Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)

Chapter 7

DANNY

Holy shit.

I fucked up.

So… so… so badly.

The drive back to the hotel is painful. I have a headache from hell, and the awkward silence is suffocating. The anger coming off Ryker makes it hard to breathe.

Pressing my lips together, I stare at the nature wooshing past the car.

Oh, Danny. What did you do?

I lied. I remember everything. It was mind-blowingly amazing.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

I might’ve been drunk, but I remember what it felt like to have Ryker inside me. He was intoxicated, and in the heat of the moment, he probably didn’t mean it. But hearing him say ‘I love you’ had my heart bursting with happiness.

Now it’s just a shriveled mess.

Closing my eyes, I let the memories from last night flash through my mind. How hot he looked. His muscled body. Having his hands and mouth on me.

Dear God.

I shift in my seat as desire tightens my abdomen.

Ryker puts on the radio and turns up the volume.

Minutes later, Kiss Me begins to play, and my eyes widen.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

He doesn’t turn off the radio but instead puts it even louder.

Feeling like shit warmed up, I rest my elbow on the door, and covering my mouth with my hand, I keep my eyes locked on the blur of green flashing by the car.

The song's words take on a whole new meaning, and I close my eyes against the truth.

What I feel for him won’t just go away.

I love Ryker.

After last night… I shake my head. We can never be more than friends. I’m almost seven years older than him.

When the song ends, I let out a sigh of relief.

We don’t say a word, and by the time we get back to the hotel, it feels like my head’s going to split open. Hangover’s suck.

Walking into the suite, my head spins, and I only make it to the living room when my legs suddenly give way beneath me, and I drop to the floor with a dull thud.

“Danny!”

Everything goes black.

Seconds later, the pain in my head floods back like a tsunami, and I let out a groan.

“Danny.” Ryker’s voice is filled with worry, and it’s only then I feel his arms around me.

I pry my eyes open and squint against the bright light. “I’m… okay,” I manage to slur.

I begin to sit up, and Ryker helps me. Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand to my forehead.

“Headache? Again?” Ryker asks.

“Hangover… from hell,” I mutter.

I climb to my feet, and Ryker instantly places an arm around my waist.

“I’m going… to sleep… it off,” I mumble. I frown when my sentence comes out weird, as if I’m having difficulty finding the right words to say.

I’m never drinking again.

“I think you should see a doctor,” Ryker says.

“For a… hangover?” I chuckle. “I’m fine.” I begin to walk to my room, my legs feeling shaky. Reaching the door, I glance at Ryker. “I’m really sorry… about last night… and this morning.”

He stares at me for a moment. “We can talk once we both feel less dead.”

The corner of my mouth twitches, and then I close the door behind me.

Stripping out of the clothes, I take a bath before putting on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Crawling into bed, I let out a groan, and seconds later, I’m fast asleep.

RYKER

It’s already late afternoon, and when there’s still no sign of Danny, I walk to her room. I knock on the door and wait a moment before pushing it open.

She’s still fast asleep, and I consider leaving her, but after she passed out this morning, I’ve been worried.

I move closer to the bed and sit down on the side. Danny looks fucking hot in the tight shorts and t-shirt, her ass making my hands itch with the need to touch her.

Instead of groping her, I place my hand on her hip and shake her lightly. “Danny.”

She begins to wake up and then stretches, the shirt pulling tight over her breasts and showing me the outline of her nipples.

Christ. She looks like a wet dream.

“I didn’t want to wake you, but it’s already four o’clock. You should eat something,” I explain. When her eyes focus on my face, I ask, “How do you feel?”

She sits up and rubs a hand over her face. “Much better. Sorry I slept so long.”

“It’s okay.”

She climbs off the bed and walks to the bathroom. Figuring the rest she had did the trick, and that she feels better, I walk back to the living room and sit down on the couch.

I’m working through the contract’s clauses when Danny comes out, wearing a pair of black slacks and a white sweater.

“What do you want to eat?” I ask as she sits down next to me.

“Something solid. Steak or chicken?” She reaches for the financials.