“It’s your turn,” I tell him, and it takes some work to keep an easy smile on my face when all I want is to fall to my knees for this man.Being fake married is already harder than I thought.
He gets this playful glint in his eyes that always reminds me that with Ryder Lockhart, I’m never truly in charge of my own heart. He grabs the collar of his shirt, tugs it off, and tosses it to the side, leaving me gawking at his impossibly wide shoulders, corded muscles, and firm pecs. I could lick every square inch of this man and never get tired.
“It’s okay, darlin’. You’re allowed to ogle your husband. And maybe later, if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you put that drool to good use.”
His words take a moment to catch up, and when they do, I’m left to do what every adult in my situation would. I unclasp my bra, toss it at his face, and run toward the crystal-clear water.
I hear him coming before I see him, suddenly blinded by the splash of water from his cannonball.
I swipe at my eyes with the heels of my palms. “Ryder Lockhart, did you just spray your wife with water?” I ask in mock annoyance.
“Sure did, sugar. Now, show me what you’re gonna do about it,” he says, leaning back and kicking off the edge, water lapping over the smooth, wet stones.
I swim after him, and the cool water chills my overheated skin. When I’m a foot from him, he winds his arms around my back, pulling my front to his chest. Ryder doesn’t dare look down at my breasts, locking his eyes on mine like a lifeline.
I wrap my legs around his waist and wind my arms around his neck, bringing us impossibly close.
His lids fall shut as he presses the tips of our noses together. His fingers spread wide over the expanse of my back as he clutches me to him. My heart starts to stutter against my rib cage, and my breaths tangle in my chest with each passingbeat.
“Darlin’,” he breathes out.
“Mhmm?” I ask, molten lava pooling in my core. God, I haven’t been touched in so long.
“Can I touch you?” he begs, and the words leave me reeling, digging through the trenches of my mind to uncover their hidden meaning. With Ry, nothing is ever hidden, not his meaning or his intentions. He wants mebecause I’mme, not just to have a piece of arm candy or to joke about sharing me with his friends. Not to use and abuse, mind, body, and soul. No, this is Ryder Lockhart, the man I've known all my life. He was my first kiss, my first crush, my firsteverything, and I've been aching for him.
So when I've gotten enough air in my lungs, I whisper, “Please, Ry,” shock flickering through me momentarily.
All these goddamn boundaries, and nowI'm begging?
He sucks a breath through his nose, his hungry eyes searching mine as his hands wander over me, leaving sparks of heat in their wake.
The sun is setting, leaving the sky looking like cotton candy clouds on a vibrant-red-and-purple watercolor background. The sun's rays glint off his wet strands, and I brush them out of his face, suddenly aware my nipples are stiff peaks, Ryder's thick length growing between my legs.
Fuck, I want this. I wanthim. Preferably, inside of me, but I'll accept his tongue or fingers too. Anything to dull the ache between my thighs.
He holds me tight, surprise stealing my breath as he dunks us under the water. My eyes snap open, adjusting to the almost effervescent, fresh water surrounding us. My hair floats around my head, tangling in his hands. He pushes it away, sliding those rough palms down my shoulders.
We're encapsulated in a moment of silent, sheer bliss. He pulls me up, and I gasp, filling my lungs with the air I've been deprived of as he sets my ass on the edge of a smooth rock.
He ducks his head, brushing his lips against the shell of myear. “Can I taste you, Lola?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
The muscles in my abdomen coil tightly, heat practically dripping from my pussy.
Snap.
The sharp sound of a branch breaking startles us back to reality. My head swings around, searching for the intruder, but with the setting sun and our heavily wooded surroundings, I can't make anything out.
“It was probably a deer. They sometimes jump the fence line,” he says, but something about his darting gaze and rigid spine makes me think he's not so sure of that. “Come on, darlin’. Let's get you somewhere dry,” he whispers, climbing out of the water and pulling me to my feet.
He keeps his eyes turned down, careful not to look at all my bare skin. My pebbled nipples haven't gotten the memo that our little moment was shattered.This was a mistake.A moment of weakness, a sign I need to make up with my vibrators. I'm horny and touch-deprived, and myfakehusband shouldn't be the one to give me what I want right now.
Even if he wants it too, not until we’ve had a chance to talk about our feelings and the aftermath if we were to go any further. We’re quickly tearing our predetermined rules to shreds, and the thought is exhilarating.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
HORNY DREAMS
SATURDAY, JUNE 7
