Ryker
Page 35Just as I’m taking a sip, I see Gray weaving her way through the partygoers, nodding greetings, accepting pecks on the cheek from others. Her eyes rise to mine and she walks directly toward me.
Hmmm. This is interesting.
Gray does nothing more than come up to stand next to me, her own hand holding a glass of wine. She stands casually while we both watch Zack and Kate with huge, beaming grins on their face. We look just like two ordinary people who are members of the same organization having a polite chat.
“That was quite the proposal,” Gray says genially.
I chuckle. “Poor Zack. I didn’t think it would ever go right for him.”
“I’ll admit that my heart was in my throat when he couldn’t find the ring,” she muses.
I angle my head to take a quick peek at her. “So what are your big Christmas plans, Miss Brannon?”
“Well, seeing as how tomorrow is Christmas Day and Dad has forbidden me from working, I suppose I’ll be forced to relax.”
I turn back to watch the crowd, take a small sip of my drink. It feels odd to be standing here, making polite small talk. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her under the mistletoe. I want to bring her back to my cold, empty house and fuck her all night in my big king bed.
But none of that is possible because for me, in reality, Gray Brannon is untouchable. I think she may only exist in my fantasy life.
“I’m sure you’re missing the girls,” Gray says, and she sounds almost desperate to engage me in talk. Two of the hockey wives walk by, giving us smiling nods.
“I’m sure it’s just the way things shook out,” Gray says. “We all get comfortable in our roles and it’s hard to move out of them.”
My head swivels toward her, because while what she says applies to Hensley and me, it suddenly sounds like a dire warning about what may come to be for us. I think given our boundaries, this thing may just “shake out” with Gray and we’ll end up settling.
Not ideal at all.
For either one of us.
So I decide to test her. Give her a push.
“Spend Christmas Day with me,” I tell her.
I don’t ask.
Something flickers deep in Gray’s eyes. Interest. Excitement. Fear? “I always spend the morning with my dad. We do breakfast…exchange gifts…”
“Then come over to my house after,” I press her. “We’ll hang out. Relax.”
I lean in just a tad closer to her and murmur. “We’ll fuck.”
She smiles. “Okay. I’ll be there around noon.”
Chapter 14
Gray
I have no clue why Ryker likes to spend so much time with his mouth between my legs, but I can honestly say it’s one of my favorite pastimes. I’m having a hard time concentrating on how much I love having him in my mouth as we try out the classic sixty-nine position for the first time in our budding new…relationship?
His fingers dig into my skin, his mouth moves hard against me, his tongue is ruthless.
All I can do is groan against his cock when I start to come, semi collapsing on top of his body with weakness. But he doesn’t stop. He never wants to stop. He keeps at me and I’m so sensitive that I think I might crawl out of my skin.
I pull my mouth from him and weakly swat a hand backward, striking at nothing but air. “Stop,” I pant at him. “I can’t take any more.”
He chuckles against me, kisses the inside of my thigh, and then with his powerful arms, he lifts me off his face and swivels my body to the side so I’m kneeling on the mattress. He looks at me with a devious grin, while I keep up a slow stroke with my hand on him.
“Want to keep sucking me off or want me to fuck you?” he asks as he puts his hands casually behind his head to stare at me. He looks glorious, lying on the center of his mattress. Ripped chest, rolling abs, long powerful legs stretched out straight with his erection beautifully straining in my hand. His eyes are heavy and sensuous as he waits for my answer.
“Suck you off,” I whisper, and I catch a glimpse of his eyes narrowing at me in appreciation as I bend my head back over him.
“Merry Christmas,” Ryker whispers as he grazes his lips over my temple.
I think he broke my body just now, and I’m pretty sure I put a good hurting on him.
In the best of ways, of course.
After he came in my mouth with his hands grasping on to my head tightly, he pulled me up the bed and into his arms, where we’ve been lying for the past half hour in comfortable silence.
“Merry Christmas,” I tell him back. “I’m glad I came over.”
“I know you’re glad you came,” he says licentiously. I give him a tiny elbow in the ribs and he laughs over his crude joke.
“Seriously,” I say as I stroke my hand over the smattering of hair in the center of his chest. “I’m glad I’m spending today with you.”
“And tonight,” he says with simple command. As if I’d even think to argue.