Ride the Wreck (Stonewall Investigations Blue Creek 2)

Inside the bathroom, I had Ryan sit on the toilet seat while I worked on erasing all of my work. I let the water run until it came out warm, collecting a few towels and laying them down on the white marble next to the makeup wipes. A bowl full of blue and green potpourri filled the room with a clean linen scent.

“Is this going to hurt?” Ryan asked jokingly.

I got between his legs and started my process. “Only if you didn’t prep right,” I said with a wink. “Don’t worry, though. I’m gentle.”

“I can feel that,” Ryan said as I wiped across his forehead. “It feels like a fairy is kissing my skin.”

“What did you just call me?” I feigned shock, cocking my head and giving him a harsh look before I cracked, laughing along with Ryan. I went back to wiping his face gently before setting down the dirty wipe and grabbing another. Once that was done, I wet a towel with warm water and added some of the rose water I carried with me. I dabbed at the corners of his face, the mood between us shifting as the silence enveloped us. It was a comfortable silence, one I didn’t feel the urge to fill.

This was peaceful and very much needed after the scare-fest we had back at my place. It didn’t hurt that I was standing between Ryan’s open legs, his face in my hands and his warmth radiating through me.

“You’re really good at this,” Ryan said, voice almost dropping to a whisper. His eyes were shut, and he tilted his head back.

“Are you falling asleep?” I asked. “Maybe I’m too good at this.”

“No, complete opposite, actually. I’m wide-awake. Relaxed and awake, a great combo.” He opened his eyes and almost knocked me over with the intensity behind the blue. His face was already clear of any makeup, leaving his natural face to do all the heavy lifting.

Which it did, flawlessly.

“Hold on, there’s a little left.” I grabbed the cotton towel and softly dabbed at the side of his lip. My thumb brushed against him, his lips parting open, staying that way. The intensity in the swirling blue gaze only grew, igniting a burner at the base of my spine.

When did his hands land on my hips? When did he start pulling me into him? When did it get so hot in this bathroom?

When did I get so hard?

Before I could ask myself any more questions, Ryan’s lips met mine again, and all thoughts were instantly obliterated. Erased. Gone. Poof.

All that I could think of was Ryan and the way he tasted on my tongue, and how his fingers digging into my hips felt incredible, and how much better it felt as he moved his hands back, grabbing my ass, his tongue opening my lips and slipping in. I moaned, feeling all of my inhibitions melt away, as did any of the fear or anxiety I’d been feeling earlier in the night. Nothing else mattered except this perfect kiss with this perfect man, his perfect hands working my perfect ass.

One thought, stronger than the rest, did manage to break through the white noise of pleasure and bliss:

Damn. Tonight was definitely a date.

15

Ryan Diaz

Every inch of my body lit on fire with Elijah’s kiss. Like I’d been dunked in gasoline and been thrown a match. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, needing to touch and grab and hold. I opened my legs wider, giving him more room to fall against me, the toilet cover shifting underneath me. I planted my feet on the ground and practically had him sitting on my lap. At this angle, I could feel him against my chest, feel the urgent need hard and twitching, same as I was. His kiss intoxicated me, made my blood simmer and my core tighten.

I slipped my hands under his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He grabbed my nape, fingers massaging my neck as his tongue probed my mouth. It was all I wanted, from the moment we met, from the moment I spotted him on that stage, capturing every ounce of my attention—this was it.

Well… maybe not all I wanted. I brought a hand around, slipping it from out of his shirt and moving downward, running my hand over Elijah’s bulge. Flames threatened to consume me, made even worse when Elijah pushed his hips forward, offering more of himself to me, giving me more than a handful.

“Fuck, Elijah, I need you to take these off.” I tugged on his shorts, gaze glued to the outline of his hard length. His lips gleamed from our kiss, twisting up at the corners, green eyes matching the gleam.

“Fine, but you have to take those off.” He gestured at my gym shorts and the massive tent being pitched. “Before you break through them.”