it around my back and slipped my hands through the sleeves. The motion blew a small paper off Ryder’s dresser, so I reached down to pick it up.
It was Erica Edmond’s business card. Immediately my belly clenched with jealousy. I turned it over and saw her phone number scrawled on the back. Anger rose up like lava from a volcano. Jesus, our bet wasn’t even done and he was already scouting the next woman. I should have known. How stupid was I?
I skittered around the room picking up all my stuff. My bag was in the other room, so once I found what I’d left in Ryder’s room, I’d go there and pack up. It was time to leave.
The door opened and Ryder poked his head in. “Good, you’re up. I’ve got breakfast. Want me to serve you in bed?” He frowned. “Somethin
g wrong?”
“No,” I said in a clipped tone. “Just making room for Erica Edmonds.” Where were my panties? I lifted the quilt away so I could look under the bed.
“What are you talking about?” His voice was calm, but had that tone like he was thinking, “here we go again.” Well yeah, buddy, here we go again because you’re a horndog douchebag.
“That!” I said pointing to the card I dropped back on his dresser.
He looked at it. “It’s her business card. So?”
“So?” I stopped, jammed my fists on my hips and glared at him. “You couldn’t even wait until this bet was over to start wooing her.”
“I’m not wooing her.”
“Her number is on the back. And I know she wants you. She told me so.”
He frowned. “What? When?”
“At our anniversary dinner.” I said anniversary with a snide tone. “She was biding her time. I guess you were too.”
“I’m not biding my time.” He sighed and moved to me, but I backed away.
“Then why have you been holding on to her card? It’s rumpled enough to suggest it's been there for a while.”
“I keep forgetting to give it to Sinclair.”
I rolled my eyes. “I suppose that could be true. You’re not very organized.”
His eyes flashed with heat, but he turned away. It was then I realized what it was about him that often annoyed me. Yes, he didn’t seem to take life seriously enough. He was too laid back. But he also wasn’t very passionate about anything. I was often a bitch to him, and he just took it instead of getting mad. He smiled and laughed, but I never saw love in him, except toward his parents and Sinclair, but even in that, he seemed to have the same speed. No highs. No lows. I suppose even-keeled could be an asset, but here I was yelling at him for planning to replace me and his voice was calm. Like it didn’t matter if I believed him or not.
He held his hands out to the side. “Guilty as charged. I could have given it to her the other night after I went and told her and Wyatt about Stark’s plan to buy the Salvation Station, but I forgot. You’ll probably read that to mean subconsciously I don’t want to get rid of it.”
What did he say about Salvation Station? I shook my head as that wasn’t what was important. “You still have it.”
He shrugged. “I’d toss it except it wouldn’t matter. You always want to see the worst in people. In me at least. I can’t win.”