The alcohol helps me relax a little, Ryder, too. All pretense and worries fly right out the window. The easy, flirty mode we so easily fell into the night we met returns.
“Are you having fun?”
“I’m having an amazing time. Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“Trust me, you’re doing me a huge favor. I’m not a fan of these things, but with you here, it’s been fun.”
The bartender sets a couple more drinks in front of us.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I tease.
“What if I am? His eyes twinkle with amusement.
“I’d say you don’t have to.”
His tongue darts out and wets his lips. Heat pools between my thighs as I watch him, take him in. I ache to touch him, feel him—have him inside me. It’s a need I can’t seem to escape and will never be sated. As much as I’m enjoying our date, it’s the end of the night I’m looking forward to. Our night. Our moment. A chance to finally get him out of my system.
Overheated and in need of some space, I excuse myself and head to the restroom.
Just as I’m about to step through the door, I feel someone’s hand on my arm, and I panic. I scream and feel even more embarrassed when I hear Ryder’s voice trying to calm me.
“It’s just me,” he says loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough to draw too much attention to us. No more than I already caused, at least. Ryder pulls me into his arms, the warmth of his body calming me. “You okay?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
When he pulls back, he looks deep into my eyes and sees the fear, the pain. Maybe he doesn’t know where it comes from, but the way his green eyes darken, I know he sees it. The longer we gaze at each other, the shallower my breaths become.
“I wasn’t sure if that was an invitation to join you.” Ryder’s hands move to my face, tilting it so he can get a better look at me. “So, I took a chance.”
One second, we’re inches apart, the next, his lips are on mine.
It’s as though we’ve been thrown into a boxing match, and the gloves are finally coming off. My hands grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him hard against me until we hit the wall behind me.
Deeper. Harder.
Ryder nips at my bottom lip, and when I gasp, he slides his tongue in to dance with mine. Warm heat and electric energy fill my veins.
“Fuck,” he curses, breaking the kiss. His eyes dart around the hallway before his hand pushes the door to the restroom open.
Ryder Sharpe is all man—sexy, commanding, protective—and for this moment, he is all mine.
“Ryder,” I gasp as the lock on the bathroom door clicks.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep denying this… us. I want you, Ember.” Between kisses, his panted words continue. “I want to taste you. I want to touch you. I want to fuck you. God, do I want to fuck you.”
“I want that, too.”
“I can’t wait anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
Ryder’s arms scoop under my thighs, lift me until I’m wrapped around him, and he presses me against the door. My dress is a heap of a mess all around me as his hands grasp and grip through the satin material, trying to find… me, any part he can touch or grab.
“You’re sure about this?” He looks me in the eye.
Fuck no, I’m not sure, but after everything I’ve had to give up? I’ll be damned if I give up this, too.
“Yes, I’m sure.”