“Hey, Emery.” With great hesitancy, he leans in and cups my cheek. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he mouths.
“I hope you’re right,” I whisper. To distract myself from the panic, I lean up and press my lips to his.
And something miraculous happens. I calm down instantly, without medication.
He hesitates, but only briefly before he begins kissing me back. Our tongues tangle as he leans over me, gently forcing me onto my back. His body covers mine, his arm supports his weight while the other hand travels down my body, across my hips, my breast, then caresses the flesh on my neck.
I allow my own hands to explore, sliding my fingers up and down his chest before I daringly inch them up the front of his shirt. His muscles tense, and he bites down on my lip, eliciting a groan from me.
Suddenly, he’s pulling away, but only to kiss a path down my jawline to the hollow of my neck. He licks a trail across my collarbone, and the metal on his tongue grazes my skin and sends heat coiling through my body. His hand grips my thigh, his fingertips pressing down gently as he hitches my leg over his hip. Then he grinds against me, but it feels like I need more. I’m panting, needy, breathless, and more riled up than I’ve ever been.
“Ryler...” I gasp, tangling my fingers through his hair as his mouth delves downward to the top of my shirt. His other hand slides up my leg and up my shorts. When his fingers brush the edge of my panties, he pauses.
Not knowing what else to do, I reach down and push his hand up, letting him know what I want, something I’ve never had before. My blood burns with need, desire, and lust as he moves his mouth back up to mine and slips a finger deep inside me.
My teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, and my fingers glide up his back, my nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. How on earth can this be better than sex? Well, better than sex with Evan.
Ryler leans back to watch me, like he did last night, while he works his finger in and out. He adds another, tracing circles, driving my body so damn crazy all I can do is scream.
And holy shit do I scream.
For the first time ever.
“Jesus, Emery,” Ryler mouths as he stares down at me in awe. “Was that your... first time doing that?”
“Yeah.” It’s hard to get air in and out of my lungs. My skin is damp, my legs are tired, and I feel so content inside I don’t know what to do with myself. “I’ve had sex, though. It’s just… well, my boyfriend…” I pause, unsure how to describe the relationship between Evan and me. “He was confused about how foreplay works.”
A soft laugh escapes Ryler’s lips. He pushes up then grabs my hands and helps me sit up.
“I’m really curious to find out all your firsts,” he signs with a lopsided grin. “It should be fun.”
My cheeks heat, but I hold his gaze. “Yeah, me, too.”
He studies at me a moment longer. “Okay, I think it’s time for another first.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, my gaze flicking to the hallway, to my bedroom at the end of it, wondering what else we could do if we went back there.
He rises to his feet, rounds the table, and stops to the side of the sofa, next to where I’m sitting. “We’re going talk to the landlord about your window and make your first official renter’s damage report.” He extends his hand for me to take, grinning.
I smile back and lace my fingers through his.
“We probably shouldn’t mention the note, though,” he signs after he helps me to my feet. “We should pretend the brick was just some random thing that happened.”
I reach for the door knob. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone that.”
“Then why did you tell me?” he wonders. “I’m just curious.”
“I’m not sure.” I pull open the door, and the cool morning breeze gusts inside. “You just seem... like someone I can trust. It’s crazy, because when I first met you, I was kind of afraid of you. You looked really intense, but your looks mean nothing... I mean, you’re gorgeous and everything, but what I meant was...” I trail off as his expression falters. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” He stiffly smiles, tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, then signs, “You’re gorgeous, too.”
I’m starting to wonder if he might be keeping something from me. How can I know for sure, though, when I barely know him at all?
The feeling only increases when I open the door, and he slips out without another word. After I lock up, we trot down the stairs and into the sunlight sparkling from the clear blue sky. When we reach the sidewalk, he pulls out his phone and sends a text message. The phone almost instantly buzzes, announcing an incoming message. He reads it then strangles the phone as he slows to a stop in the middle of the grass. His fingers hammer against the buttons as he types back.
The process happens about ten times. With each message that comes through, he grows more enraged as he types back. Worried he’s going to explode, I finally decide to say something.
I gently touch his hand. “Ryler, is everything okay?”
His gaze darts to me as he jumps back, like if he forgot I was there. He quickly settles down, and his arms lower to his sides. The phone is still clutched in his hand as he studies me with his brows furrowed. Then he peeks over his shoulder at the parking lot.
“I have to go,” he signs as he looks back at me. “Something came up at work.”