He comes over to me and leans against the countertop, his arms either side of me.
“I can’t stand that he…”
“Look, I’ve slept with other guys, okay?”
“Please don’t tell me that. I’d rather pretend it’s not true.”
I turn to look at him. “Are you jealous, Ryan O’Connor?”
“Fuck yes.”
I smile, satisfied.
“Come on, don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” I lie, unable to contain the joy plastered across my face.
“You like it, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You like the fact I can’t stand the idea of this body with anyone else’s.”
“This body is mine. I guess I could let you borrow it sometimes.”
“Don’t joke around, Christine. Don’t provoke me.”
“Why? What would happen?” I challenge, one eyebrow raised.
Ryan grabs my hips and throws me over his shoulder.
“What the hell…? Put me down!” I demand, but he keeps hold of my legs firmly.
“I warned you,” he says, heading for the stairs.
“You’re an idiot, O’Connor!”
His hand smacks against my bottom.
“Hey!”
“Don’t keep provoking me, or it’ll be even worse for you.”
“Ooh, I’m shaking…”
We get into my bedroom and he puts me down.
“You’re just a…” He shuts me up with his mouth, pressing me against the wall.
His kisses are rough. They clear my mind, taking away all my strength, leaving me breathless. My legs give way, my whole body giving itself up to him.
Ryan O’Connor is demanding. He wants everything, and he doesn’t want to wait for it; and I don’t object. I don’t even try.
“What do we have here?” he whispers, pushing his erection against me.
“Fuck you and your orgasms.”
He smiles, pleased with himself, as his hands slide under the waistband of my trousers, sending a shiver down to my thighs. He tugs them down and I stand there, defenceless, in front of him. He pulls his shirt over his head and pushes himself against me.
