Madison straightens and slips her hand from my groin. I glare straight ahead, my lips pinched together as I try not to linger on the irritation from the loss of her touch.
The light turns green, and we peel out. Madison’s breasts smash against my back as she grips me tighter when the bike gains speed. I clench my jaw as she backs away to give me room.
It’s fucked up, but I hit the brake again, and she smashes against me. I shudder at the feeling of her piercings through the layers of clothes between us. Madison’s hand drops to my stomach and clings to my bare skin above my pelvis. With her other, she clutches my chest, her fingers curled into my shirt. She doesn’t back off like the other times, though. The little vixen knows what she’s doing.
The rest of the ride is painful with her holding me like this, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
I slow the bike and glance at the driveway. My eyes narrow when I spot something that doesn’t belong, and I shift gears, peeling out of the neighborhood. I follow the familiar route to the abandoned neighborhood, then park outside my house and hit the kill switch to cut the engine.
“What are we doing here?” Madison yells through the helmet.
I untangle myself from her and give her a hand as she slips off the seat. “Seems your lovely fiancé was waiting for you.”
“AFTER DARK” MR. KITTY
My jaw drops as I stand frozen in place. Over my pounding heart, I barely hear Ryder’s words replay in my head. My stomach twists in knots.
Justin was waiting for me at home.
I’m glad Ryder took me to the hiking trail to hang out, but I didn’t think he was right about Justin searching for me at the house. This means Dad knows about what happened—or at least what Justin told him. Knowing him, he probably left out the assault in the bathroom, then painted me as the bad guy.
Ryder moves in front of me until our chests brush. I bite my bottom lip as he gently undoes the straps beneath my chin, then rests his hand on my throat. His grip is firm as he moves my head in different angles as he works. My tense shoulders slacken, and I lean into his touch, hating how safe he makes me feel. The way Ryder invades my personal space and forces me to look at him is enough to chase away the rising panic.
In the short time since he’s started talking to me, I’ve come to realize he grounds me. No one—not even Minnie or my friends—has ever accomplished this. I can chalk it up to my infatuation with him, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. A hidden piece of myself recognizes him. Maybe it has something to do with the struggles he refuses to voice.
The straps click, then loosen, as Ryder unsnaps them. He eases the helmet off my head and tucks it against his side. I avert my gaze and busy myself by fixing my hair. Ryder keeps his expression blank, but his eyes hold no secrets. He’s searching for signs of distress, seeking answers about why I’ve been freaking out since running into him earlier.
But I can’t bring myself to tell my stepbrother what Justin did and how it’s messing with my head. I can’t explain that my father has stripped me of my right to choose and is forcing this marriage.
Not finding the answer he’s looking for, Ryder steps back. “We’ll stay here for the night.”
Chewing the loose skin on my bottom lip, I face the mansion. From the outside, it appears abandoned. Spiderwebs stretch across the dark windows, and unkempt bushes struggle to survive the cold. Moss coats the horse fountain in the circle drive, its giant basin filled with stagnant water and algae. Dead leaves litter the ground, and the trees look one big gust of wind away from toppling over.
“Who’s house is this, anyway?” I say. “It looks haunted.”
Ryder brushes past me and says over his shoulder, “Mine, and it probably is. Follow me, and I’ll help you out of the hoodie.”
My spine straightens.
Shit. I just insulted his home. I hope he doesn't take offense and punish me by ignoring me again. It doesn’t matter that he’s shown me more kindness and care in the past few hours. He could take everything back and treat me like shit again.
My fingers burrow into the bottom of the hoodie that smells like Ryder. I don’t know how I’ll survive another round of him undressing me. I don’t even want to give the hoodie back to him. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend, but this is the first time a man has given me something of his to wear.
Ryder unlocks the front door and swings it open. I rush after him, too afraid he’ll change his mind and lock me outside.
I breathe a sigh of relief as warm air hugs me as I pass through the entryway and shut the door behind me. Ryder flips on a light and strides down the massive hallway leading deeper into the house. I follow close behind him with my head on a swivel.
Dust blankets the portraits hanging from the chipped walls. A lot of them remind me of Halloween decorations. They feature creepy farmers posing with their families. All that’s missing are the pitchforks. None of this screamsRyder, however.My brother would go for a more gothic color scheme, not beige and forest green with a pop of yellow.
There are a few traces of his personality dotted throughout the space. A large TV hangs on the wall opposite the furniture, and large speakers tower in the corners of the den. Motorcycle helmets lie scattered on the floor, and two more sit on the coffee table.
Ryder leads me into the living room and picks up a remote from the dark coffee table. Blue LED lights wrapped aroundthe ceiling’s upper trim flip on, bathing us in a soft glow. Ryder switches on a lamp on the end table beside a dark leather sectional couch. Its back faces floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a back patio and forest.
“Wow,” I breathe. “How did you get this place? That’s a lot—oomph.” I bump into a solid wall of muscle.
Ryder catches my waist and squeezes a little harder and longer than necessary. Like all the other times he’s touched me, it’s as though he can’t help himself.
I mentally shake away the thoughts.No, there’s no way Ryder would be interested in me likethat. Doesn’t matter we had a moment or two. He can’t stand me. Which means he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
